#bittersweet in knowing where i was and where i've gone

[payasitas]

took 30pts of psychic damage today in visiting my old online stomping grounds

[starstaiined]

thinking about the unforgiving nature of the passage of time

[freepassbound]

🐶 and 🍪 please

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

Historically, a dog person - though that's a bit by default as I and another family member are allergic, so that's all we ever had.

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

Interesting question. 🤔 Probably something I'd never eat. 😂 One of those odd cookies with ingredients that don't seem that appealing, and doesn't look that great either, but it actually tastes really good.

[riririnnnn]

Random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:

-> Barou looking after Nagi

This was cute, you know. I mean, Barou was the one who first scolded Nagi for swimming in that bathtub, but he is also the one taking care of him—you getting me? It's a small thing, I know, but it's really cute!

-> Rin accepting Hiori's help

With the way Rin was shown till that point, I was actually scared for Hiori because I thought Rin was going to shook off Hiori by saying, "Fuck off!" Like, it just seems very plausible for his character, but then he surprised me!

Just look at him allowing Hiori to help him up by his arms! I understand that many will think that I've gone crazy, but this is one of those things where if you know, you know.

–> Barou throwing Nagi

I snorted at this panel. Like, before this panel, we can see that Isagi literally has his hand around Barou's nape, but no, Barou has to throw Nagi only, it got to be Nagi—if that doesn't sum up their relation, I don't know what will.

–> IGA-DA-GOAT-GURI and Goatmaru

When Isagi's name was suddenly called and he got startled which cracked them up. I just absolutely loved the above panel—so adorbs‼️

-> Sae being Sae

I really haven't seen anyone talk about what he said above—even I seemed to have overlooked his words. It seems so bittersweet that when Sae gave validation to Isagi, he mentioned Rin too like, "He saw through your instincts too." Almost as if it were some kind of necessary requirement for someone to shine in his eyes.

Like, in simple words, "You looked through my little brother's instinct too? Now that's some good shit!"

It's kinda a subtle way of Sae giving Rin validation too like, "He is a solid player! How I know? Oh because he saw through your gameplay."

Sweet.

-> Ubers

Lorenzo especially. Like, just look at him! I don't need to say anything more!

-> Silly Boy

I wanna squeeze his face!!!! AAAAAA!!

And he is supposed to be the ace of the national team???? Like, look at that face, I will never be intimidated by such a cutie patootie. He deserves so many smooches!

-> Little Brother

Aww. Just, awwwwwwww.

Head pats is my own love language too, so seeing this made me melt, and to be honest, Niko is Blue Lock's little brother! It just makes sense to think like that.

.

.

.

Part: 2, 3, 4.

[noxtivagus]

mhmmm starlit waltz.... sometimes i find my mind just wandering back to that. lil thing i wrote years back. from time to time. i really want to rewrite it soon before 2022 ends ><

[thedevilssinner]

I wanna share something because I don't want to suffer alone with my thoughts 😅

It's one of the scenarios where Tav knew Astarion before he was turned, but I've never read anything where it played out like this.

I apologize if something is wrong, English is not my native language.

Imagine that Tav is an elf and Astarion's lover before he was turned.

They're devastated when they finds out that Astarion has been killed. Mourning his death for a very long time and even moving away from Baldur's gate because everything reminds them too much of Astarion.

They know that all their happiness and love are gone. No one can fill the void that Astarion's death has brought them.

And now, two hundred years later, they stand on the beach, the sun beating down on their head, the burning Nautiloid at their back and before them... Astarion?

Only it's all wrong, his eyes are red and he's pale... paler than he's ever been.

Anger rises up in Tav. How dare some shapeshifter even take on Astarion's form after their beloved has been dead for 200 years?

And do a bad job at it!

Before the pale creature could even call for help again, Tav lunged at him with an angry cry, surprising the imitation and truckling it to the ground, dagger pressed to it's throat while they straddled his body. "How dare you?! How dare you to take his form?! Show me who you really are... now!" They command, surprising even themselves with their actions. But they couldn't stop... not when someone is using Astarion's face for gods knows what.

"Darling, there seems to have been a little misunderstanding. I don't know what you're talking about, and I'd appreciate it if you'd remove the dagger from my neck." The shapeshifter replies, his voice smooth and flirtatious and so unmistakably Astarion's that it hurts, and Tav presses the dagger a little harder against his neck.

"Shut up, shapeshifter!" Tav shouts at him, gaze anchored on that so familiar yet different face. "Where did you even get his face?! His voice?!" They ask angrily, the hand holding the dagger starting to shake. "You have no rights to pretend you're Astarion when he's... when he's gone. And to do it badly!" They continue, still angry but deep seated sadness linger behind.

The shapeshifter's eyes widen, opening his mouth as if he wants to say something, Tav noticing the fangs there and even worse idea that him being a shapeshifter, starts to creep into their mind.

"Tav?" Fake Astarion finally speaks, saying their name as if he were saying it for the first time in a long time, tasting it on his lips. The previous flirting gone. Instead he looked confused and as if just now he remembered something that was hidden in his mind. "You are them, aren't you? Gods, how could I forget... so beautiful." His red eyes glide along Tav's face, his voice nothing than a whisper. He's clearly lost in his head and Tav swallows thickly, realisation slowly grasping their mind but they fight against it.

"No, stop! Stop it! You can't be him. You can't... he's dead and your eyes are wrong. You're wrong." Tav says, their body starting to shake all over, threatening to cut him by mistake with the dagger still against his neck.

But now it's easy for 'the shapeshifter' to take Tav's wrist and move their hand away from his neck, easily wrenching the dagger from their fingers and tossing it aside. His lips stretch into a sad smile.

"That's what vampirism do to you, my love." Astarion says ever so softly, the deepest pain and sadness etched in his voice and Tav knows, feels it in their soul, that he is telling the truth.

So that's how Tav meets Astarion again, this encounter more painful and bittersweet than anything else.

They stay on the beach for a little while, Tav crying their heart out and Astarion trying to hold back his own tears. Both of them not expecting something like this to happen.

(Sorry if Astarion seems ooc.)

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The End (The Surprise, Part 25)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of afab body parts, baby times, emotional times, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Everything you've ever wanted, everything Emily's ever wanted–it's happening. ❤️

NOTE: You guys 😭😭😭 I've literally had so much fun writing this series! I know it's not the end end. I'll keep adding chapters as I feel like it. But still. This is a bittersweet one to finish up. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. ❤️

The End

You blinked awake, and it was as if your senses, your body itself, were restarting after a hard reboot. Your brain couldn’t quite catch up with the bright lights, the beeping of the machines, the throbbing pain below your belly…

Your breath caught in your throat. Your belly. It had shrunk, not completely, but it was empty, you knew. You coughed and winced, glancing around the room so quickly you made yourself dizzy, your brain seemingly unable to take in any of the visual information. You felt tears spring to your eyes, a cold panic seize your chest; you could hear your heart rate monitor beep faster, more urgently, until alarms were going off. Where was the baby!? Something was wrong, something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. She was gone. She was lost.

But, then, something familiar, finally. A voice you recognized. Emily’s: soft and gentle and comforting, the way she always sounded when you were scared and she was trying to calm you down. 

“Hey, hey,” she cooed, and your eyes swam as her face came into view. You were so confused and you felt sick and your stomach hurt and your baby… You choked out a sob and Emily gently grasped your face, kissing your eyelids. “It’s okay, honey. You’re okay.” She had huge, dark circles under her eyes, like she hadn’t been sleeping, and when your eyes focused, you could see that she was on the verge of crying, too. And that terrified you.

You couldn’t seem to get any words out, but managed to place your hand over your stomach, looking into Emily’s eyes to ask a question you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to.

Emily wiped tears from under your eyes and sniffled. “Baby, she’s fine. She’s just fine. She’s sleeping right there.” Emily pointed to the chair behind her. Beside it was an elevated box, an incubator, and inside, just barely poking out, you could see her skin, her little foot, minuscule and perfect.

You sobbed in relief and Emily kissed your forehead, wiping her own tears away before running a hand through your hair. “She’s okay, honey.” Her voice broke as she looked at you. “You scared us, you know that?”

You pulled Emily toward you, so you could press your forehead to hers, could just breathe her in. She was so relieved, had been so scared, her body literally shook with it. You kissed the side of her head, holding her close.

You cleared your throat and looked again at the incubator, shocked at how your stomach had shifted from being sick with worry to being sick with excitement.

“A girl?” you asked, voice hoarse from the anesthesia. Your eyes twinkled with mischief as you waited for Emily’s answer.

She nodded, grinning and shaking her head at the long-running joke. “You were right. You want to hold her?”

You nodded vigorously, trying to sit up further and wincing at the pain in your abdomen.

“Careful, careful!” Emily exclaimed, lunging forward to help you. “Be gentle with yourself, please, baby,” she insisted, watching you as if you could break at any moment.

Emily washed her hands thoroughly, then doused them in hand sanitizer before squirting an ungodly amount of sanitizer in her hands and bringing it to you. She rubbed it into your skin, then pulled your shirt open a bit so that your chest was exposed.

You waited, barely breathing, as Emily carefully pulled the incubator over. She opened the little door and reached in gingerly to grab the baby, cradling her carefully and kissing her forehead.

“Eve,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Meet your mama, sweet pea.”

Emily’s eyes were full of tears again–and so were yours–as she carefully placed the sleepy baby on your chest. You sniffed, blinking tears away as you cradled your daughter’s tiny, warm body. Eve gurgled and wriggled and blinked her eyes open. She wrapped her hand around your pointer finger and you giggled. Nothing had ever felt more right, more perfect in the world, than Eve resting on your chest, than her little heart beating against yours, than holding her here while Emily sat propped on the bed beside you, running her hand through your hair and kissing your head every few moments.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you whispered to the baby. Eve coughed a bit and started to cry and you patted her back gently. “Oh, shh. It’s okay, Evie. You’re okay, baby girl.”

You weren’t sure how long you sat like that, you and Emily, just watching her, just beaming to one another every time Eve moved, every time she made a new adorable sound, every time she yawned or blinked or squeezed her little fists. But it wasn’t long enough. You didn’t know that you’d ever get enough of this.

Dr. Delgado came in and smiled at you all. “How are all my ladies doing this morning?”

You grinned so wide your cheeks hurt. You pressed your hand into hers and looked into her eyes. “Thank you. So much.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and by her voice you could tell she really meant it. “Now, Y/N, you lost quite a bit of blood during the c-section and the resulting surgery to repair your uterine lining. I’m terribly sorry to have to tell you this, but… you will not be able to have more children.”

Emily squeezed your shoulder, and both she and Dr. Delgado waited a bit, as if waiting for you to break down. But you didn’t feel sad, at least not right now. You had Eve. You and Emily had a child. That’s what you had set out wanting, and that’s what you had. You couldn’t imagine needing anything or anyone else besides the two girls you had with you right now.

You nodded. “Okay.”

“It also might take a bit longer for your c-section incision to heal than most, since your body’s healing internal damage, too. All that to say, let Emily help you. Understood?”

“Understood,” you confirmed.

“Alright,” Dr. Delgado consulted her tablet. “Some official business now. Emily, now that Y/N’s awake, do you feel comfortable putting the name on the birth certificate?”

“I do,” she said, her hands never leaving you.

“Alright, so obviously, first name ‘Eve.’ Last name?”

“Prentiss,” you told her. You’d both decided that a long time ago.

“Any middle name?”

You looked at Emily and she nodded toward you. “Your call, honey. You won.”

You stared down at Eve’s sweet, crinkled face and smiled. “Julien.”

Emily sucked in a little breath beside you, furrowing her eyebrows when you looked at her.

You shrugged. “It’s can be a girl’s name. Your family should be a part of her name, too.”

“Eve Julien Prentiss,” Dr. Delgado repeated. “Is that right?”

You both nodded, and Emily planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Alright. She was born yesterday, August 24, at 5:42 AM. Four pounds, one ounce. 17.1 inches. All in all, she’s doing very well. I’d like to monitor her for at least 48 more hours and, ideally, I’d like her latching and breastfeeding, at least some, before you take her home, if we can make it happen. We can always supplement with formula as needed, though. Right now, she’s got a nasal cannula to help her breathe, but she’s doing very well with it, so I think we should have you guys home within the week, at most. Alright?” She set down the tablet and gestured toward you. “While I’m here, you want to try breastfeeding?”

“Yes!” you answered excitedly. “Please.”

Dr. Delgado handed you a moon-shaped pillow and placed it around your waist. “Okay. So we’re gonna send you home with one of these. It’ll help you stay comfortable, especially while you’re recovering. You’re gonna want to do what’s called a football hold while your incision is healing…”

She gingerly lifted Eve off your chest and positioned her under your arm, just like you were holding a football, and showed you how to hold her head up. “You’re gonna kind of lift the breast up,” Dr. Delgado explained. “And then you bring her to the nipple. You almost want her nose to touch the breast.”

You followed her instructions, using your other hand to press Eve toward your nipple. Emily watched behind you, her fingers rubbing the bottoms of Eve’s feet. You frowned a bit as the baby tried to squirm away, twisting her head.

“Here,” Dr. Delgado suggested. “Try squeezing the tissue around the nipple to make, like, a nipple sandwich. Then brush it against her mouth. She should kind of yawn… Yes! Just like that!”

Eve opened her mouth wide, and you gently pressed her toward your nipple, gasping softly as she took hold and began to suckle. Her little mouth was warm and firm against you.

You smiled and turned to Emily, who was looking at you like she might start crying again.

“Well, that was easy,” Dr. Delgado said, clapping her hands together. “I tell you what, if all babies latched that easily, new parents would spend half the amount of time in the hospital.” She stood and made some notes on her tablet before moving toward the door. “I’ll leave you all alone for a bit. She’ll unlatch when she’s done, you can burp her, and she’ll likely want to take a nap afterward.”

“Thank you, Dr. Delgado,” you called after her.

“Thank you!” Emily echoed.

When the three of you were alone again, Emily wrapped her arms around your neck from behind, planting kiss after kiss on the side of your face.

“Oh, honey, you look so beautiful,” she said, nearly breathless. “Both of you. You know what…”

Emily stood and rifled around in her purse for her phone. When she had it, she stood back and held it out, as if to take a photo.

“Hey!” you protested. “I thought we said no hospital pics!?”

Emily gave you a pointed look. “We said no labor photos. And I kept my word on that! Honey, you’re too pretty not to take a picture of. I mean, look at you!” Emily’s eyes were suddenly swimming again. “Look at my beautiful girls!”

You let Emily take her pictures, knowing that you’d probably be glad to have them later.

A few minutes later, as Emily was scrolling through the photos with a discerning eye–“Baby, do you mind if I post one of these? …Not the boob ones! Just one of the others? Oh! Could we take one of all three of us?” –Eve unlatched from your nipple and yawned, spilling milk out the side of her mouth, which you dabbed up with your hospital gown.

“Hey, Em,” you called to her. “Could you come here and take her for a second? I need to burp her, but I’ve got to move a little, my leg’s falling asleep.”

She was at your side faster than you could finish the request, lifting herself into the hospital bed next to you, and gently taking Eve from you.

“Okay,” you said, fighting off a yawn. The adrenaline of meeting your daughter was wearing off, and the exhaustion of meds and healing and new motherhood was hitting all at once. You tapped Emily’s arm. “I can take her back.”

“I can burp her, honey,” Emily told you, reaching slightly for a burp cloth and draping it over her shoulder. “Why don’t you rest for a while?”

“Are you sure?” you asked, already lowering yourself, slowly, painfully, so that your face rested on Emily’s lap.

“I’m sure,” she said, running one hand through your hair while the other tapped rhythmically against Eve’s back. “It’s not just you now, honey. I can finally pull my weight.”

You squeezed her thigh, smiling against her. “Oh, Em. Baby, you’ve pulled more than your weight. The whole time.”

Before you had the chance to say anything else, you were conked out. So conked out that you were drooling, even snoring a bit. Emily smiled and shook her head at you.

Eve let out a burp that seemed almost too big for her body, and Emily chuckled. “Oh, good job, sweet pea,” she whispered, kissing Eve’s head. “That was a big one. Let’s not wake up Mama, though.” Emily patted Eve’s back for a bit longer, then noticed the deepening of the baby’s breath, the rise and fall of her tiny chest. Eve was asleep, too.

Emily watched you both, her heart filled with so much love she thought it might burst. And to think, just 24 hours ago, she’d been so close to losing you both. She’d never been more thankful in her life, never more determined to keep people safe and happy than she was you and Eve.

In a moment of inspiration, she fished her phone out of her pocket, and held it above her head, positioning all three of you in the photo. You, curled asleep on her lap and Eve sleeping softly on her chest beneath her hand.

She typed out a caption for social media:

My girls ❤️

She couldn’t help it. You were, both of you, too good not to share. And she’d gotten about a million calls from the BAU, not to mention your mom and even her mom, asking for photos and updates. She pressed post and then threw the phone to the side, content for now just to be. She would never take you for granted again, knowing she could have lost everything yesterday. But instead, she had gained everything. Everything she’d ever wanted, here in this room, in this bed. Forever hers. Her girls. She was the luckiest woman in the world.

[maximotts]

Free use cowgirl Wanda 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Going to the grocery store because Wanda’s been so busy lately only to find Wanda there and you’re like “omg hi Wanda 😊 But wait I thought I was doing the shopping this week?” and you check your phone to see if you’ve missed something. You haven’t. Wanda just couldn’t wait to bend you over 💞💞

My phone is doing the ios17 update and I'm just remembering I needed to finish answering this ask whoopsies

This got longer than expected (it's only like 600 words tho), but I simply cannot apologize for free use cowgirl Wanda content uhmmm cws for public sex and typical farm Wanda dirty talking, 18+ obvs

I don't think I've said it before, but Wanda does errands to shops in town to drop off farm goods every week because shopping local is good and cute! So there's a very high possibility you'd run into her at the grocery store and you're always so giddy when you see her, the shop owner thinks you two are just precious!

He doesn't even notice Wanda holding your hips so tight you're squeaking or how she's taunting you by pulling the ends of your pigtails! When you excuse yourself to finish the rest of your shopping, Wanda follows oh so innocently until the two of you are out of eyesight... and maybe she spots you stretching to reach the flour at the very back of the shelf, flowy dress riding up to show off your legs, how's Wanda supposed to do anything but pin you against the shelves?

"What right do you have to look this damn beautiful all by yourself back here?" And you can barely get a word in between Wanda's kisses, particularly when she takes your tongue and sucks, leaving your mouth an absolute mess.

At the sound of Wanda undoing her belt, you startle, trying and failing to wrench your thigh from where your girlfriend was shamelessly hitching it high around her hip. "Are you crazy? Someone's going to see us!"

"Now bunny, don't be like that," Wanda's totally unbothered by your struggles, knowing you'd settle as soon as she gets her hand up your panties— and she's exactly right. "I believe we have an arrangement, or did you forget?"

You couldn't possibly forget, your mind always racing with thoughts of how and when Wanda would decide to fuck you again. Sometimes you baited her into it, not wanting to wait, but being taken in the back of the town's only grocery store was an idea that'd never dared crossed your mind. Wanda's either until about five minutes prior.

"Good girl..." Wanda's smile is stunningly bright as she feels you relax against her, arms winding around her shoulders while she lines up her strap, opting not to prep you for the sake of time. "I'd guess we have about ten minutes before Steve finishes counting the jars I brought and writing me a check so behave and be quiet."

It's the shortest ten minutes of your life, the time flying by under Wanda's praises and the knee-buckling orgasm she gifts you. Your teeth desperately bite into the shoulder of Wanda's coat as she continues to fuck you, pumping your full of her cum until she's satisfied.

Pulling out was bittersweet, the brunette loving your impish whines but hating to have to leave. She did have to exercise some self-restraint, but that didn't mean she couldn't pick up where she left off later... "You'd better keep every last bit of my cum in that sweet pussy or I'll drag your ass right back here and we'll start all over again. Understand?"

"Uh huh..." It's terrible how quickly Wanda takes all your thoughts with such a quick fuck; you can tell how spaced out you sound, but you don't have anywhere near the coherence you need to mask it. You'd have to go straight back to the house after this, could only hope you remembered the rest of what you needed to get for dinner.

"I have a few more stops to make so I'll meet you back at home. Text me if you need anything, love you." Wanda sends you off with another kiss and a pat on the ass and before you know it, she's gone and you've never done your shopping more dreamily.

[blondwhxrewrites]

Authors note: might make a little continuation of this

"Scott, I can't magically make Stiles fall asleep", you said as you walked up to the front door of your best friend's house.

"He hasn't slept in three days", Scott said in a worried voice.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep if I were recently possessed by an evil spirit either", you retorted as you opened the door for Scott.

"That's not the point", Scott huffed in annoyance.

"Then what is it?", you questioned as you stepped into Stiles's house and took off your shoes.

Scott turned to look at you with an exasperated sigh. "You and Stiles have this connection; I don't know; I just think if you were to stay with him during the night, he might sleep", he explained

You stared at him blankly. You blinked a few times, needing time to fully process what your friend had just said. "You want me to have a sleepover with Stiles?"

"Yes! That would be perfect!", Scott said, his voice full of hope, and he clasped his hand on your shoulder. "Please", he pleaded.

"What are you guys doing here?", Stiles said, suddenly appearing from the kitchen, where he had just poured himself a bowl of extremely unhealthy cereal.

You pointed at Scott. " He broke into my room and dragged me here." You had no problem throwing Scott under the bus.

Stiles raised a brow, and he looked at Scott questioningly. "Yeah, but the door was locked. How did you get in?", he asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Your dad gave me a key to the house a long time ago", you answered, and you walked towards where Stiles was. You passed him and entered the kitchen, and you immediately went to the drawer where they kept all of their snacks.

Stiles nodded slowly, and he watched as you grabbed a bag of chips. He looked at Scott, who gave him a shrug, and then he looked back at you. "My dad gave you a key?", he asked.

You nodded your head, grabbed a handful of chips, and shoved them into your mouth. Once you had chewed and swallowed them, you said, "Yeah."

Scott cleared his throat as he took a step forward. "Well, anyway, we came here to check up on you", he said, and he gave Stiles a bittersweet smile.

Stiles just rolled his eyes in response, and he turned back and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed his bowl of cereal and sat down next to you at the dining table.

"I came here for snacks", you chimed in.

Stiles chuckled. "I feel so loved", he joked, and he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"Hey, it's not my fault your dad buys the best snacks."

Scott rolled his eyes at his two best friends' banter, and he took a seat across from them. "Your dad said you haven't been sleeping,", Scott suddenly admitted. 

A silence swept throughout the room. Stiles froze and tensed up as if he had just been caught doing something bad. "I've been sleeping." His voice wavered.

You stopped eating your chips, and you looked at Stiles in concern. "You've been having nightmares, haven't you?", you said in a soft voice.

Stiles let out a sigh, and he leaned back against the chair. He nodded. "Yeah, I have", he mumbled. He pushed his bowl of cereal away, suddenly not hungry anymore.

You frowned. "I'm sleeping over tonight", you stated.

Stiles head perked up, and he looked at you in surprise. "Wait, really?", he asked suddenly his whole demeanor lit up again.

You nodded your head, and you looked at him with a smile. "Yes"

Scott got up from where he sat. "Well, I have things to do, so, uh, I'm going to go, bye", he said, giving you two an awkward wave of goodbye, and then he was gone.

"Let me guess he bribed you into sleeping over with me."

"Yep"

[hgfictionwriter]

Gravity

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie was the love of your life. And you'd like to think you were hers. Even if you can't be together, life gives you moments where you find one another again.

Warnings: Angst. Smut. Longing, passionate sex. Cheating.

A/N: I know angst wasn't high on the poll, but I did get a couple of asks for it and sometimes I'm just drawn to it!

"Any interest in grabbing coffee this weekend? I'm in town for a tournament."

You exhaled wearily as you read the message from Jessie. There was a time when seeing her name on your phone would've fill you with elation and bring a smile instantly to your face. Those days were gone.

There were many times you swore you were going to block her number, but you could never bring yourself to do it, or truly, get anywhere close to it. Years had passed and she still had a hold on you. And seeing as she messaged without fail anytime she was in town - and on birthdays, and Christmas, and milestones - perhaps you still had a hold on her.

She'd been the love of your life once. Maybe she still was. But her career had taken her around the globe and from your embrace. She'd loved you deeply, too, you never doubted that. She'd pleaded with you to come with her, but you couldn't leave. You had too much here and if you left solely for her, no matter how much she meant to you, you'd lose yourself and it'd ruin you both.

So while she climbed podiums and lifted trophies, you stayed. You tried to move on. You were seeing someone now, in fact. Not the first and not the last. But anytime Jessie came to town, your life as is now always faded away and you let her back in. And it wasn't that you didn't care for your girlfriends, it was simply the fact that this was Jessie, and nobody could compare.

Your insides churned, your conscience trying desperately to hold you on moral ground, but memories of Jessie flashed through your mind and suddenly you missed her so much it hurt.

"Sure. When are you free?"

-------

It was never just coffee.

True, you caught up. You heard about her latest competitions, the team, her family, new hobbies, and she was equally curious about you - your work, how was your family, your friends, were you sleeping enough.

You purposefully didn't mention your girlfriend, and if she had anyone, she didn't mention them either.

"Do you have plans after this?" She asked, looking up at you through her eyelashes before refocusing on her cup, which she idly played with.

"No. What about you?" She looked back up at you and the feeling inside of you was instant.

"No. Evening's free to do whatever." You held each other's gaze. "I've missed you," she confessed in a quiet voice, gaze unwavering.

You gave a subtle shake of your head as a bittersweet smile crossed your lips. "I've missed you, too." She exhaled, you weren't sure if it was relief or regret. Regardless, she sat back and spoke again.

"Want to go for a walk?"

You nodded.

You both knew you were going to the park to your bench without saying a word about it. You ignored how your arms brushed against one another's as you walked. When you reached the bench, you sat down together, far too close.

She talked and though you listened, you couldn't help but think back to how you used to go to this park on dates. You'd sit on this bench and she'd retrieve snacks she'd packed for you both. You'd kiss her between bites and you swore you were looking at your future wife.

You were pulled back to the present as her fingers brushed against yours. As always, you didn't pull away. Instead, you laced your pinkies together and looked over at her.

"Do you have your own room?"

Her expression faltered briefly, realization as to why you couldn't go back to your place hitting her. She recovered swiftly and gave a faint smile.

"Being captain has its perks."

--------

Her door clicked open and you collided into one another, falling through the doorway in a hungry kiss and a desperate embrace. You pressed her against the wall hard, but kissed her harder, your arms wrapping around the back of her neck as her hands wandered over you in a needy frenzy.

"I missed you so much," you whispered. She was already starting to lift your shirt over your head and you had no desire to stop her.

"I missed you too," she returned as she started to kiss down your chest and unbutton your jeans. "I was so happy when I learned we were playing here. I've been thinking of you non-stop."

You sighed contentedly as you started undressing her as well. It didn't matter how many times you saw her undressed, she still took your breath away. However, seeing each other as infrequently as you did, it was obvious to you how much more toned and defined she'd become over the years. She was truly a sight to behold.

Soon she was kissing you and pushing you further into the room. You bumped into the desk, the lamp and other items rattling as you did so, but it didn't deter either of you and instead she lifted you onto the surface.

"I dream of you," she said in reverie as you spread your legs for her and her fingers immediately nestled themselves between your folds, thoroughly slick with your arousal for her. You wrapped your arm around the back of her flexed shoulders and tilted your hips towards her. She smiled at the invitation.

"I want you inside," you told her. You were aching for her. "I've been waiting too long."

A subtle gasp fell from both your mouths as she wasted no time and sunk into you to her knuckles. Her knees gave slightly as you enveloped her tightly in your warmth. She rolled her head against yours.

"Oh God, it's been way too long."

"I need you, Jess," you told her and she locked eyes with you. She obliged you immediately, withdrawing to the tips of her fingers before plunging back in. Your head fell back and she began to devour your neck and pump in and out of you.

"Fuck me," you said and she clutched you tighter to her.

"You know this isn't just fucking." She corrected you, her voice firm as she urged you to look at her. When you did, you saw that familiar intensity and longing. You worried one day you wouldn't see the emotion behind her eyes, but for now, you did.

A mixture of sounds soon filled the room. Gasping breaths, moans, the rattling of items being jostled on the desk, and her thrusting in and out of you to the hilt.

At one point, Jessie stopped to pick you up and carry you to the bed, laying you down near the edge and climbing on top of you, entering you easily once more. Your mouth fell open as she filled you again and you wrapped your legs around her.

You were rising steadily towards your climax as she pumped into you, the bed shifting under the force of her thrusts. She had an arm under your back and clutching your shoulder, holding you close to her. Her fingers dug into your skin almost painfully, but you invited it nonetheless.

"I miss you all the time," Jessie whispered as she fingers curled into you further.

"I miss you, too," you told her, ignoring how suddenly you began to feel an all too familiar stinging behind your eyes. "I can't forget about you. Or us." She held you even tighter and her strokes become somehow deeper and stronger.

The proclamations from either of you weren't new, but they hurt just the same. When you weren't with her, it was a like a low, dull pain - one that eventually you could ignore in its constancy. Being with her again though, brought that pain anew - a fresh wound that burned and ached in her absence until it grew dormant once more. Then she'd text. And the cycle would start again.

She was inevitable. But you didn't want to let her go.

A cry fell from your lips as she brought you over the edge. She rocked into you and whispered sweet nothings tenderly in your ear. When she eventually pulled back to look at you, the glistening sheen of her eyes wasn't lost on you. You kissed her sweetly.

"I love you," you told her as you cupped her cheek. She smiled, her lip trembling just so and her eyes glistened more.

"I love you, too."

You pulled her down into another kiss, your fingers now in her hair and you shifted your weight to roll you both, now Jessie on her back. She looked up at you with the same love and adoration she always had.

Life wasn't fair. But it was merciful at times.

You began kissing down her body, taking your time as you reacquainted yourself with her subtle curves and definitions. Eventually, you took a step off the bed to kneel in front of her.

She moaned pre-emptively and you smirked at how she ran her hand through her hair.

"You know I miss the way you taste," you said as you began kissing your way up her thighs. Again, she moaned deep in her chest.

You inhaled her scent and a shiver of anticipation went through you. You hooked your arms underneath her legs and leaned in, laying your tongue flat against her core before trailing upwards with a light flick of the tip of your tongue. She shuddered and gripped the sheets in her hands.

You dipped your tongue into her entrance and couldn't hold back a moan at how she tightened around you. You began to trace up and down her folds, pulling them into your mouth now and then and suckling lightly.

She moaned and writhed on the bed and you reached out to grasp one of her hands. She clutched you tightly.

Done with your teasing, you leaned in and began to lap at her. A loud groan fell from her mouth and she bucked her hips up into your face. You pushed her back down and began to flick your tongue over her clit.

"Oh my God," she panted as she ground her hips into the bed and then up into your face. You smiled into her with appreciation and began to suck on her clit as you traced a finger around her entrance.

"Oh God," she repeated, bringing her hands up to cover her face now as you teased her. You ran your fingers through her wet folds, getting your fingers slick with her arousal before you sank your fingers into her.

"Y/N." Your name fell from her lips in a strangled moan as she tensed up, her hands now balled into her fists against her eyes.

"I love you, Jessie," you said before pulling her clit into your mouth once more and slowly, deeply pushing in and out of her.

"Oh fuck," her voice was tight and shaky. She took a few sharp breaths before reaching down blindly, palming at the bed and looking for your free hand. You grasped her hand and she gripped you desperately.

Your name was on her lips again as she rocked her hips up into you and you served her unwaveringly. You wanted her to know that she was the only one on your mind. You wanted her to know that it was different when you did this for her. It was special. She was special.

Eventually, her hips began to buck erratically against you and you felt her tighten around your fingers. You adored how you felt a rush of her juices run down your chin.

You gave her a few moments even after you felt her relax into the bed. Even though her body had grown listless, her hand still gripped yours and you didn't let it go as you climbed back onto the bed to lay with her.

You held each other for what felt like ages. You wanted to stay like this for as long as possible, but you were both torn from your private world when your phone began buzzing across the room.

She inhaled deeply, your head rising on her shoulder as she did so.

"I guess you have to go?" Though she tried to keep her tone even, the lament in her voice was evident.

You tucked your head into her chest and pulled her closer. "I don't want to."

She embraced you tightly and kissed the top of your head.

"I don't want you to either."

Eventually, the buzzing stopped. Although neither of you had moved, the reverie had been broken as reality continued to encroach on you.

"I won't be playing forever, you know," she eventually said, her voice small now.

You nodded against her. As much as it was true, it was a fantasy that you couldn't let yourself indulge in.

"Do you know when you'll be back?" You asked, already knowing the answer. She shook her head with an inaudible sigh.

"Call me when you do come back," you said quietly as you lay a lingering kiss on her chest. She pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head once more.

"I'll be counting the days."

————

A/N: Part Two is available here.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #59] Betting Against Yeonjun

warnings: there's a section towards the start where I was really going thru it with my adoration for jk lmao bingo if you spot it!!!, seokjin, byeol at her best!!, jungkook also at his best!!!!, mmm I luv our starluvrs <3, conversations re: the first night they met waaaa, okay phew where to start: smut, jungkook's phone gallery is a hotbed of sin (recording), semi-public (club booths), bratty b, dominant koo, a lil degradation, (he says something that would piss me off (b is a better woman than I!! (but she gets her own back!!))), oral (m), lots of lovely words, a little titty worship <3, b on top (yeehaw), creampie, cum eating, oral (f), jimin + nabi!!!!!

a/n: this was the final chapter on wattpad before bd got taken down :( it's very bittersweet. also makes me suuuuuper aware of how few updates we've had since (1.... we have had 1 update (wattpad really knocked the wind from my sails, and if you've been keeping up with me outside of bd, you'll know how crazy busy I've been (the plus side is that I'm so nearly freeee to write to my hearts content for a couple of weeks! <3)))

wc: 10.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

While Jeongguk has always looked good behind the bar of Dionysus, you can't help but think he looks so much better in the middle of a tight-knit crowd, with an arm looped around your waist and a drink in his hand.

Under the cosmic lights of Dionysus, there's a glisten to his lips—alcohol yet to be licked away—and the sheen of sweat on his skin. Hair dark and dishevelled, his fringe tickles at his brows. You don't push it out of his face, 'cause it'll just fall back into position as soon as he moves to the beat of the music.

With a smile on his face, Jeongguk turns to his friends. Chants the lyrics to some song that soundtracked the summers of their youth. Is rowdy and careless in how he jumps around, but not once does he ever loosen his grip on you.

You're all in your finest—the boys in suits, and girls in cocktail dresses. While Nabi is in a deep navy satin number, Danbi has gone for black. Seoyeon opted for an early night, her and Yoongi heading home when the rest of you made your way to the bar.

In the dress picked out for you by Jeongguk all those weeks ago, you're far too overdressed for a bar like this—but you're also under the influence of far too much alcohol.

You know this is one of those golden moments; the nights you won't remember but will have stories to tell about it in years to come. Folklore. Whispers of Aurelian affairs weaved into your subconscious.

History has been made tonight. Not the kind that'll be read about in textbooks, but the kind that grandkids will be told a dozen times over—in a home that's covered in tiny specks of shimmer, while the scent of samgyeopsal waltzes from the kitchen to the courtyard.

So, no, Jeongguk doesn't loosen his grip, and he doesn't think he ever will.

You ignore just how many drinks have been knocked against you, and have also long forgotten the annoyance of sticky liquor on your feet. It's nothing a shower won't fix. Knowing the man beside you as intimately as you do, you're almost positive it's where you'll end up in a few hours, anyway.

Thoughts of you and him doing as you so often do have you wishing you were home already. Tonight is for celebrating, though—and oh, how lovely it is to have an excuse to celebrate Jeon Jeongguk.

Venus herself would've had a hard time crafting him, you think. Carved from marble and yet soft as the silky words he likes to wrap you up in, he's unlike anything of this earth.

For all of his thoughts about you, and the cosmos, and how he's certain 'Milky Way' is written where a location should be on your birth certificate, you've had just as many deliberations.

He says he was born in Busan, but men like him don't just come to be as a result of random genetics. He's forged of gold. Perfection in the form of a mere mortal man.

But then he's shouting something to Jimin over the sound of the music, and he stutters a little. Repeats himself with a goofy little grin, unphased by his innate imperfections, and it only serves to make your heart swell.

Jeongguk isn't perfect. He's capable of making mistakes and saying the wrong things. He wears toe-separating socks more often than you care to acknowledge, and sometimes he can be a little stroppy for no reason.

The pout always eases, though, and he derives such joy from those stupid socks that you can't ever bring yourself to tell him how ridiculous they are.

Perfection isn't measured in traits. It's measured in perception.

And you've never perceived a human more perfect for you than Jeon Jeongguk.

Anyone who looks your way would agree—or maybe they'd just see the way you're looking at him, all dewy-eyed and fawn-like, and know that there must be a little magic between you both.

When he turns his attention back to you and realises just how much adoration is glittering your eyes, he does the only thing he can do: tightens the arm he has around your waist and press the sweetest of kisses into your lips.

"Get a room!"

"Disgusting!"

"PDA! Gross!"

The noise that erupts for your friends is nothing short of embarrassing, even if it is obscured by the thudding base of the club speakers.

None of them really mean it. All have smiles on their faces. Are laughing.

Even if they weren't, they'd far rather you and Jeongguk were insufferably sweet, instead of still pretending like you aren't crazy about one another. You ignore them all anyway. Pout when he pulls away from the kiss. Get him back on your lips just as quickly as he left them.

Jeongguk's lips curve into a smile as he sinks his lips into yours and revels in the way it feels.

In the middle of a bar he could call home, surrounded by people he adores, Jeongguk's got you .

Has caught a shooting star, and is gloating just because he can.

"Fuck, I love you," he mumbles into your lips barely loud enough for you to hear, yet your arms wrap around his neck because you know exactly what he said. Kiss him back with a smile just as insufferable as his.

"Yeah?" You giggle.

Your friends have stopped caring—or at least, they've stopped teasing you. Are just letting you be. Suits Jeongguk fine. Just gives him the green light to tighten his arm around your back and lift you ever so slightly.

"You know I do."

Jeongguk loves without condition. Doesn't need to hear you say it back, not when he knows how you feel.

And yet you indulge him regardless.

"I love you, too," you tell him, and then can't help but giggle at how stupid it all feels. He puts you back on your feet. Press a kiss to your forehead, and then urges you back into the group. Shaking your head, you pull back. "Just gonna get another drink."

"I'll come with."

"Stay," you insist, squeezing his hand as you pull his grip away from your hand. He should be with his friends, you think. Plus you'll order him a drink, too. Won't put it on his tab, 'cause you know damn well that bar tab his friends love so much will no doubt migrate to his restaurant. Still, you make sure to call back, "Will only be a minute, babe!"

You know it'll pacify him for a moment or so, and you also just wanna indulge in the simple pleasure of watching his lip ring do the thing. You'll never grow tired of it. Two birds, one pathetically pretty heart-shaped stone.

You lose yourself in the crowd. Know this place like the back of your hands. Doesn't take you long to find yourself by the bar with an incredibly sober Yeonjun raising his brows in your direction.

He saw you coming. Already has a few empty shot glasses lined up on the tray ready to make you starfuckers.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to say something that'd feel far wittier in your drunk mind than would be in reality when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

Instantly, you flinch away.

The hand isn't cold nor is it aggressive; it's just not Jeongguk's. You knew without hesitation. Eyes flicking over to the mirrored backsplash of the bar, you briefly catch Yeonjun's unimpressed gaze.

He doesn't know the man who's taken the spot beside you, but he knows the man is far closer than a stranger should be.

He's strapping. Incredibly good looking. Broad shoulders, hair slicked back. Is put together in a way that men in Dionysus rarely are.

"Water?" Yeonjun offers you, 'cause no matter how much he likes to wind Jeongguk up, he's grown into a good man. Has a lot to thank Jeongguk for. His care for drunk punters, and making sure they're okay, is one of those things.

Yeonjun also knows Jeongguk would pluck every single cerulean hair from his head if he were ever to let anything happen to a single hair on yours.

"Yeah," you nod, edging away from the man beside you.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The man closes the space you created.

"You were in your element tonight," he says, looking down towards you. "Could be making a name for yourself instead of doing some kid's hard work for him."

When your eyes flicker up at him, they're sharp. Pointed. Daggers where daisies once were. Edging away again, you create a distance that isn't so easily closed this time.

"And you could piss off, Seokjin."

"Oh," he hums with the kind of smirk that would have sent you reeling once upon time. Just makes your stomach churn, now. "Full name? Am I in trouble?"

"I'd have to actually give a shit about you for you to be in trouble," you tell him, and are kind of surprised by how little you feel. You're not even angry. You're bored. A little irritated. Mostly indifferent. "And quite frankly the way you've been behaving recently has just confirmed everything I already knew about you. If you could stop interfering with my life, I'd really appreciate it."

"Interfering?" He half snorts, taking a swig on his drink. "You're the one who invited practically my entire department to your little boyfriend's fundraiser."

"I invited their wallets," you correct him, before turning back to Yeonjun. "The usual, please. Four."

He doesn't need to clarify what you're after. He knows the drill. Gets cracking on the starfuckers.

"Icy," Seokjin continues to tease. There's an arrogance to him. Curiosity, too.

You're not the woman who used to cry in his shower and beg him to stay. Your hair is longer, and your wardrobe is less refined. The role you played to be favoured by him is long-forgotten about now.

Stars don't belong in boxes. They'll just burn out. He never got the luxury to see you shine as brightly as you could, and now that he is, he thinks he likes it.

"There's a reason why you kept coming back, or have you forgotten?" He says with a kind of sleaziness you never before attributed to him. When you come to think about it, you realise that maybe you should have. "Need reminding?"

"No. What I really need is for you to gain a little bit of that decorum you like to pretend you have, and then I need you to stop embarrassing yourself," you assure him as you pull your phone from the small clutch bag you've been carrying with you. Flicking open your message thread with Jeongguk, you manage to put together a very tipsy string of messages that tell him to come to the bar. "You're beating a dead horse."

"If that were true, you wouldn't be talking to me right now," he smirks. "And if anything, I'm the horse in this equation, given how much I know you like rid—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, frankly taken aback by his vulgarity.

If there's one thing Seokjin always was when he was with you, it was respectful. Not to you, or your feelings, but to other people's perception of him. For him to be stooping to such a level just to get a rise out of you means one of two things: the insidious 'boys club' nature of his workplace has corrupted him, or that he thinks so little of you that he believes this is what'd make you fold.

"We ended well over a year ago, and you didn't even want to be in that relationship for just as long! Christ alive. You never had trouble getting laid when we were together. Find some other poor woman to bother—or better yet, just go home. Save everyone's sanity."

Seokjin shrugs. Casts his dark eyes down your glitter-speckled body. Smirks. "You know I always want what I can't have."

You're unattainable. Out of his reach. Belong to skies, when his feet are cemented into the sidewalk.

It's not why he's here, though.

You know him too intimately to understand how his brain works.

Kim Seokjin will never be the man he pretends to be. Will always be the lackey of some CEO. Will never quite own a penthouse, even though he'll probably land somewhere a few floors below. His full-potential will never be reached because he doesn't know how to apply himself in a way that isn't intended on bringing other people down.

He won't climb ladders; he'll just drag people beneath his feet to make himself feel taller. Goes through life as if he's wearing Cuban heels, and steps on the toes of anyone who threatens to achieve more than him.

When you were together, he didn't cheat for the forbidden romance of it all, or anything borne in innate human desires. He didn't do it because he particularly liked other women, or because you weren't satisfactory enough. Quite the opposite.

He cheated for the gratification of coming back to you. He'd hold your body with hands that had been covered in the evidence of someone else; tarnish you and leave himself squeaky clean. Was a power trip. An ego stroker.

It's what's fuelling him right now, you think. The way he knows your body and how his hands used to stroke up the curve of your waist. The eroticism of it all. Thoughts like that used to make you shudder. Now, they make you want to dry-heave.

He knows his hands have been replaced with Jeongguk's lips; that your skin is golden where it once was void of anything but markers of Seokjin.

You went to Jeongguk's apartment once after Seokjin had left those very markers on your throat. They were invisible, but you could feel them. His hands, his lips. How tender he'd been with your skin no matter how rough he had been with your heart.

Jeongguk had crafted you a nest out of every single pillow in his home that night. It was almost like he knew birds would play a pivotal role in the both of your lives. Was giving them— you —a safe place to hatch. To bloom. To shine.

Seokjin doesn't want you.

He just wants Jeongguk to be beneath him.

If that means also getting you beneath him in a more literal sense of the word, then so be it.

But as Jeongguk comes to stand in the space between you both, nodding towards Yeonjun with all the nonchalance he can afford, you know that nobody else will ever have you like he does.

Picking up one of the starfuckers, Jeongguk shoots it back. Picks up a second. Looks to you. Softly wraps his hand around your throat and strokes his thumb up towards your earlobe. Holds the shot to your lips. Waits for you to tip your head back ever so gently—and when you do, he slowly pours the liquor into your mouth for you.

Not once does he take his eyes off yours. Not even when you close them to swallow down the familiar sensation of what it feels like to be in love with him. Just naturally happens whenever you drink a starfucker. Always has done.

"Missed you," he tenderly says, as if it hasn't been a matter of minutes.

When he's holding you like this, his strong hand commanding the angle at which you can look at him, you're without any autonomy. You're his, his, his. The presence of a man you barely even remember being with fades into nothingness behind Jeongguk.

An incredibly love-drunk smile finds its way back to your lips. Jeongguk smiles, too, letting the hand holding your neck ease so that his arm can wrap over your shoulders, as yours does the same around his back. Hooked onto one another, physically as much as you are emotionally, there's a unified front to your partnership.

"These ours?" He asks, nodding towards the remaining starfuckers. You nod. Say nothing, 'cause you don't need to. Just squeeze his waist even tighter. Jeongguk glances up to Yeonjun. "Tab? Four more, and two lemonades."

"Right you are, boss," Yeonjun nods, and gets to work.

"Cheers," Jeongguk thanks him, then picks up one of the starfuckers. Turns ever so slightly, but not enough to loosen his grip on you. Smiles in Seokjin's direction. "Want one? They're good. Practically made her fall in love with me, though, so be careful. You might get a crush on me, too."

"Think I'd be fine," Seokjin scoffs back. "I don't tend to fall for charity cases that can only get girls who feel sorry for them."

"You'd be surprised by how much a starfucker could change your tastes," Jeongguk entertains him. "Take B for example. Used to date limp dick losers who couldn't get her off—"

"Gguk!"

"—One starfucker was all it took, and now it's a seven days a week occurrence. Ain't that a beautiful thing?"

Seokjin grates his jaw. Tries not to let it show. Fails.

"So you have to get her drunk to fuck her?" He sneers.

"Nah," Jeongguk laughs a little at such an absurd suggestion. "Just like I wouldn't need to be drunk to tell you to back off."

"Can she not talk for herself?"

He knows damn well you're able to speak for yourself — he just chooses to disregard everything you say.

"Can you not take a hint? You're not welcome," Jeongguk snaps, before swigging down the shot he had offered Seokjin. Is a little aggressive in how he tosses down the plastic shot glass. "Get fucked—by yourself, that is. My girlfriend isn't included in that suggestion."

"I think—"

"Seokjin," you finally sigh, voice laced with contempt. Shaking your head, you really don't know what more you can say to really drive it home. He never cared this much when you were together. "You're embarrassing yourself. Go home. Find a new bar. I don't care. Yes, I used your connections to get more money to the auction, and no, I'm not sorry. Use the money you saved from losing the bid to get a therapist, or a hooker, or anything that'll help you be a little less insufferable. Maybe an STD check, while you're at it."

He could make a crude remark about how he always wore condoms whenever he cheated.

You know this to be true, 'cause you know you tasted the latex on him once. Thinking about it doesn't hurt like it used to. Annoys you more than anything.

Instead, Seokjin concedes. Can feel the eyes of the bartender searing into him. Knows that you're right; he is embarrassing himself.

That was one thing he could never fault you for. You were always right. Each and every time you called him out on his bullshit, you were right to do so.

"You know where to find me whenever you're done fixing whatever's broken with him," Seokjin simply shrugs. Knows you have a complex. That you tried to 'fix' him, too.

"Fixed it already," Jeongguk says, 'cause he isn't letting Seokjin have the last word. "Seriously, man. You lost. Not because I won, but because you were never worthy of winning in the first place. Stay away or don't, but this is always what you're gonna be greeted with. Always."

Seokjin doesn't look at you. He stares Jeongguk out, instead. Smirks, as if he thinks Jeongguk is an idiot, but lets the ambiguity of any words he could speak linger in the air. Decides it will be a little more torment if he leaves you both wondering what he could have said instead.

He just doesn't realise that neither of you could care any less than you already do.

At this point, he's just like an annoying mosquito buzzing around. With any hope, he'll find another blood source he enjoys more and become an irritating presence for someone else instead.

"Christ," Jeongguk mutters, shaking his head when Seokjin finally retreats. Squeezes you tighter and presses a kiss to your cheek, before pulling the fresh drinks made by Yeonjun closer to your side of the bar. "He's fuckin' insufferable, B. The fuck did you ever see in him?"

Jeongguk pours the starfuckers into the lemonades, turning it into a makeshift version of a starlover. It'll do the job, and was easier to order than it would have been to explain the process to Yeonjun in the middle of a busy shift.

"Before we get into that—" you take the drink offered to you by Jeongguk, sipping a little down " —Seven days a week? Really?"

"Oh, c'mon," Jeongguk grins, as he begins to lead you both away from the bar. "You can't be annoyed with me! He was being a tool!"

The door that leads up to the private booths is closed today—none were booked out, and it saves the clean down time if that entire section stays off limits to punters.

Elevated above the dancefloor, the booths are in the balcony section that wraps around the room. People in the booths can see down to the dancefloor below, but you'd be hard pressed trying to look up into the booths from the dancefloor. They offer a little anonymity. Privacy.

It's why Jeongguk stuck Jiyeong and her friends up there on New Years Eve—purely so that he wouldn't have to deal with them.

Jeongguk isn't just any punter, though. He's the one who installed the door to make his life a little bit easier by keeping drunk stragglers out of the booths. Knows the code, 'cause it's just his birthday backwards.

And right now, he wants a little privacy with you.

"You didn't have to be one back!" You reprimand him as he punches in the code for the door, but you're smiling, too. It's not like you actually gave a shit. If anything, it was kind of hot watching him brag so arrogantly.

"I did," he assures you, quickly encouraging you through the door so as to not draw any attention to yourselves. Taps your ass just 'cause he can. Squeeze, again, just 'cause he can. "Didn't want the old man thinking I was a little virgin."

Rolling your eyes, you nudge him away as you begin to head up the stairs. He's right behind you. Is squeezing your ass again as soon as he can be. "No one is ever gonna look at you and think that."

"Oh, yeah?" Jeongguk flirts. "So when we first met, you thought I was some sort of sexed-up fuck boy, huh?"

"No," you innocently offer, stepping up into one of the booths, and sinking down into one of the plush sofas that run along the back wall. "But I did wish you hadn't been behind the bar so I could find out for myself."

Jeongguk puts his drink on the table in front of the booth sofas, then comes and plonks himself right down next to you. Is practically on your lap. Doesn't care. Is like a fully-grown dog who doesn't realise he's not a puppy anymore.

You just let him. Personal space is null and void.

"Oh? So you went home with Jimin 'cause I turned you on?" He nods to himself. Smirks. Looks incredibly pleased with himself. "Nice."

"Shut up," you laugh, a little scandalised that he's mentioning it so carelessly.

Jeongguk's got half a dozen starfuckers in his system, and does not care for tact. In fact, if he had it his way, he'd set the world to rights. Would make that ancient wish of yours come true, now that he isn't behind the bar.

You set about neatly arranging his hair as he steals your drink from your hand to take a sip.

"You were so pretty," he quietly says. Wraps his hand around your wrist to stop you from preening. Pulls your knuckles to his lips and presses a tender kiss against them. It comes naturally, being like this. "Still are. But that first night... Fuck. Spent my whole shift watching out for you. Was gutted when I got home and you were there."

It was so long ago now that it's almost hard to believe Jeongguk remembers it as clearly as he thinks he does.

"Looking for somewhere to charge your phone," he laughs softly, shaking his head, as he recounts the memories. "Just for you to end up forgetting it. What will we do with you, hey? Silly, pretty baby."

Your face scrunches up at his recollection of the details. Had you never gone home with Jimin, then perhaps you'd have never ended up here—but you kind of wish it had never happened. Wish that you'd stayed by the bar all night. That you'd have had the water Jeongguk gave you. That you'd have sobered up by the time he finished his shift, and asked if he wanted to walk you home.

The 'you' of present day is not the you that shot through the bar that night with reckless abandon for who got blinded by your shine. You wouldn't have stayed, if you'd have gone home with Jeongguk. Or wouldn't have asked him to stay. Would have fucked him and never spoken to him again.

Or maybe you wouldn't have. Who knows?

"Sorry it was all so... messy," you offer a little sheepishly.

Bad decisions were made by you both—but stars can only form when dust clouds collapse. You needed to break a little before you could become who you were meant to be.

Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Messy can be good," he promises, then adjusts you both. Pulls you across his lap. With a leg either side of his, you let your nose find its home next to his. Smile as his hands stroke up your back.

"Yeah?" You whisper against his lips.

"Mhmm," he mumbles, letting his lips sink into yours for a moment, before adding, "Got a canvas we made together that proves it."

The curve of your lips as you press into the kiss can be felt by him. Just gets him smiling, too. As his lip ring presses into your plump bottom lip, part of you wishes you were back in those damn busan photobooths. Want to see what it looks like. How you move together.

Slowly, he encourages your hips to languidly grind. Keeps the momentum slow, you both ignore the chaos of the club that echoes around you. He controls you with a hand on your waist, the other resting on your bare thigh.

The dress you're in—the one he chose—is everything he could ever want and more from an outfit on your body. It sparkles like the Han river under Banpo bridge during the evening light show, and clings to your body like droplets of water slowly sinking down an ice sculpture. Provides him with easy access, yet leaves his imagination free to go wild.

He knows your body well enough, now though. Knows the underwear you're wearing. Is impatient. Wants to push them to the side and get his hard cock buried in your tight walls.

Good things come to those who wait, though, and Jeongguk is more than willing to be a good boy for you.

Hidden in the darkness of the club, the thudding music is no match for the beat of your hearts. Lights splash you in colour every so often, but for the most part, you revel in your obscured entanglement.

His tongue slips into your mouth, and your hands tangle in his hair, deepening the kiss. You can feel how hard he is beneath you as you grind on his lap. It'd be easy, you think, to fuck him right now.

Jeongguk is right—good things do come to those who wait.

And he's been such a good boy.

You let your lips trail down to his throat. Latch on to his sweet spot just beneath his ear. Suck. Graze your teeth. Do the same to his earlobe, and feel his grip tighten. A moan vibrates in his throat.

Lips brushing against his ear, you whisper, "Phone."

Though your tone is soft, Jeongguk knows it's a command. Digs into his back pocket, keeping you firmly in place. The movement just has his thick bulge pressing even deeper against you, as his grip on your waist gets tighter.

It has you smiling; giddy with how glorious it is to have a man of such calibre so greedy for you.

It's not like it isn't reciprocal. Never before have you ever been so feral for a partner; so risky in your need to have them experiencing bliss because of you. Before Jeongguk, sex always served a purpose. Was never just sex for the sake of sex. There were deep-rooted issues and insecurities you were trying to fix.

But you're secure, now; in his grip, his hands, his heart. You don't have any ulterior motive for the things you do other than an innate need to make Jeongguk come undone. His buttons, his belts, his primal need to make you his; you'll undo them all.

Flicking open his camera, you stay in his lap as you reach across the sofa and rest the phone up against the wall that separates it from the next booth over. Tap on the little red record button. Though the lighting isn't entirely clear, enough bleeds in from the LED screens behind the DJ to clearly show the pair of you. Once his camera settings adjust to low light, you may as well have the main lights turned on.

Jeongguk raises a brow, tilting his head with sweet, puppy-like confusion.

"We're drunk," you tell him, as if either of you need any liquor to behave like animals. "Wanna make sure you remember this in the morning."

Jeongguk's hips push upwards as his hands on your waist keep you tight against his lap. "You think I ever forget fucking you?"

"Who said anything about fucking?" You tease with a smirk, biting down on your bottom lip.

He groans.

"If you blue ball me again, I'll die," he tells you. Flails a little. Leans back against the booth. Pouts. Wait for you to lean closer and deliver a pretty little kiss to make him feel better.

"We can't fuck here," you tell him with complete certainty, as if that's not exactly what you're hoping for. "Anyone could see us."

No one would be able to see you in this position, and you damn well know it, but it still feels incredibly exposed. You're a few metres from your friends and hundreds of other random club-goers. If you were to peep over the balcony railings, your hiding spot would be revealed.

"So?" Jeongguk smirks. "Everyone knows we fuck. Bet you they've imagined it. And you know how pretty you are when you cum? Everyone deserves to see that at least once in their life, B."

"We're gonna end up at an orgy one day, aren't we?" You tease him for his sheer unrelenting need to show you off.

He shakes his head. "Fuck no. Ain't no way anyone else is ever gonna touch you."

"No?"

"No," he tells you, stroking his hand up your chest and tightening his grip around the base of your throat. "You only cum for me."

It's a statement just as much as it is a command.

The thoughts are in Jeongguk's head now, though. You, and those cosmic calamities you call your eyes, and how they'd stare him out as someone else fucked you. The feeling gets under his skin and pollutes his heart. Pumps sulphur into his veins. Turns his blood green.

"Say it," he grits, as his hands move down to cup your chest. "Tell me who you cum for."

Yanking down the material of the top of your dress, Jeongguk wastes no time. Repeats a similar action with the cups of your bra. Gets your chest exposed.

If either of you were to look at his phone screen, you'd find your silhouettes look like fuckin' sin—but all you can focus on is him.

His lips latch around one of your nipples, harshly sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand massages at the other, pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger. Head tipping back, you continue grinding against him. Don't give him an answer 'cause it feels too good to focus on anything else but the sensation of him.

You indulge in the sheer volume of the club speakers. Moan without reservation. Gasp as he pulls away and delivers a sharp spank to your tit, before latching onto your other nipple.

The way your hips grind even deeper against him is testament to how badly you want him; the wetness seeping through your underwear and onto his trousers.

He grazes his teeth against your nipple. Makes you shudder. Licks. Kisses. Sucks again, then pulls away with an oh-so-satisfying pop. Holding your chest with his hands, Jeongguk is stern as he repeats: "Tell me who you cum for."

You could do it. Could say him. Could do as he asks.

Thing is, you don't think he really wants that.

You think he wants to be mean.

And you know you want him to be mean.

With a small shrug, you widen your eyes. Feign innocence. Like butter wouldn't melt, you suppose, "Anyone who touches me right."

He scoffs.

There's a look in Jeongguk's eyes that promises you that he'll get you leant against that damn balcony while he fucks you just to prove a point—not only to you, but to any fucker who thinks they could ever make you feel the way he does.

"Word?" He grits.

"Chess," you say without hesitation.

It's the green light he needs, but still he tells you, "Gonna be mean."

As much as he enjoys playing the roles of a person he's not when he fucks you, he also never wants you to ever take it to heart. Loves you so purely that he'll always do what he can to keep you comfortable.

It's cute.

Also entirely irrelevant right now, 'cause you want him to be mean.

"You're gonna try ," you tease.

Jeongguk scoffs, again. Likes how bratty you can be. Smirks. Knocks his head to the side. Shakes it. Grips your tits a little harder, then spanks one of them and is pleased with how your body jolts.

A wanton moan escapes your lips. Eyes on his, you're Jeongguk's to devour.

"You think anyone else could get you like this, huh?" He grits, dropping a hand to your spread legs. Sinks his hand between his crotch and yours. Is greeted with evidence of your arousal. Strokes his fingers against you. Gathers some of your slick on his fingers, and is ever so pleased when your lips part for him without a word. Sinking his fingers into your wet, wanting mouth, Jeongguk smirks. "Needy little slut."

The vibration of your moan around his fingers just confirms everything Jeongguk already knows.

He laughs. Is arrogant. Cocksure. Obscenely hot. Your brows furrow as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, before he grips the base of your throat again.

"If you aren't gonna use that mouth to give me serious answers, you're gonna use it for something else instead, aren't you?"

Oh, you're eager . Don't need telling twice. Are off his lap and sinking between his legs without even so much as a guided instruction.

"That's it," he husks as you quickly undo his belt. His trousers, too. Tug them down his thighs. Get his Calvins on show, and his furiously hard cock tenting in them. Your lips press kisses against the fabric, tongue wetting his shaft through the cotton. "Stop fuckin' teasing, baby. Suck it."

If there's one thing you know about Jeongguk, it's that he gets whiny when he doesn't get his own way. On your knees, eyes flicking up to his lust-laced features, you're not gonna be a good girl for him just 'cause he wants you to be. You're gonna hold out. Gonna get him whiny. Gonna—

"You know how many girls down there want this cock, huh? How many waste their time at the bar vying for my attention?" Jeongguk arrogantly smirks. Watches the change in your expression. The hardening of your eyes. The power relinquishing from you to him. The sulphur that's transferred. The club lights paint you in green. He licks his lips. Says, "If I want my cock sucked, I can get it sucked. Give me a reason not to."

Back in the early days, you and Jeongguk had been through his message requests together. He'd downplayed it, but you know it's true. Girls practically drool on the Dionysus bar for him.

If he wanted to, he could.

But he wants you.

Only ever wants you.

You're feeling challenged, though. Are petty. Shrug, "You know how many people hit on me by that very bar?"

He does. Has seen it himself. And has also seen how quickly you dismiss it. Never feels threatened.

Your hands work in tandem, one of them pushing up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his toned abs, the other tugging down on his boxers, revealing his cock.

There's something celestial about having Jeongguk like this. Hard and weak at the exact same time. The tip of his cock has the sheen of precum spilling from his slit, and you don't think you've ever seen him this hard. He's needy. Pathetic. Gorgeous.

Your tongue licks a stripe up his shaft, and Jeongguk's eyes close. His hand finds a home in your hair as his gaze lands on you again.

"I could do this for them," you assure him. Though the music is loud, Jeongguk reads your lips. Twitches as your tongue flicks against his slit. Lips pressing a kiss to his tip, you jerk him a little just to remind him of who is in the position of power right now. "Could fuck anyone I want."

Jeongguk smiles at this. Finds it funny. Cute, even.

"You could," he acknowledges. Tightens his grip on your hair. Gets you back in position, your lips wrapping around his cock as he begins to encourage a momentum. "But I'm still the only one who'll make you cum, aren't I? Could slut yourself out, but it's still me you'll be thinking about. Me you'll be wishing you were with. Me who you'll crawl back to 'cause no one else satisfies you."

With every sentence, he fucks his cock deeper into your mouth. Is practically hitting the back of your throat. Getting your eyes all watery—and he knows your pussy is even wetter.

He lets you do the hard work, but makes sure he pushes your head to the right rhythm. Keeps your movements shallow, focused on his tip, now. Is after one thing and one thing only.

Which is why when he starts moaning in a way that you know means he's close, you pull away.

"Fuck," he hisses, almost keeling over in his seat. The look he gives you is one of sheer disbelief.

"What?" You smile as if butter wouldn't melt. Pretend like you didn't realise he was about to spill over. "You wanna cum, or something?"

"You know I—"

"Go get one of your other girls, then."

Dragging you up onto his lap, Jeongguk laughs, clutches the sides of your face with his hands. Nudges his nose against yours. Doesn't care to keep up the pretence anymore, 'cause he's sensing a nerve was struck.

Even if you are just being petulant for the sake of it, he doesn't ever want you to feel like it's a viable option. Says, "You know I don't want anyone else. Stupid."

"S'not what you said," you childishly pout against his lips. You know damn well he didn't mean it. Honestly, hearing him speak with such arrogance was a turn on; the acknowledgement that even though he's desired, you know he's chosen you. "You said—"

"Hey—you said you could fuck anyone down there," he reminds you. Presses a feathery kiss against the tip of your nose. "And you could. I don't want you to, though."

"No?"

"No, Byeol," Jeongguk whispers against your lips now. Lets his hand sink to your underwear. Pushes them to the side. Lines you up against his shaft. Encourages you to rock ever so gently, coating him in everything you are. "Want you forever, B. Just you and me. You want that, hmm? This, forever?"

Jeon Jeongguk has this way of making you feel powerful and pathetic all within the same moment. You want him so badly it hurts. And so you nod. Raise your hips. Line the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Remind him, "No one else makes you feel like I do. They never will."

It's funny, 'cause that's exactly what Jeongguk was wanting to hear from you earlier. If he really wanted, he could be a dick—but you're the one being needy now, and he likes it so much. Adores it, even. You're so cute , he thinks. So he shakes his head. "No one, baby. Just you."

"You're mine," you tell him, then sink down onto his length. Both of you gasp from the sensation. You've been waiting for this; desperate for it. Foreplay is fun, but all Jeongguk ever wants these days is to utterly and completely lose himself in you. This, to him, is Nirvana.

He nods. Lets his eyes close as your walls adjust to his size. He's so big that it should be painful, but there's something about fucking Jeongguk that just works. The fit is snug, but it's perfect. "Yeah, baby. Yours."

Your hips grind ever so gently, the feeling of fullness he gives you hitting just right. Clit rubbing against his neatly trimmed patch of hair above the base of his cock, you're overwhelmed with just how good it feels to give yourself up for him.

As the sensation settles in, he encourages your movements. Gets you bouncing, his hands on your ass to keep control. Presses wet kisses to the base of your throat. Promises, "You're gonna make me cum so hard."

A man of traditions, Jeongguk takes 'ladies first' incredibly seriously. Knows he's been edged so well this evening that he won't last long at all. Needs to make sure you get there before him.

He sits you up straight. Stops your movements. Has you warming his cock as he just kind of stares at you for a moment. Everything else is drowned out around you both; the music, the lights, the fact this is Jeongguk's place of work, the way his phone is still recording you both.

With a hand on your waist, he holds your cheek with the other. Smiles as your eyes close, head sinking into his touch. Is so in love with you it feels like his heart might just explode.

"My pretty girl," he grins, biting down on his bottom lip. Shakes his head as if he can't believe his luck.

Your chest is exposed, pretty purple posies blooming on your skin from his lips. There's a sheen of glitter all over your body, and Jeongguk knows there must be one on his, too. It's getting harder to distinguish the pair of you as the days go by; your orbit growing smaller.

Both of his hands drop your pussy. One spreads your lips, while the other slowly rubs against your clit. Instantly, you tense a little, the pleasure pulsing through you.

"My pretty, needy girl," he corrects himself, and is incredibly pleased when you nod.

As one of your hands wraps around his wrist, you try your hardest to not start fucking him again. Want this feeling to persevere, but also innately want to coax an orgasm out of him. It's human nature. He's building you up. You wanna do the same right back.

Thick and firm inside you, Jeongguk's cock throbs from just how tightly your walls clamp around him when he begins toying with your clit. Head tipping back, the laugh that stutters in Jeongguk's chest has you whining.

"Stop being so hot," he groans. "Gonna make me cum so fuckin' fast."

Admitting this is a mistake, for it just makes you wanna interrupt his plans of making your finish first. Gets your ass bouncing on his map as Jeongguk desperately tries to hold himself back; to regain a little control. It's a fruitless endeavour. The silky warmth of your cunt is too good.

"Fuck," he grits, giving into the feeling. "B—"

His words are cut off by your lips stealing a kiss from him, that he then steals right back. Messy and without any considered thought behind them, your kisses dissolve into frantic, breathless whimpers. Jeongguk can't hold off.

Head knocking back, Jeongguk's grip on your waist tightens. He holds you down in place, his thick shaft filling you entirely. He's bottomed out; fully encased in the woman he loves. It's too fuckin much. His legs shake. Chest shudders.

And then it's happening; thick ropes of cum spurting into your cunt, filling the spaces he can't reach. He just wines. Whimpers. Curses. "Fuck. Cumming. Making me cum so fuckin' hard, babe. Fuck. Oh, fuck, this cunt. So fuckin' perfect."

His praise is met with the sweetest of giggles, which only encourage him to cum even harder . Both endless and over far too soon, Jeongguk cums so deeply inside you it feels like he's losing all the oxygen in his brain; like a trap door has been pulled beneath him and he'll never stop falling.

Lips finding yours once more, he eases his grip on your hips. Encourages slow strokes of your pussy up and down his cock just to ease the final spurts of cum out of him.

With a laugh and an incredibly heavy chest Jeongguk leans back once more. Shakes his head. Can't stop smiling. Nor can you.

When his gaze finally lands on you a moment or so later, he's still grinning as he whines, "I wanted to make you cum first."

As mad as it sounds, making Jeongguk cum is satisfying enough for you.

He would disagree. Thinks the concept of you not cumming is pure insanity. How anyone could have you like this and not strive to make you come undone is criminal. Also knows he can't stay inside you for much longer, 'cause the overstimulation might just kill him off.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Jeongguk leverages his position. Lays you down, your head near his phone, his cock still inside you. Kisses the base of your throat as he reaches up for his phone. It's warm from the battery being drained, but it's still recording. He leans across and stands it up against one of your drinks on the table. Not much is in frame—but enough to capture his soaked cock glistening under the club lights as he pulls out of you.

Jeongguk is impatient. Tucks himself into his boxers and sinks down immediately. Plugs your hole with his fingers, keeping his cum inside you. Latches his lips around your clit. Sucks. Whines. Vibrates. Makes you writhe as your back arches, legs wrapping around his head.

If heaven is a place on earth, Jeongguk knows it must be between your legs.

His tongue strokes against you as his fingers curl. There's little care given to how messy it all is. If anything, it just makes him like it even more. Wants to fuck you all over again, but knows his cock isn't up for it yet, even if he is.

There's a small shudder to your body; a little warning sign that Jeongguk is edging you closer and closer to coming undone. Just a little more and you'll be there.

He withdraws his fingers, and sinks his tongue to your entrance. Gathers his cum on his tongue, then spreads it all over your needy cunt. Lays claim to you in a way that no one ever has before. Spits. Flicks his tongue so rapidly against your clit it's hard to comprehend. Gets you shaking. Shuddering.

And then he's sucking, fingers plugging you once more. Your body writhes, and he holds you in place. Sucks harder. Fingers faster. Shakes his head, still sucking on your clit. Releases your with pop and then delves back in.

You whine his name, but it's obscured by the bass pumping through the speakers. All you can do is focus on him. How he feels. How much he wants you to feel good, and how well he succeeds at it.

The pressure builds like a star about to burst—and then stardust is scattering around you both, your orgasm disrupting the very atmosphere you're orbiting in.

Sparking through you, the sensation of your orgasm almost makes you fucking cry. Your body shakes. Jeongguk doesn't relent. Goes until you're spent, legs jolting, whimpers pathetic.

Overstimulated and overwhelmed, you encourage him up. Get his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth. The taste of his cum intertwined with yours only serves to make you whine even more.

The pair of you are spent and sticky, and somehow still desperate for another.

He's the one who eases up first. Pulls back. Presses kisses all over your face. Your neck. Your chest. Your lips once more. Whispers with a smirk, "You got jealous ."

"Didn't," you pout a little.

"Did," he grins, letting his body collapse on yours, 'cause there's no way he wants to go back down to the dancefloor. Not yet. "Jealous and possessive."

"Says you," you huff a little, stroking up and down his still-clothed back with the tips of your nails. Part of you wishes you were home, in bed, clothes tangled in a pile on the floor. It's okay, though. You know it's where you'll end up.

Head on your chest, Jeongguk holds your tits just 'cause he can. Gets one of your nipples in his mouth, again just 'cause he can. Sucks. Pulls back just to say, "Oh, yeah. I was. Fucking hate the idea of you with anyone else." His lips latch around your nipple again, until he takes a second to add, "I'm literally in love with you."

You're caught between laughing and moaning when his lips wrap around your other nipple. There's no reason for him to be toying with you in the way that he is. Both of you have finished. He's just doing it 'cause he likes it.

"You're in love with my tits," you brush off his declaration.

Shaking his head, nipple still in his mouth, he looks up at you. Poutily lets your nipple slip from his lips. Assures you, "I'm an ass guy," then presses your tits together to get both of your nipples in his mouth at the same time.

"You're an ass, full stop," you laugh. "Lucky I love you."

Now this does pull his attention away from your chest.

"Yeah?" He grins, repositioning himself so that his nose can nudge against yours. On top of you, his chain pools against your chin—and then his lips are sinking into yours, pretty kisses taking the place of needless declarations. You both know exactly how you feel about one another.

"Yeah," you nod into his kisses. "So much."

By the time you finish your mindless chatter in the form of aftercare, Jeongguk's phone has a low battery warning on the screen. Neither of you even wanna think about how long that damn video must be.

You set the world to rights; finish your drinks, and cosy up together just to indulge in a little more time alone—but the night is getting away from you. Your friends will be wondering where you are.

Glancing around to make sure you haven't forgotten anything, Jeongguk's face bunches up when he clocks the security camera he'd forgotten about in the corner of the booth. Nods, to drag your attention to it.

"Yeonjun's gonna have a field day with that one," you grimace.

"I'll delete it before he can," Jeongguk promises you.

Far more sober than you both were earlier, Jeongguk deposits you off with your friends when you get back down to the dancefloor. Ignores their questioning of where you've both been. Gives you a quick kiss before he goes to the bar.

Yeonjun's brows seem to be perpetually raised—but it's just 'cause his eyes caught the glimmer of the booth door being opened half an hour ago, and knows damn well exactly where Jeongguk has been.

The fact that Jeongguk's hair is pointing in all different directions only confirms exactly what Yeonjun thinks he must have been doing.

"Need to go into the office," Jeongguk tells Yeonjun, but is met with the shake of his head.

"No need," Yeonjun deadpans. Leans a little bit closer. Assures him, "Cameras are off. Your secrets are safe, boss."

Jeongguk wants to die. Not for the fun reasons he normally does, but for the sheer embarrassment of his junior almost reprimanding him.

He also doesn't trust the cerulean-haired fucker as far as he can throw him.

"I'm still gonna check."

"Fine. But you'll owe me 20,000."

"Huh?"

"It's a bet," Yeonjun says. "I bet you 20,000 that they're off."

If Jeongguk wasn't already convinced, he is now. Yeonjun hates losing these dumb bets.

Still, Jeongguk agrees.

Not even two minutes later, he's walking back by the bar, chewing on minty gum that's kept in the office for far more innocent purposes than this, dropping two 10,000 won notes down for Yeonjun.

"You're welcome!" Yeonjun shouts after Jeongguk with a smug grin. Shakes his head. Puts on the thick accent of an old man and mutters to himself, "Kids these days. Randy bastards. No decorum. No class. Just hormones and bad decisions."

But as Jeongguk is drawn to you in the crowd, like a stargazer is drawn to Polaris, he knows that for all the bad decisions he's ever made, there is one universal truth: No decision has ever been better than making you starfuckers on that very first night.

Arm looping over your shoulders, he presses a kiss to the side of your head. Steals Jimin's drink from him. Gags when he realises it's neat tequila. Offers it to you regardless. Apologises when you also gag.

The night is lost to Dionysus. Just like its namesake, the club is a cesspit of sin and debauchery, but it's impossible not to love the way it feels.

You don't leave until the final song of the night.

"My place or yours?" Jeongguk asks as you meander down the street together, a little behind the rest of your friends. With convenience store snacks in your hands, Jeongguk's phone dead in his back pocket and your clutch bag in his hands, the pair of you are the poster children of a reckless youth maturing into something far better.

Gone are the days of seeking out new strangers, or living for the weekends.

This is it, you think. An endless back and forth of his place, or yours, until one day it'll become obsolete.

So you indulge in what little you have left of the early days. "Yours."

"You know Jimin'll wanna watch The Notebook in the morning, right?" He reminds you with a smile. Is at such ease with his life. Isn't sure what he did to deserve it all.

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Choosing to walk the half an hour distance it takes to get back to Jeongguk's place, instead of opting for a taxi like the others to their respective homes, you and Jeongguk revel in the early hours of the morning. Talk nonsense. Talk business. Talk nonsense about business.

Time wasted with him is really not wasted at all. Even if the sun is coming up by the time you're entering his building, nodding at the doorman, neither of you are tired of one another. It's hard to imagine a reality where that would ever be true.

When you reach his apartment door, both of you stop in your tracks. It's still on the latch. Ajar. He glances over to you, brows furrowed. Steps in front of you, tucking you in behind him.

Says, "Keep quiet."

Slowly edging the door open, the entryway is a mess. Where a neat pile of shoes typically sits, clothes are strewn. It confuses him for a second—until he hears something that makes him dry heave.

He pushes the door fully open, and is met by Jimin cosplaying as his best Jeongguk impression, eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. His hands are over his crotch, naked and bare for all to see. Behind him, a half-naked girl darts to his room.

Both you and Jeongguk look at Jimin with equal parts shock and horror.

"At least close the bloody door!" Jeongguk almost shrieks.

"I thought you were going to DB's!"

"Well apparently not—wait," Jeongguk looks around the room. Recognises the clothes. So do you. Knows exactly who was wearing them earlier that evening. Gasps. Whisper-shouts, "Is that—"

"Shut up!" Jimin whisper-hisses back, and retreats backwards, hands still covering his modesty as if neither you nor Jeongguk have ever seen it before. "You didn't see shit!"

He escapes into his room, and you do hear his lock go, just to be safe.

Both you and Jeongguk look at each other in a state of shock. It's only broken when you say, "Well I guess he won't be watching The Notebook tomorrow."

But Jeongguk shakes his head. Nods towards the deep navy dress that's crumpled on the floor beside Jimin's shirt. The same dress Nabi had been in earlier that evening. Says, "It's her favourite film. She's the reason he watches it."

And on the counter, rests a flyer from the gallery event. It's folded into the shape of a butterfly.

Looks like the ones Jeongguk always attributed to Hayun.

It's only now that he realises he'd been wrong this whole time.

Just like Jimin watched The Notebook 'cause the girl he could never seem to get over loved it, Hayun made paper butterflies, 'cause her best friend taught her how to make them. Said it'd be a good little party trick to make boys fall in love with her.

And it had been—but it had also just been an entirely fabricated part of her personality. The irony of it all isn't lost on Jeongguk. All he can do is laugh. It confirms everything he already knew: he never understood love until you came along.

"What is it with us and walking in our housemates shagging?" You laugh as you kick off your shoes, unaware of Jeongguk's realisation. Sure he'd told you about Hayun's butterflies before you made your first birds, but it was so long ago that it's a distant memory, now.

"No idea," Jeongguk grins as he follows suit. Holds your hand as you head towards his bathroom. Forgets to grab his towels, but doesn't care even when he remembers. Will risk the naked dash across his apartment later. All he wants is to be with you right now. "We're not far off, though. Yoongi practically caught us at it earlier."

You hum as Jeongguk starts the shower, checking yourself over in the mirror as you discard your dress. The hickies bestowed upon you are ridiculous. The teasing from your friends will be relentless.

"Maybe we should stop being so reckless," you suppose with a glint in your eyes that Jeongguk catches as he turns to study you in the mirror. Slipping your dress off, you keep your eyes on him.

"Where's the fun in that?" He grins, coming to stand behind you. Dipping his lips to the base of your neck, his hands hold your hips. His kisses are gentle. Sleepy.

"So you want to get caught?"

"Never said that," he mumbles. "But I do want everyone to know you're mine, so if that's what it takes..."

"A ring would do the job just fine," you tell him without much thought. "Far less embarrassing, too."

Jeongguk rests his pointy chin on your shoulder. Looks at you in the mirror. "A ring?"

It's only now that you realise the gravity of what you've said. You're tired and your brain isn't really functioning right and oh god—you've barely even been dating for five minutes. It's too soon for any of that.

"Well I've already got a necklace," you try and downplay it, reaching up to touch the silver bird that sits between your collarbones. "Earrings work, too."

Jeongguk smirks. Stands. Rids himself of clothes, and walks to the shower. Tests the temperature of the water. Nonchalantly says, "Always thought you hated the idea of marriage."

"It's archaic," you casually reply, unclasping your bra, and letting it drop to the floor. Jeongguk's eyes are all over you. There's nothing about you he doesn't adore—your need to bicker with him included. "The tax benefits are nice, though."

He nods as you discard your underwear. Says, "I'd make you sign a prenup. Wouldn't want you stealing all my sculptures in the divorce."

" Action figures ," you correct him, joining him in the shower. He doesn't get a chance to argue back, for you're on your tippy toes and pressing a kiss against his lips to remedy the insult you know he's about to feign. "And you're already planning the divorce? That's not very promising. May as well not get married."

He shrugs. "Just making sure I have my ducks in a row before I commit to anything."

"Virgo," you accusingly tease, narrowing your eyes with a terribly hidden smile.

"What was it you said about Virgos?" He teases right back. "That we're written in the stars?"

You can bicker and you can argue all you like—but when Jeongguk has you in his sheets a little while later, curled up against his chest, softly settling into sleep like stardust into the atmosphere, he knows it must be true.

"Sweet dreams, B," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You mumble a response, half asleep already. Let him do as he pleases as he pulls your hand up to his lips. Barely register it when a tender kiss is pressed to your empty ring finger.

"Obsessed," you murmur against his chest—but also delicately press a kiss right where you know his heart is.

He just nods. Yawns. "Obsessed."

[bookshopsbizarreblog]

Can we talk about how good the Moon Mining song in Midst S3E14 - Shindig is? Like, I've heard lots of songs across the various podcasts I've listened to, some of them quite good. But I have yet to encounter one that was situated in the story as masterfully as the Moon Mining song, or that conveys a fraction of the emotionality. Even without getting into story spoilers, the (at least seemingly) improvised nature of each verse, the layering of shouts and cheers and merry heckling to create a whole crowd leaning into it, the way each character expresses themself and their situation (and is expressed to us as the audience), and even just the way the song is introduced paint such a vibrant and lively setting. The entire 5-ish minutes just radiates a community coming together and having fun.

S2E4 - Weather used to be my favorite episode, as someone who has a deep love of cosmic horror and general eldritch shenans, but I've gone back to Shindig at least seven or eight times just to listen and relisten to that single song. I can't imagine not getting swept up in the revelry, and its position within the episode (and season overall) just sells it so much harder. More concrete spoilers beneath the cut.

If you haven't listened to Midst, please do. Gracious goodness, it's so good.

The entire episode is a rollercoaster of highs and lows for these characters and the community of Stationary Hill that we've gotten to love at this point. Sherman and Tzila finally arrive home, to celebration and joy. The community is barely recognizable but we've seen them band together and rebuild. And at a pinnacle of tension, after the gut punches of Hieronymus' confession to Saskia and the Vault demolition plan and Weepe's victory over Kozma, we finally get a brief break. But even that break is tainted with uncertainty and pain. Right before the song begins, we get Emmet's toast to the fallen, Sherman's uncertainty and fear of staying in Stationary Hill, all the festivities and merriment tinged bittersweet. And then the catharsis hits. It's not announced as a song. It's not a side bar where the ambiance cuts away so a tune can be inserted above the story. All we know is that Goe is getting on stage, and the narrators are saying we're missing something, but what? "That's right." "It wouldn't be a party on Midst without-" "Goe: It's time, you dang raskals!"

It's like the podcast version of show, don't tell. They could have laid out that a song was coming up. They could have even just launched into it. But by merely having uncertain build up and sudden increasing excitement and anticipation from the crowd, we get dragged along with it too. Straight from all the emotions of the previous conversations into this building energy with no clear outlet. It isn't until the cheers and diegetic voices demand "that friggin' moon tune," now that we are also fully on board, that the end point is revealed. And then it slaps.

The different methods of singing for each person, of which Saskia and Ettie (x2) and Ned (whose voice makes me understand the random background lady) stand out the most. Bets and Walter's and Tzila all representing different versions of how a kid would approach being asked to sing in front of their entire community. Sylvester and the chanting and everyone joining in on the chorus and the way each person's verse is a snippet of their life and perspective and situation and story without it being overbearing. It just. The whole thing. It screams of the close-knit Stationary Hill community, which then also pays off in another big way during the last episode.

I highly recommend listening to the song again, with headphones and the volume cranked up to get the full experience if you haven't already. I'm losing my mind over this song. If tumblr woulda let me, I would have just uploaded the full 5:19 clip I isolated, but unfortunately it wound up being too big to post. So here's the link to the time where the song specifically starts.

Thank you so much Third Person ( @midstpodcast ) for creating such a full and magical world.

[queenstarlight2]

Hello! Im not sure if you're still accepting requests but I've got a story in my heart that I'd love to be brought to life. It's based around Thranduil x Reader. The reader is a human who has a positive history with the Mirkwood elves. She and Thranduil have become especially close over time as she isn't afraid to stand up to him when needed. They have deep, unspoken yet obvious feelings for each other that they have never acted upon as she understands his position as the King of the Elves and he knows that his time with her would be limited being a mortal. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how limited that time will be being that she is human and susceptible to human illness. She discovers that she has terminal cancer that Elven magic cannot cure. She chooses to not tell Thranduil as he has his kingdom to focus on. One day, he realises that he has not seen her about for a day or two and asks after her. No one can remember seeing her either so he goes to her chambers himself to check on her only to find her unresponsive (either in her bed or on the floor). That's a whole lot of detail Ive just given so you're welcome to take it in any direction you wish should you choose to take this idea on <3

(thanks anon for a reason to destroy people's hearts. this is my first time doing some bittersweet angst. I loved it)

Spoke to late(2k)

The halls of the Elvenking were filled with a sense of quiet unease, a feeling of something not quite right that hung heavy in the air. Thranduil, the regal ruler of the Woodland Realm, frowned as he moved through the corridors, his sharp eyes taking in every detail.

It had been days since he had seen her - the human woman who had captured his heart with her courage and spirit. He had noticed her absence from the usual routines and social gatherings, but he had been wrapped up in the affairs of state, unable not to give it much thought. Yet, now, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind had grown incessant, tugging at his attention with the force of a restless spirit. He had tried to ignore it, to push it aside, telling himself that she was no doubt busy with her matters. But the feeling had persisted, gnawing at his usually calm composure. Thranduil's frown deepened as he continued through the palace, the sense of unease only deepening. The halls seemed quieter, less alive as if a vital presence was missing. He found himself looking at familiar corners and passages, expecting to see her there, her laughter echoing through the corridors, her eyes sparkling with wit.

But she was nowhere to be found. He tried to tell himself it was nothing. She was merely occupied with something. Yet, his heart knew it was something more ominous. His steps slowed as he approached the wing where her chambers were situated. There was no bustle, no activity. It was as if the place was holding its breath. He quickened his pace, the unease now a tangible thing, tightening around his chest.

He came to the door of her room and pushed it open without a knock. The room was dim, the curtains drawn, a stark contrast to the usually airy and lit space it was. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, a cold claw of fear now gripping his insides. Her presence lingered in the air, a faint scent of her favorite flowers, a hint of her perfume. He saw her things, her clothing, her hairbrush, the trinkets she kept on her dresser, all as they were. Yet, she was not there. The bed was made, untouched, the blankets undisturbed.

Thranduil's heart now pounded in his chest, the fear a full-blown beast he could no longer ignore. He moved to the sitting room, searching every nook and cranny, his eyes wild now, his mind racing with grim possibilities.

There was no trace of her, no sign of a struggle, no indication of where she could have gone. He began to doubt his sanity; perhaps he had exaggerated her absence, perhaps he had missed her somehow. But his heart, the part of him that was attuned to her, screamed that she was nowhere to be found.

Thranduil's search led him now to the bathroom, his heart in his throat. He pushed open the door, his eyes scanning the small space. There, on the floor, he saw her - a pale figure, crumpled like a discarded doll.

For a moment, he froze, a raw, primal fear tearing through him. Then, he was at her side, dropping to his knees, his hands trembling as he gently turned her over. Her face was pale, her eyelids fluttering slightly. A cold sweat beaded on her forehead. She was alive, but… but not well. Thranduil's mind whirled, panic and dread vying for attention. He pulled her into his lap, his hands running over her body, searching, hoping…

Thranduil gathered her in his arms, his heart thudding against his chest, his mind awhirl with fear and disbelief. He cradled her like a delicate treasure, a small, unconscious part of him noticing how slight, how light she was.

His steps were quick and strong as he hastened out of the room and towards the Healing Halls, her body limp and pale in his arms.

The palace was a blur around him as he ran, his only thought was to get her help, to get aid for her, to save her. The guards and attendants they passed watched in surprise, their questions dying on their lips as they took in the sight of their king, his eyes wild, his expression a mask of fear and determination, carrying the unconscious woman in his arms.

The Healing Halls were a flurry of activity as Thranduil burst in, the healers halting in their tasks, their surprise quickly replaced by a keen professionalism as they saw the woman in his arms. Thranduil laid her gently on one of the beds, stepping back as the healers surrounded her, their hands moving quickly and precisely, their voices low and swift as they began to assess her condition.

Thranduil stood back, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as the healers worked over her. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his fear giving way to a strange, hollow acceptance. He knew, deep within the core of his being, that this was the end, that he was going to lose her. Yet, he held onto a desperate, foolish hope that the healers would find a way to help, that they would find a cure, that she would wake up and smile at him once again.

The tension in the room was palpable, the sounds of the healers' voices and the soft rustle of their movements the only sounds in the heavy silence. Thranduil's eyes never left her, his gaze tracing the lines and planes of her face, the flutter of her eyelids, the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

Slowly, the healers began to step back, their expressions grim, their eyes filled with a sorrow that told Thranduil everything he needed to know. One of them, a healer he knew well and trusted, came to his side, laying a sympathetic hand on his arm.

"My king," she murmured, her voice soft, filled with regret, "we have done all we can. Her condition is… terminal. Her body is failing."

Thranduil's throat worked, his eyes stinging as he looked down at her. She was so still, so pale, a memory of the vibrant, fiery woman he had known. He reached out, his fingers trembling as he touched her cheek, as if he could, by the force of his will, bring her back to life.

"How long?" he asked, his voice guttural, the words tearing from him like a wound.

The healer bowed her head, a mixture of sympathy and sadness in her eyes. "It is difficult to say exactly," she said quietly. "She is weak, her body is failing. I cannot tell you for how long she will hold on, but I can say it will not be long."

The healers exchanged glances, their faces somber. Understanding the unspoken request, they nodded respectfully and slowly left the room, closing the door behind them, and leaving Thranduil and the woman alone.

The room was suddenly quiet, the silence heavy, only broken by the soft sound of the woman's shallow breathing, and the hum of the soft, dim lanterns. Thranduil moved back to her side, his eyes never leaving her face.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

I felt my eyes flutter open, my vision hazy and unclear. Everything felt off as if I was dreaming. Then, I saw his face, his sharp features softened with emotion. “Thranduil…” I managed to murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, my throat dry and painful.

His eyes widened, and a range of emotions flashed across his face – surprise, shock, fear, and above all, relief. He leaned closer, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair away from my eyes. “You’re awake,” he murmured, the words filled with wonder and something deeper that I couldn’t quite place.

I tried to sit up, my body weak, every muscle protesting. He gently eased me back down, his hands strong and yet gentle, as if handling a fragile artifact.

“Rest,” he whispered, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. “You’re weak. Don’t overexert yourself.”

His fingers traced the lines of my face, his touch light as if he was trying to memorize every feature, every contour. I could feel the tension in his body, the fear that was trying to claw its way to the surface. Thranduil’s fingers continued their light, almost reverent touch, tracing each curve and line of my face as if he was trying to burn the sight of me into his memory. For a moment, he was silent, his eyes locked on mine, a maelstrom of emotions swirling in their depths. Then, he inhaled deeply, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I… I need to tell you something… something I should have told you long ago.”

He looked down, his hand resting against my cheek, his thumb tracing slow, gentle circles. There was a tension in his body, a vulnerability evident in his eyes that I had rarely seen before. When he looked back at me, his expression was open, his usual cool composure almost shattered.

“I… I love you,” he murmured, the words coming out in a rush as if he couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I’ve loved you for longer than I care to admit”

My heart gave a painful lurch, a strange mixture of joy and sorrow swirling within me. I reached up, my hand shaking, to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into my touch, the lines of his face tightening as if he was trying not to let himself break.

I took a shaky breath, my grip tightening on his wrist, my eyes searching his. “We may not have much time,” I said quietly, my voice laced with raw, aching honesty. “I’ve always known that… that my time with you would be limited. We never spoke about it, but we both knew.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of my unspoken secret now too heavy to bear alone. “There’s something else,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t want to burden you with it, but… I have cancer. I’ve known for a while now.”

His eyes widened in shock, his body going eerily still, his fingers tightening against my skin. “You… you’ve known this whole time?” he asked, his voice hoarse, a mixture of disbelief and something that sounded almost like anger in his tone.

I nodded, my eyes still closed against the sudden rush of tears. “I didn’t want to worry you, didn’t want to put more on your plate than you already have to carry,” I murmured, my voice shaky with emotion. “You’re the king… you have a kingdom to oversee…”

He swore a sharp exhale that sounded like a pained gasp. When I opened my eyes and looked up at him, I saw a storm of emotion in their depths – anger, fear, pain, and above all, a deep, aching love.

“You should have told me,” he said, his voice tight, his eyes locked on mine. “I had a right to know. I… I would have –” He couldn’t finish the sentence, his voice cracking, his jaw clenching as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

His fingers left my cheek and threaded into my hair, his touch now more insistent. He leaned down, his breath warm against my skin as he murmured, “You should have told me.” Then, he captured my lips in a kiss. It was a fierce, desperate kiss, filled with all the words he couldn’t say, all the emotions he couldn’t express.

The kiss broke slowly, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other. My eyelids were heavy, my body weak, and I let out a soft exhale, exhaustion pulling on my consciousness. “I’m… I’m so tired,” I murmured, my voice a weary whisper.

Thranduil pulled back, his eyes locked on my face, his expression a mixture of worry and tender concern. “Rest,” he whispered once again, his hand running through my hair in soothing motions. “You’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me, my body relaxing into the softness of the bed. Thranduil didn’t let go of my hand, his thumb tracing slow, gentle circles on the back of it, his gaze never leaving my face.

The room was quiet, the only sound was the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth and the hum of the soft, simmering lanterns. Thranduil sat by my bedside, my hand still in his, his eyes fixed on my face, his expression a war of emotions – grief, love, regret, and above all, a deep, aching sadness. Slowly, silently, my breath grew shallow and labored, and then… stopped.

Thranduil’s eyes widened, his whole body going eerily still as he realized what had just happened. His fingers tightened on my hand, the reality of it all crashing down on him like a wave.

“No,” he whispered, his voice rough, hoarse with grief. “No, no, no…”

[1-800-kami]

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK .. feat. gojo satoru

.. two star-crossed lovers who make an oath to love each other like they’ve never loved before in their next life.

content: 1.8k words, fem!reader, angst (with a little comfort), first half takes place during chapter 236, (so MAJOR manga spoilers ahead) character death, reincarnation au, gojo is a future lawyer, VERY bittersweet

author's note: it's been a minute since i've last uploaded a fic lmao </3 i've mainly been doing smau's (because they're very fun to do and take less effort) but here's a short gojo fic that's been resting in my drafts for a while. it's a reincarnation au that i wrote while listening to slow dancing in the dark..so enjoy! -kami <3

interact and reblog for a kiss ;)

it’s cold on the battlefield.

the wind nips at your skin until it feels like you’re about to freeze over. you feel the coldness seeping into your skin—entering and traveling up your veins until it eventually reaches your already ice-cold heart. 

the scene in front of you feels all too familiar. you’ve seen it a thousand times over in the past–the image plaguing your sleep, turning what’s supposed to be a time to rest into a time of nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat. your lover, gojo satoru, is on the ground, eyes on the precipice of losing its shine. and there’s red, fuck–there’s so much red. a pool of red lies underneath gojo and it’s all you can see.

usually, at this point, you’d wake up, mind all over the place and heart racing. satoru… where’s satoru? you’d panic, feeling the covers for your lover and exhaling a sigh of relief when you find him curled up next to you. 

he’d always get up after you, knowing that you’d experience the occasional nightmare of him leaving you. satoru understands this very well. he has nightmares of you leaving him too. he’d make sure to hug your shaking, crying form until your sobs eventually ceased. “i’m right here, love. i’m not going anywhere. i’m the strongest, you know? you should have more faith in me.”

wake up. y/n. this isn’t real, right? wake up. you pinch your skin and dig your nails into your palms, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. except, you don’t wake up, and with the newly made marks etched on your skin lighting your nerves on fire, you realize this isn’t a dream. this time, gojo’s not there to ease your worries and reassure you that he’s alive–that he’s never going to leave your side.

with that realization, you feel yourself moving again. you scream satoru’s name with a voice plagued with nothing but agony and despair. you run over to his side, panic filling your senses when you feel his body and get all the red on your hands. red. it’s never had a negative connotation to you before. there was red on the roses that satoru had given you on valentines day. red on the heart-shaped gold necklace he’d gifted you on your anniversary (that you’ve never taken off since). red on the box of chocolates that he’d given to you on an ordinary day. “what? does there have to be a special occasion to show my girlfriend how much i love her?”

now, your perception of the color red has been tainted for the rest of your life. it’s the only thing you can see, and you want to close your eyes forever just so you don’t have to see that crimson shade ever again. “satoru, you said you’d never leave... you lied to me!”

he coughs weakly, using all his remaining strength to weakly take your hands in his. there’s a small smile on his face, and his peaceful expression only makes you sob harder. an expression that shows that he’s accepted his fate. “gosh, i’m getting your clothes all dirty. i’m sorry, princess…”

“can you promise me something, though? before i’m gone…” he whispers, and you nod your head, ready to do anything for him. “promise me we’ll meet again, okay?”

that catches you off guard. “w…what do you mean?”

“we’ll meet again, in another life, and i’ll love you all over again.” he smiles cheekily, and you hold his hand a little tighter, sobs racking your core and making your entire body shake. “have you ever imagined living a normal life? a life where sorcerers and curses are all alien words, and i’m not “the strongest”?…a life where i’m just like everyone else, and i get to marry you because no shitty higher-ups are holding me back anymore. god, i think about that all the time. i’ve realized that i’d like that version of life with you more than anything.”

you think that everyone in the jujutsu society has had that thought at least once. sometimes, the idea of being an ignorant civilian unknowingly living in a world filled with curses and despair seemed preferable. and yet, you’ve chosen to be a sorcerer, and perhaps this is the worst part to it. constantly losing the ones you’ve held closest to your heart–all to protect a group of people who aren’t even remotely aware of the sacrifices that sorcerers have made so that they can live a normal life. 

“i’ve always wanted that too, s’toru.” you whisper, in fear of your voice breaking if you speak too loudly. “yeah… a regular life without curses. what do you think it’ll be like?”

“hm… let me think. i’ve always wanted to be a dad, y’know?” satoru teases, and the two of you are lost in your own world as you both envision a life where you can be together without any repercussions. “megumi doesn’t count, cause ‘m not his biological dad. i want a little me running around in a house that we’ve worked so hard to buy. and who knows? maybe we’ll have more kids. maybe one or two more-”

“three kids?! that’s a lot, satoru.” you say in mock surprise, though you can’t expect less from your boyfriend. “hey.. does that mean we’ll get married?”

“of course, sweetheart. you’re the only love i’ve ever known. ‘m sorry i have to leave you like this. but i’ll come back for you in our next life, okay?” he hisses as he uses all his strength to grip your shaky hands a little tighter. you can tell his adrenaline’s wearing off, but you’re not ready to let go.

i’ll come back for you in our next life.

every second you’ll spend waiting for satoru seems like an eternity.  “i’ll propose to you with a beautiful ring ‘nd you’ll be…”

he coughs up a little bit of blood, voice hoarse and barely holding on. yet, gojo persists on using whatever strength he has to talk to you.

“you’ll be y/n gojo. i like the sound of that…” he whispers, and both of you know that his time has run out. the red on your skin is beginning to dry, and it feels like it’s tainted you forever. “i love you, princess.”

“i love you too, satoru. i’ll see you soon.” gojo’s grip on your hands loosen. you whisper his name again, looking for a response, but you’re only met with silence. he’s left you alone just like how everyone else has left you. nanami, geto, haibara, and now satoru.

you don’t scream or sob once you realize that satoru’s gone. in fact, your tears have ceased, but it's instead replaced with this empty feeling—like a hollow hole in your chest that can’t be filled with anything to make you feel whole again.

the battlefield is cold, but gojo’s limp body feels colder.

gojo satoru is twenty-two years old. he’s a slightly above-average man (both figuratively and literally) standing at six foot three, boasting looks that’ll make anyone fawn over him. it took him almost two years to decide on a major, but after trying a little bit of everything (and falling asleep during every business class that he took with his friend nanami) satoru settled on choosing a political science major to become a lawyer.

despite having looks that grant him the ability to get any girl that he wants, satoru’s spent his whole life looking for a girl that he’s never even met before.

he remembers everything–and every part about you. sometimes, he thinks that all the memories he’s spent with you were just some sort of dream, and yet, they seemed so vivid. sometimes, satoru chastises himself, a part of him wanting to just move on from you because he doesn’t even know if you actually exist–and yet, he’s been trying his entire life to find you because his memories told him that “he promised he would”.

were they memories or were they dreams? he doesn’t know what to think anymore.

but then, gojo satoru finally gets his questions answered one spring afternoon.

he passes by a cute bakery while walking home from school, and feels his taste buds waking up as he stares at all the mouth-watering sweets displayed behind the store’s glass. the bakery has a wide variety of baked goods, as well as coffee. satoru’s so busy looking at the menu that the second he looks at the cashier, he feels his entire world stop.

it’s you.

and at that moment, satoru could feel all the memories flooding back in. no, they weren’t dreams. they were memories. satoru has lived a completely different life before this one, and this was a new life, a second life that was granted to satoru from whatever deity there was out there. all he ever wanted was to live a normal life without being renowned as “the strongest”, and most importantly, he wanted to live a normal life with you in the epicenter of it. 

you. his entire world. his lifeline.

and now, you’re right in front of him, and satoru feels like he’s sixteen all over again–the year that you met him when you transferred into jujutsu high. the year you turned his entire world upside down. the year you–as well as his other friends, taught him how to live for a moment without caring about the overbearing pressure of expectation that was ever-present on his shoulders.

a glimmer of gold on your neck catches satoru’s eye.

it was the heart-shaped gold necklace that he’d given to you on your anniversary. the heart itself was crystallized red, and when you asked gojo to clasp it around your neck, you’ve always kept it on you.

he wonders if you ever took it off after he died.

“y/n?” the whisper almost felt pathetic with how much emotion he poured into it. you look up from your phone and finally meet his gaze for the first time in years.

two star-crossed lovers who made an oath to love each other like they’ve never loved before in their next life. the two of you have finally crossed paths again–but wait, there’s something terribly wrong.

“y/n? yeah… that’s my name.” you say, looking at your name tag that was pinned onto your apron. a look of confusion is etched onto your face–the man in front of you is looking at you with so much familiarity that you feel the need to know who he is. silvery white hair, cerulean blue eyes. his appearance makes him stand out so much that you would’ve definitely known who he was. you awkwardly adjust your name tag, unable to find any words to say other than:

“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”

[heartfeltcierra]

Donquixote Doflamingo X Female Reader NSFW "Daydreams of Dressrosa"

Anon-I noticed you have a request box. I just wanted to say your writing is 🤌🏻 *chefs kiss*. I wanted to request something angsty and maybe even smutty with Doflamingo. I’ll let you decided if it end fluffy or not. I knows he is problematic and controversial as hell (I can fix him) But if you don’t write for him I completely understand! Thank you and have a amazing day my beloved heartfelt!

AN-So I totally took this and ran with it lmao. I just recently finished the Dressrosa Arc and I find Doflamingo to be a interesting character. This was a welcomed challenge for me. I've never written for a villian before and It's been a hot take since I've written smut. With that being said it's also the dirtiest thing I've ever written. I ran laps around my house just writing this. But thank you for reading my work and I hope you enjoy this my beloved anon :)

Masterlist

Side note- As always this story is plus sized reader friendly!

Word Count- 7.5k

*Any thing in italics is readers thoughts or a flashback. *

!Trigger warning! The relationship between Reader and Doflamingo is extremely toxic with emotionally abusive undertones, please never let anyone treat you like this.

~NSFW Warnings/Content~ Dom Doffy/Sub reader, PWP, Pre established situationship, A tiny speck of pet play, Doffy misuses his devil fruit powers (Spoiler alert he makes a clone.) Humiliation, Name calling (Slut, whore etc) , Reader is slapped once, Spanking, Degradation, Oral Sex (Fem giving and receiving) Fingering, Implied squirting and use of reward system. I tried to stay true to Doflamingo's character, but he may be OOC in some parts!

   From the moment you woke up to a quiet and peaceful palace, you immediately knew something was up. You asked one of the guards where everyone was and much to your surprise Doflamingo and the top executives have gone out to a meeting. And according to him,  they won’t be back until dark. It’s very rare for all of them to be gone at the same time, but you're thankful. It’s been a long time since you've had any alone time, so you were going to make every moment count. 

  You’re currently in the courtyard pool floating around on the huge blow up flamingo Doffy bought a while back. No one ever uses it considering most of the family have devil fruit abilities and aren’t willing to risk falling into the water. So you’ve laid claim to the giant pink float. You’ve even given it the nickname “Mini Master.” 

 “Now let’s get down to the real fun.” You smirk before pulling out a book from your favorite romance series called “Daydreams of Dressrosa: a collection of love stories from the kingdom of passion”. You read them in secrecy. The only other person who knows is Baby 5, her being the one who sneaks them to you. You knew if Doffy found out about them, he’d probably be pissed, saying something to the extent of “What can a book offer you that I can’t?” And the answer to that was simple. Romance and love. The two things he would never be able to offer you. It’s sad, but nonetheless true. 

 You open the book and turn to where you left off on story #17 titled “Carnivals and Carnations”. The couple in the story are going to a carnival as a first date. The story was super cheesy, but you're living for it. You squeal when the guy puts his jacket around the girl's shoulders because she is cold. It’s funny how something so simple causes your heart to swoon.  But your favorite part so far was him winning her a stuffed bear from one of the game stalls. You can’t help but think of Doffy doing something like that for you, no doubt you’d walk away with every stuffed animal and trinket you wanted. But how Doffy would win them is the part you find funny. He’d probably use his devil fruit ability to ‘Win’ (Cheat)  or he’d scare the person running the stall until they gave up everything. It brought a bittersweet smile to your face. The poor hopeless romantic in you still hasn’t accepted her fate. Once you got stringed in with Doflamingo, any chance of you experiencing sweet and innocent love was thrown to the wind. 

 You can’t help but be jealous of the girl in the story. When you were a teenager you dreamed about finding a man who would love you and treat you like a princess. Now here you are as an adult and plaything to a criminal. You knew he was bad, you knew he had done horrible things. But something about him lured you in. Tears trickle down your face and onto the pages below. You yearn for the impossible from him. But it’s Doffy, and he will do whatever he wants, when he wants and without even thinking about anyone else. You know this better than anyone. 

 ~Flashback~

 “Doffy, can I ask you a question?” You pulled your sore and sweaty body from the bed. Doflamingo was in the middle of putting his shirt back on,but stopped when he heard your hoarse voice call out.

 “Well would you look at that.” Doffy seemed to be amused, smirking at your trembling form. “My little girl didn’t pass out after all. I was almost certain you would, considering how hard I was on you.” You were on the brink of passing out from his rough treatment, but you clung to consciousness. “For that I’ll answer your question. Go on.” 

 “Well I guess it may be more of a favor, but.” Your mind and heart raced even more than it did earlier. All because of what you're about to ask him. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after? I know you're busy and I won’t take up much of your time, just a few minutes I promise!” You watched Doffy’s smirk disappear, replaced by one of  his more disapproving looks, causing your heart to drop.

 “You want me to shower with you and stick around for “cuddles”?” You muster the strength to  nod at the man. His lips curled into a wicked smile before he laughed in your face.  “What a joke. Do you think I have time for something so stupid? Never ask for something like that again. Got it?” You couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down your face at his cruel words. His large hand reached out and grabbed your face, giving you no choice but to look at him. “Speak girl.”

 “Yes. I- I’m sorry Doffy.” Your cringe at how your words struggled to come out through the small sobs. Times like that reminded you how cruel Doflamingo was. Your heart shattered into a million pieces. 

 “Good.” He released your face and without another word, walked out of the room as if nothing happened. To him it probably was nothing. Your body fell against the bed as a few remaining tears slid down your face. Your hands snaked around one of the spare pillows on the bed, in search of the comfort you so desperately needed that night.

~Flashback end~

 It had been weeks since that night and not once has Doffy come to your room for a “session”. The more you think about it, the more uneasy you become. It’s unlike him to go that long without sex. Maybe he’s getting bored with you or maybe he’s getting it from someone else. Both of those thoughts stung. At the end of the day, you're just another woman at his disposal.

 You look into the sky and see the colors changing with the sunset. You didn’t have much time left before the family would return. A small sigh leaves your lips as you open your book again. Now where was I? The couple were now riding on a ferris wheel.  The man wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders, causing her to scooch closer to him. The ferris wheel came to a halt, leaving them at the very top. They admired all the lights and the way the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Their eyes locked onto each other. You can’t help but giggle knowing what’s about to happen. The man gently cupped her cheek as he slowly moved his lips towards her. Her eyes closed as his lips barely ghosted over hers. A small tug on the float causes you to close your book. Before you had a chance to investigate the cause, the float was pulled out from under you. Your body tumbles into the cold water alongside your book.

 “Fufufu~.” You hear Doffy’s muffled laugh as you swim back up to the surface. You cough up a little water you inhaled as Doffy continued to laugh. Judging from the way his fingers were bent, he was the one who knocked the float over. “Did the mouse have fun while the cat was away?” Your eyes roll at his snarky comment. You want to splash water on the cocky warlord, but you also want to live long enough to finish your book. Wait, the book! You frantically swim around the pool until you notice it sitting at the bottom of the pool. You take a deep breath in before diving to get it. You emerge once again holding the soaked book.

 “Well the “mouse” was having a fine day, until you destroyed its book.” You hold the book up and watch as the pool water drips from the pages. “And I was getting to the good part too.” You mumble the last part. 

 “Good part?” A wild smirk forms on Doffy’s face. With a flick of his left index finger the book was snatched from your hands and right into his. “What page was this “good part on”?” You watch as he skims through the book. 

 “112.” You swim over the edge of the pool and watch him read the page. For a man like Doflamingo, the scene will be underwhelming and quite boring. For a moment you think he was getting interested in the words, but it was short lived.  With a wet smack he closes the book and tosses it to the ground. You frown knowing the book will be unreadable by time the water sets in and blurs the words. I guess I’ll never know how it ends….

 “So that’s your definition of a good part?” You gave the man who was now towering over you a small nod. “When did my little slut become so vanilla?” Heat rises to your cheeks despite the cold temperature of the water around you.

 “I just thought it was cute. That’s all.” You let your body sink into the water in an attempt to avoid his gaze but your body stills. 

 “Trying to run away are we? Do I need to put you in your place Y/N?” You feel his strings loop underneath your arms. His left and right index fingers lift up causing your body to come out of the water in one motion. A shocked gasp leaves your lips as you fly out of the pool water and into the cold evening air. You sometimes forget that no matter how big you are, Doffy can and will treat you like a rag doll. You land rather ungracefully in front of the Blonde. Goosebumps rise onto your wet skin, but you're unsure if it’s from the cold air on your wet body or from the aura radiating off the man above you. 

 You peer into Doffy’s sunglasses and see your shivering body looking back. Your arms cross in front of your body in a sad attempt to warm up. You expect to see a sadistic smirk on his face, but you're met with an expression you’ve never seen on him. It makes you a little anxious not knowing what he’s thinking about or feeling. It dawns on you that he knows you read romance novels now, meaning he was most likely not very happy with you at the moment. 

 “I’m sorry If I upset you, Doffy. I promise I won’t read books like that anymore.” You try to diffuse the situation but it’s too late. His hand raises into the air. A sense of fear washes over you, causing your body to tremble even more. You feel a rush of wind in front of your face causing your eyes to slam shut. You tensed up preparing for the impact.. But it never came, instead the smell of his expensive cologne invades your nostrils as warmth engulfs your body. You let your eyes flutter open to see that he placed his pink feather jacket around your frame. It takes a while for your brain to process it. The cold, unloving and emotionally unavailable Donquixote         Doflamingo did something…. nice?   

 “Thank you young master.” He never lets anyone wear his jacket, NEVER. You wrap the jacket around your body more to enjoy its warmth. 

 “I was getting annoyed watching you shake like a pathetic little leaf.” He retorted with a scowl. “Now. Why don't I show you what a 'good part’ is supposed to be like.”  He points a finger at your neck, causing a string to connect to your flesh like a leash. He gives the string a firm tug, sending you to the ground on your knees in front of him. “Spread.” His commanding voice sends excitement through your veins.

 “Yes sir.” You move your knees apart as far as you can. The course ground below dug into your knees, but you didn’t care. As bad as you hate to admit to yourself, you’ve missed this and you’ve missed him. 

 “Good, now look at me.” You crane your head back in order to look up at him. Your body feels like it is shrinking as the10 ft tall man looms over you. Your mind goes blank when you feel the pointed tip of his shoe moving up and down your swimsuit covered pussy. “I’m going to cut you a deal so listen up.” His shoe puts extra pressure on your clit, causing a moan to escape your lips. “If you can be a good girl and do everything I say without question, I will give you a reward.” His foot retracts much to your dismay. But the mention of a reward entices you.

 “I will, I promise sir!” And just like that, you submit yourself to him. 

 “You will or else.” Doffy began to walk away leaving you to crawl behind him. You're thankful the steps he took were a lot smaller than normal, otherwise you’d have a hard time keeping up. It dawned on you how embarrassing the situation was. Here you are crawling around on all fours with Doffy’s jacket on. I probably look like a poodle. 

  You got lucky and didn’t run into any family members while Doffy paraded you around like the loyal lap dog you are. A couple of guards saw you, but they didn’t dare to say a word knowing Doflamingo would kill them on the spot. The door to your room was finally on site, but he walked past it. Your bedroom is the only place he agreed to do the deed in. It gave him the freedom to come and go as he pleased. You know better than to question him, but you're still curious as to where he’s taking you.

 “You’ll find out soon enough.” Doffy answers as if he read your mind. Much to your surprise you find yourself in front of the door to his room. In the time you’ve been with him, not once have you seen the inside of his bedroom. “Stand up.” The string on your neck beckons you to your feet. You wince as you stand up, knees throbbing due to all the crawling you’ve done.

 Doffy slings the door open and leads you in. The door clicks shut and the sound of the lock being turned echoes in the bedroom. His room was so big it made yours look like a mere closet. Your eyes land on the double king bed in the middle of the room. As you look at it, the only word that comes to mind is sin.  A blood red canopy surrounded the dark oak frame. The mattress itself was covered with a plush black duvet and luxury pillows. It was most definitely fit for a fallen angel like Doflamingo. 

 The string around your neck comes loose, leaving a ring of irritated skin in its absence. Doflamingo walks over to a red armchair that sat adjacent from his bed. He sat down and spread his long legs, giving you a perfect view of the hardening erection in his pants. With a devilish smile on his face, he beckons you over with a motion of his finger. Your body tingles with nervousness as you get closer and closer to him. You were only a few feet away from him when his hand came into the air, letting you know to stop. The same hand pointed a finger in the air and swirled in a circle. You nod and turn around to face the bed. A rush of air sends shivers down your body as the pink feather jacket was taken from your body, leaving you in your damp swimsuit. You turn your head and watch as the jacket drapes around the armchair Doffy sat in. 

 “Did I give you permission to turn around Y/N?” You whip your head back around to face the bed, causing Doffy to chuckle at your speed.

 “No sir, I’m sorry.” You hope your action didn’t piss him off enough to take your reward. 

 “I didn’t give you permission to speak either little whore.” Your body trembles at his condescending tone. “You're very lucky I’m in a good mood, otherwise you could have kissed that reward goodbye.” A wave of relief washes over you knowing it was still on the table. “Now strip and do not turn around for any reason.”  

 Your hands come up to the straps of your bathing suit. Slowly you pull them down your arms until your breasts popped out of the top. Your wet nipples harden immediately when they hit the cool air. Your hands come to your back to untie the knot, you struggle for a moment before it comes loose. With a wet ‘plop’ the garment hits the floor. You could feel your heart racing in your chest. You wanted this, you needed this. You take a shaky breath in and slide your hands down your curves until you reach the band of your swim bottoms. You curl your fingers around the fabric and bring it down until they fall around your ankles. You step out of the bottoms and kick them next to your top. You're now completely exposed to the heavenly demon.

 “Good girl.” Your body heats up at his praise. “Now bend over the bed.” You take a few steps forward and let your upper body fall onto the bed. You scooch back a little and spread your legs apart. “Spread yourself more.” You know exactly what he’s wanting you to do, and you're going to deliver. You slide your hands down your body until they reach the globes of your ass. Your fingers pull them apart, exposing your wet pussy even more. You wiggle your hips from side to side, showing him how needy you are for him.

 “What a dirty little girl, what will I ever do with you?” Your body tenses up when you feel something attach to your clit. A string? “Now I’m sure you're wondering why we came here instead of your room.” A moan leaves your throat when you feel the string moving your clit in small circles. You were so sensitive from being celibate for weeks, it took no time for your orgasm to start building. You hear Doflamingo let out an amused hum. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking you're about to cum.” You have to hold back a scream as the string picks up the pace even more. 

 You dig your nails into the flesh of your ass in an attempt to ground yourself, but you are too far gone. Your hips start desperately swirling with the strings movement. Fuck it feel so good. But right before you could get your release the string retacts. Your head falls flat on the bed as tears of frustration form in your eyes due to the loss of your high. 

 “Can’t have that now, can we?” You don’t have to see Doffy’s face to know he’s wearing a shit eating grin. You should have known better than to think he’d let you cum this early. You hear him get up from the armchair. His loud footsteps reverberate in the room. You feel the bed dip as he hoovers above you. “Now as I was saying, the reason I brought you here is quite simple. Your bed is a little bit too small.” You feel his hot breath next to your right ear as he speaks. You wonder what changed? The size of your bed has never stopped him before. You tense up when you feel the bed dip on the other side of your body. Is there someone else here? “Too small for the both of us that is.” Your heart stops when you hear Doffy’s voice fill your left ear. It made no sense, how can he be on both sides of you at once? You try to lift yourself up, but a large hand keeps your face shoved into the mattress. 

 “Do you understand what’s happening now?” His voice fills your right ear again. You feel one of his hands wrap around your hair, pulling it back to leave your neck exposed. “I’ll give you a little hint.” Now it was back in your left ear. You feel hot breath on both sides of your neck before tongues lick up the sides in perfect unison. Rough hands grab your sides and with one quick motion your body was turned so your back was now on the mattress. 

 Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you see what’s above you. Your eyes land on not one, but two very shirtless Donquixote Doflamingo’s. They both wore the same lust filled expression. 

 “Two Doffy’s? How?” You mutter out in shock. Your nerves are on edge, one Doffy was enough to fuck you into a week long coma. But two of them? That would surely send you to an early grave. As Lao G would say “You’re a goner with a capital G!”   

 “While you were busy getting off on my string, I made a clone of myself.” The Doflamingo on your right spoke, meaning he must be the real one. “It talks like me, it can even use strings like me, but most importantly” Doffy pulls you up from the bed until your face is inches from his. “ It can fuck like me.” His tongue licks a wet stripe up your face. “But a slut like you should be able to handle us, right?.” You hesitate for a second, but nod your head in agreement.

 “Now let’s have a little fun.” Doffy’s clone spoke up, licking its lips. 

 “Sounds good. Hold the little slut up for me.” The clone nods and moves on the bed until it is behind you. Its strong arms hook under your thighs and brings you up until your back rests on its abs. 

 “It's almost pathetic how wet you are.” The real Doffy stole your breath by rubbing his fingers up and down your exposed slit. Your head slams back on the clone's hard chest when Doffy shoves two fingers deep into your cunt. The long digits rubbed along the top of your walls, paying attention to your sweet spots.  

 “Of course I’m wet. Don’t you remember making me fall into the pool sir?” You smile at Doffy innocently, but your bratty tone was anything but that. 

 “Is that it?” The dark tone in Doffy’s voice made you regret it instantly. And then you see the vein in his forehead pop out, you know you're in for it now. 

 “What a dumb whore you are.” The clone spoke before biting the side of your neck harshly, causing you to cry out in pain. “You are so fucked.”

 “Tell me you foolish girl, does this taste like pool water to you?” Doffy pulls his fingers from your dripping hole and shoves them in your mouth. You could taste your arousal as he shoves his fingers even further down your throat.

 “Aren’t you going to answer him?” The clone taunted before licking the bite wound it left. “I guess it’s hard to, considering your mouth is so full huh?” Your vision blurs with tears as you gag around Doffy’s fingers.

 “I’m going to take my fingers out. I suggest you apologize and beg for my forgiveness.” The fingers slowly begin to slide out. “Afterall, you want that reward, don’t you?” His fingers leave with a trail of your saliva. Coughs erupt from your throat as you catch your breath. Your mind has been so clouded over you forgot about the promised reward. 

 “I am very sorry sir. Please forgive me!” Your voice rasps out. 

 “That's all you got? What a lackluster performance.” Doffy grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together. “I’ll give you one last chance. Use it well, my patience with you is running very thin at the moment.” His hand releases your cheeks. 

 “Sir, please forgive me for being such a dumb brat. I’ll be a good and obedient cocksleeve the rest of the night for the both of you! So please use me until I deserve your forgiveness.” Tears are flowing down your face as you desperately beg him. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t take my reward from me..” You're unsure why you want the reward so desperately when you don’t even know what it is. 

 “That’s more like it. But I still think you need to learn your lesson.” Doffy's hand reared back before smacking you across the face. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to make it sting. “Now are you ready to be a good girl?” 

 “Yes sir.” You feel a few more tears fall down your face. Doffy’s hand reaches back out. You prepare yourself for another smack, but instead he wipes the tears away with his hand. 

 “Good.” You watch Doflamingo unzip his pants, freeing his hard cock. “Drop her.” The clone releases you so you fall, landing all fours. You feel the bed move underneath you as Doffy leans his body against the headboard. “Come over here and put that stupid mouth of yours to good use.” 

 You waste no time crawling in between his legs. You stick your ass up in the air and start licking him up and down. His cock twitches under your tongue as you lick the sensitive spot under his tip. You hear him grunt meaning he wants more. You give one last lick before wrapping your lips around him. His huge size stretches your mouth until it's borderline unbearable. One of his large hands thread through your hair before he slams into you. You do your best not to gag around him as he sets a rough pace. 

 “Her pussy is so wet, like it's crying for our attention.” The clone lands a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to yelp around Doffy’s dick. “See.” You feel its fingers run up and down your pussy before bringing its hand to show Doflamingo your glistening arousal. You feel a hard twitch in your mouth as Doffy grunts. He’s getting close. 

 “I’m going to cum and I expect you to swallow every last drop.” With a few more rough thrusts he fills your mouth full of his thick cum. You swallow every bit of it and stick your tongue out to prove it.

 “Where are your manners?” The clone grabs your hair and yanks your head back. “What do you say when your master gives you his cum?” The clone releases your hair so you can look back at Doffy. 

 “Thank you master.” You smile at him through lidded eyes. He let out a satisfied hum in response.  Although you're not able to see his eyes thanks to his sunglasses, you're certain they would have a glint of satisfaction in them.

 “Get her prepared for me. She’s going to need it.” The clone got to work right away by flipping you onto your back. It hooked your legs over its shoulders before licking a long stripe up your slit. 

 “A-AH~” Your hips arch off the bed as the clone starts to eat you out. Its tongue would swirl around your clit before diving deep into your cunt. You could feel pressure building in your lower abdomen already. “ F-fuck it feels so… good~ Your tongue is the best!” You feel the Clone smirk against you.

 “The best huh? So even better than the real one?” The clone gives your clit a harsh suck before looking up at you. “I’m flattered.” It landed a playful smack on your thigh before continuing its assault on your swollen clit. You throw your head back and notice the furious look Doflamingo was giving his clone.

 “Doffy wait I didn’t mean it like tha-” You cut yourself off as a wanton moan escapes your lips. The clone's tongue started stroking that spot deep within you that had your toes curling. “Right there please~ I’m gonna cum~”

 “I’ve had enough of this.” You feel Doffy’s body move from behind you. You whine when the Clones tongue leaves you right as you are about to peak. You bring your head up to see Doflamingo had joined his clone in between your legs. They were both gripping one of your thighs while giving each other a dangerous glare. Was he getting jealous…. of his own clone?

 “Well I haven’t, so back off.” The clone had no plans of backing down as it gripped your thigh tighter. 

 “Do you actually believe you're better than me? Have you forgotten that you're a damn clone?” Doffy clenches his teeth and grabs the clone around the neck. “I can make you go away with a snap of my fingers.” You hold in a laugh as you watch the two bickering. 

 “Well how about we settle this?” You watch as the clone pulls Doffy’s hand off. “Let’s see who can make her cum first.” An evil grin etches itself on Doflamingo’s face at his Clones proposal. 

 “Fine by me.” Doffy agrees as they both turn to look at you. You felt like conquerors' haki was being used on you the way your body froze to the bed. 

 They both start leaving kisses and bite marks down your legs. Slowly but surely they inched closer to the place you wanted them the most. Finally you feel their hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. 

 “Doffy.” You call out to the man himself, gaining his attention. “Please make me cum, only you can~” He smirks at you before his expert tongue starts lapping at your folds. It's very rare that Doffy eats you out, but when he does you're always left speechless. You wish you could thank the clone for pressing his buttons.

 “Don’t forget about me.” You feel the clone's tongue join Doffy’s. The two tongues fight for dominance as they lick every inch of your needy pussy. Your body vibrates from the sheer ecstasy you're experiencing. 

 One of Doffy’s hands snakes up your body to wrap firmly around your neck. You had no trouble figuring out which tongue was the real Doffy’s. Everytime he flicks your clit, he squeezes your neck as if to remind you who your pussy belongs to. 

 “I’m gonna cum~” Your hand grabs onto Doffy’s blonde hair as your body twitches.

"Your not needed anymore." Doflamingo pulls the clone away you before shoving two fingers deep into you. Your legs begin to shake as he syncs the pace of his fingers and tongue together. The perfect harmony of pleasure was driving you even closer to the edge.

 “That’s not fair.” The clone attempts to reclaim his spot between your legs, but was quickly shut down.

 “Have we ever been known to be fair?” With a snap of Doffy's fingers, the sound of string unwinding mixes with your moans. The clone had a scowl on its face before it disappeared. His fingers pick up the pace causing you to grip his hair tighter. “Be a good little girl and cum for me.”

 “Fuck~” Your body quivers as your overdue orgasm crashes over you. Doffy’s tongue detaches from your clit, but his fingers begin to rock up and down harder. You try to fight the urge to let go, knowing what would happen if you do. “Stop Doffy, I’m going to make a mess!”  Your warning came too late as your second orgasm washes over you, causing clear liquid to gush out of you. 

 “I win. Now to claim my prize.” Doffy places his fingers in his mouth and sucks your juices off them. It's hard to lose when you get rid of your competition. “Get on your hands and knees, now.” 

 You miraculously get yourself into the position he wants. Your hands shake trying to hold your worn out body up. Stay focused Y/N, don’t pass out. You hear the familiar sound of a condom being opened as the bed dips. One of his hands ghost up your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its path. The same hand wraps tightly around your hair as he bottoms out in one motion. He stays pressed up against your cervix for a few minutes, letting your walls stretch and relax around him. You move up and down his length, letting him know your ready.

 The pace he sets is rapid and ruthless. His cock effortlessly hits all of your sweet spots with every thrust. The blinding pleasure was starting to build up all over again. Your hands shook violently on the bed, you know they are going to give out any moment now. 

 “Are you struggling?” Doflamingo deep voice whispers in your ear. “Want your master to help you?” You weakly nod your head. Doffy’s free arm hooked under you, bringing you off the bed until your back was flush against his chest. He bottoms out again and continues his relentless thrusts. The new position gave him full control over your body, leaving you completely at his mercy. 

 The hand that was in your hair moved down until it stopped at one of your neglected nipples. He rolls the bud between his thumb and index finger before pinching it hard. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. He then moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment. 

 “It feels so good.~” Your hand goes down to play with your clit but Doffy stops you.

 “Not so fast little girl.” He switches the position to where he is laying on the bed with you on top. “You're being so selfish, making me do all of the work.” His thumb starts circling your clit causing you grind down on him. “As a matter of fact you’ve not only selfish. You’ve been disobedient, bratty and you even went as far to say that stupids clone tongue was better than mine. You don’t deserve that reward, not even in the slightest.” His cold tone causes you to halt your movements. Something about it struck a chord deep within you. 

 “I’m sorry Doffy.” It hurt knowing he was so disappointed in you. You feel your mood declining. All the dopamine and adrenaline that coursed through your body had finally run out, leaving you emotionally vulnerable.  

 “I’m not finished talking yet, so stop crying and listen.” You were unaware of your tears until he mentioned it. You watch as his hand comes up to his sunglasses. He inhales a deep breath and pulls the glasses off. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes. No one has ever seen his eyes, not even Trebol has. “Look at me Y/N.” Slowly, you drop your hands. Your eyes connect with his. His right eye was ruby red, while his left eye was white and foggy. 

 “Doffy.....Your eyes are beautiful. But why? Why did you show me?” You look at him in awe. 

 “I can’t even answer that myself.” He sighs and runs a hand through his blonde locks. “It doesn't matter anyways. You still want that reward?” 

 “Yes, I do.” You were starting to think him showing you his eyes was the reward. 

 “Make me cum and it’s yours.” He crosses his arms behind his back. Out of everything you and him have done tonight, this was by far the most intimate.

 You slowly start going up and down his length. Every fiber in your body was screaming at you to stop, but the desire to please the man below you was louder. The lewd sounds of your body's connecting fill the room once more. You pick up the pace as you chase your high. Doffy’s hands reach out and grab onto your plush hips. His grip was getting tighter and tighter, causing your hips to roll and grind on him.

 “Fuck.” Doffy curses. One of his hands leaves your hip and moves to wrap around your neck. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?” 

 “My master.” You cry out as the grip around your neck tightness.

 “And who is your fucking master.” He brings your head down so your eyes meet his. 

 “You!” Tears of pleasure rolled down your face. “Donquixote Doflamingo!” You cling onto consciousness as you meet your final orgasm. Doffy follows you as he slams against your cervix. You stay still until his cock softens inside you. Slowly you lift yourself off him. Your body collapses on top of him the moment he is fully out of you. You know he is not a fan of skin to skin contact after sex, but you were too weak to hold yourself up.

 “Doffy.” You muster enough energy to lift your head. “Did I do a good job? Are you going to give me the reward?” Your vision was starting  to go in and out. 

 “Yes, I suppose you did.” A weak smile forms on your lips at his words. 

 “Good.” Your head falls back down on his chest. ”That makes me so happy.” Your eyes close and despite your efforts no to, you black completely out.

~While you were knocked out~

 “How amusing.” Doflamingo snickers at your worn out body splayed on his. “You put all that effort in for a silly reward, just to pass out before you're able to indulge in it.” He lifts your body off of his and lays you gently on the bed. He puts his sunglasses back on and calls a maid in.

 “How can I help you young master?” The maid was blushing ear to ear seeing the state you and him were in.

 “Go get something for Y/N to sleep in from her room and change the sheets. I do apologize, it’s my fault they got a little wet.” The maid's cheeks got even darker at his declaration. Doflamingo picks your limp body from the bed and makes his way over to the bathroom. “And if you tell anyone about this, I will cut your head off and send it to your family. You may go now.” 

 “Yes young master.” Her voice wavers with fear. With a bow she leaves the room.

 Doffy turns his shower on, letting steam fill the room. He sat you down on the shower bench so he could clean himself. After giving his body a good scrub down, he picks your body up and places you under the warm water. He leans your body against his and begins to massage shampoo into your hair. After rinsing the suds out of your hair, he poured shower gel into a washcloth and started to lather it into your skin.

 “You're missing out young lady. I’m even using my expensive soap on you~” No response. Doffy rolls his eyes and continues to rinse your body off. He turns the shower off after he deems you squeaky clean. He sat you back down on the bench so he could dry himself off. He threw on a pair of silky pink boxers and then got to work drying you off. 

 He picks you up and takes you back into the bedroom. The maid had laid your clothes out on the freshly made bed. Doffy grabs the night gown and places it over your body. He never in a million years would have thought about pampering a woman like this. But yet here he is.

 “I normally only take these off of a woman, but I guess I’ll make an exception just this once.” He grabs your panties and rolls them up your legs. He admires the small pink flamingo that decorates them. “I’ll have to buy you more of these.”

 He pulls the duvet down and places you under it. After turning the lamp off he joined you in the bed.

 “Baby 5……” You mumble in your unconscious state. “If you go out, get me the latest copy of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And don’t let Doffy find out.” 

 “I’m not Baby 5 and I already know you read those silly books you insufferable woman.” Doffy whispers in your ear and as he expected you don’t respond. 

 Doflamingo has never been one to fall asleep easily, normally he reads a book or ponders his next heinous act. But tonight he finds himself watching your sleeping form. The moonlight that peeks through the curtains casts an ethereal glow on your face. “Do you want to shower with me and maybe we can cuddle together for a while after?” He recalls your request from that night. You have technically already showered together, even though you weren't awake for any of it. Which was of course your (Doffy’s) fault. Now it was time to fulfill the last part of your request.  His arm hooks around your midsection and pulls you so your head rests on his chest.

 His arm wraps around your back keeping you snug against him. He’d never openly admit it to you, but he was enjoying this. From the way you snuggled closer to him, to the way your body molds perfectly with his. Like you were made for him. Because you were made for him. He has never been one to keep the same woman around for long. He viewed women how children viewed toys. They are fun for a little while, until something more fun comes along. But not you. You're different from the others who threw themselves at him. He of course finds you very attractive, but there was something else that allured him more. 

  You are truly like his loyal lap dog. No matter how much he neglects you and no matter how many times he metaphorically “kicks you”, the moment he sticks his hand out you come running to him with that dopey smile plastered on your face. You're so hopelessly devoted to him and he loves it. You can’t live without him, he knows that. But a small part of him feels the same way towards you.

 “I think I’ll keep you around. For now at least.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Your body stirs awake when you feel something tickling your ear. You search for the cause only to hear light snores coming from above you. Slowly you raise yourself from the bed to see the source of the snores was coming from none other than Doflamingo. You bite down on your lip in order not to laugh. It was so funny to watch a man so powerful and scary snoring.  He was still human after all. One particularly loud snore causes a giggle to escape your lips. You slam a hand over your mouth and pray he didn’t hear. 

 “Mind telling me what’s so funny?” It was too late, the beast was already lifting up from the bed.

 “It’s nothing Doffy, you were just snoring.” You press your hands against his chest urging him to lay back down. “I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome, I apologize. Sleep well young master.” You scooch yourself off the bed only to be pulled back by a strong arm. He brought you back down to his tone chest and wrapped his arm back around you, caging you to his side. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the gesture. You lips form into a wide smile as you enjoy the warmth he provided.

 “I don’t snore. And you're fine right where you are. This is your reward after all.” You feel his hand draw soothing shapes into your back. I must be dreaming.

 “If that’s the case, I really like my reward. Thank you.” Your eyes travel up to meet his. You were on cloud 9 and the huge smile on your face proved that. He rolls his eyes at you before slamming your head back down. “Can I request one more thing?” You muffle out into his pecs.

 “Well, aren't you a greedy girl? What is this request of yours?” You feel your heartbeat pick up. You hope this doesn't go south like last time. 

 “Will you please kiss me? I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me and I-.” Your cutoff when his lips connect with your. It catches you off guard, but you slowly melt into it. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as he slips his tongue into your mouth. Thankfully he pulls away before it gets too heated, you doubt your worn out body could go another round.

 “Satisfied?” You meekly nod before laying back down on him. “Good, now go back to sleep.”

 “One more thing.” You hear him groan out in response. “Now that I’ve seen your eyes, are you going to kill me?” The room fell silent before he started laughing.

 “Perhaps.” You don’t know what worse, the fact he’s laughing about it or not knowing if that perhaps was a joke or not. “Now go back to sleep or I may actually off you.” That time you could sense he was kidding. He was kidding right?

 “Yes sir.” And with that you fell back asleep in his protective hold.

 ~The morning after~

 You woke up alone in Doflamingo’s ginormous bed. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll off of the plush mattress. Judging from the amount of sunshine that filled the room, it was very late in the morning. You stretch your arms over your head and let out a satisfied hum.

  Your eyes scan the room and stop on a large tray of sweets sitting on a table. After last night activities, you've worked up a appetite. You walk up to investigate the confections and notice a couple books stacked neatly beside it. You jump up and down when you realize the books are the latest volumes of “Daydreams of Dressrosa”. And they were all signed copies! There was even a copy of the book that was destroyed in the pool yesterday.

 “What page was I on again?” You open the book and skim through the pages until you find a pink feather marking page 112.

 Unknown to you, a certain warlord watched you with a rare, but rather pleasant smile on his face.

~End~

[angelicglib]

‧₊✩ Christmas Comfort ✩₊‧

[ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

[ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ]: 25/12/23 (REPOSTED: 28/12/23)

[ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ]: After Johnny's death and a failed mission, Simon returns home to his girlfriend.

[ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ]: 3,252

[ᴛᴡ]: hurt/comfort, angst, a somewhat happy ending (it will never be fully happy without soap I am sorry) possible mw3 spoilers (if you have been living under a rock please avoid)

[ᴀ/ɴ]: This is my first story here, please be kind I beg <3 also very sorry for this but I had the idea and thought it would be quite a bittersweet story for the holiday season !!

THIS IS A REPOST !! I've had few issues with shadowbans and have moved accounts a few times (tumblr thought I was a bot) so, if you would like more stories from me, my new blog is @manicrouge !!

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Christmas this year is going to be tough.

You know it from when you open the door to him on Christmas Eve. 

Time has passed, he hasn’t been home for months and you were starting to convince yourself that it’s going to be years before you ever see him again.

When you were talking on the phone earlier, sometime during the middle of November, he had made a comment that he wasn’t going to come back home until he had made sure he had the pleasure of declaring that the enemy that had murdered his best friend was officially gone for good. While your chest tightened at his comment, you had nodded along and assured him that they would catch Makarov eventually; there were only so many places one man could hide before he’d revert back to familiar ground. 

You feared the same for Simon at that moment. In fact, even with him home safe, you still do.  

Of course, you would never say that to his face.

Despite his capability in combat, however, you often find yourself awake at night wondering just how capable he was when it came to processing and dealing with loss. Had he done what you assume he has done, he was most likely going to run from it instead of addressing it. Problems will build up and up until they came tumbling down. It’s a simple thought to construct during the late nights you have been spending alone since the news of what had happened to Johnny had found its way to you. Just as such a thought is easy to construct, you find that another one comes to you quicker than the former: where would Simon be when the building he’d constructed over the years fell to pieces? 

There were only so many places he man could hide before he’d refer back to familiar ground. Even if said ground was crumbling around him. Maybe in his misery, he would find solace in falling to his doom with the chunks of shattered earth surrounding him.

If that assessment is wrong, it doesn't matter; your brain has decided it before your heart even gets a say.

You have very little to go off of concerning with how he dealt with loss, the occasional comment about his mum was enough for you to know that he wasn’t the type to completely forget about a loved one. 

He's vague about his past. The less said about it the better. 

‘You keep pawing an’ clawing at my brain like a damn puppy,’ he said, trailing his hands through your hair. You were guilty, for sure you were. Curiosity was sure to be the death of you in that regard. He’d let small facts slip on occasion, although, you knew his accidental slip ups were most definitely intention. 

Of course, Simon Riley was no fool.

’Just tell me something,’ you begged, ‘like… I don’t know, what was your favourite food to eat at Christmas when you were younger? Ooo, I bet it was something like liquorice. You’d so make your nan pissed by robbing all the good shit out of the sweet tin.’ You laughed at the thought of a tiny Simon Riley climbing on top of a chair, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he attempted to snatch the sweet, sweet treat of liquorice. 

‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me?’ he scoffed, ‘actin’ like I’m an old man doll,’ he snorted, ‘stop tryin’ to pester me f’r memories you have no business viewing.’

‘Is it illegal to be curious now?’ you asked with a playful smile. It was silent for a moment, and you lifted your head in an attempt to find his eyes in the darkness.

‘Yes, it is,’ he said, ‘you don’t wanna know me from the past, love,’ he huffed, ‘doesn’t matter now.’

‘You won’t even tell me what your favourite food was during Christmas?’ 

‘No,’ he reverted back to the same Simon you had seen when Johnny had been talking his ear off during the rare nights out you had had with 141. ’Now go t’ sleep, gonna be tired in the morning if you keep rambling on. My ears are burning with ya, doll,’ he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. 

Despite everything telling you to pull away from him, you maintained your closeness, the warmth of him far too appetising to refuse. Exhaling deeply, you rested your head against the pillow, staring straight at the wall in front of you. Your heart hurt at the very thought that he cared so little about his past that he fought to keep everything from his earlier life away from you. Even the smallest things. Of course, you would never had pried him, only the few passing comments in hopes for him to slip up as he had done a few times before. 

Another hard sigh escaped you as you close your eyes. He shifted behind you, resting his head against your shoulder. You thought nothing of his sudden movement; it wasn’t uncommon for him to do so while you were sharing a bed together. Only, he turned his head, his breath ghosting your ear. Inhaling, he swallowed hard. ‘Mum used to make us roast dinners,’ he whispered, ‘used to always slap my hand away whenever she was cooking cause I used to always rob the pigs-in-blankets while she was still getting dinner ready.’

A small laugh passed your lips as you turned in his hold, placing your hand against his cheek with a cheeky grin. He stares back, blue gaze gutting through the darkness, slicing your soul to pieces.  ‘Now, will y’ stop huffin’ and puffing and just go to sleep?’ He asked, placing his hand over yours. 

‘Soundly, Lt.’

Even behind the mask, you could sense the sadness, the loss. A flurry of emotions hits you when you first see him after what has happened. What can you say to him? Anything other than I’m sorry seems to be an insult to him and to the memory of the man that is sure to haunt him.

The mask hides his face, but it never hid his eyes, his tired and war-weary eyes. It's a brutal sight to see the man who had put the fear of God through you when you had first met reduced to this crushed soul. 

‘Simon,’ you say after a while of the pair of you just standing there, staring at each other. For a brief moment, it felt as though you had opened the door to a stranger instead of your boyfriend. Lifting his head, his Adams apple bobs beneath his balaclava as he steps forward. You take a step back, letting go of the edge of the door. Still, he doesn't speak, only standing there, observing you. ‘I thought you said you weren’t coming home until—‘

‘Don’t wanna talk about it,’ he answers, closing the door behind him.

His clothes are branded with the stench of war, and you take note of his bloodshot eyes. Has he been crying? You thought it impossible for such to be the case, he’d do no such thing. But, when he shakily inhales, grabbing the edge of his balaclava, your stomach dropped.

‘Place looks nice,’ he says, though his eyes don't leave you, ripping his mask from off of his face, shoving it into of his cargo pants. His words were shaky despite the stoic expression on his face. ‘You been alright?’

You look at him with wide eyes. ‘I- uh- yeah, yeah, just sorting out last minute things for Christmas,’ you answer, ‘how about you go and get a shower, get changed into some fresh clothes? I’ll make you something to eat—‘

‘Not hungry,’ he answers frankly, ‘appreciate the offer, doll, but I think I’m just gonna go straight to bed,’ he says. All the moisture in your mouth disappears and you’re forced to swallow a dry mouthful of air as you look up at him. 

‘Right,’ you nod, ‘I- I’ll be up right after you, just gonna turn everything off down here,’ you say.

He doesn’t answer you after that, dropping his duffle bag down on the ground by the front door as he traipses up the wooden steps of your home. The garland wrapped around the bannister winks at you as you watch Simon walk up the stairs, almost mocking you for ever think it was a good idea to decorate.

The entirety of your house is wrapped like a Christmas present, reds, greens, colourful lights- everything. Whether it was the right thing to decorate or not, you choose not to focus on it too much as you rush around the house, switching off the decorations and the lights, leaving the washing you had been doing on the counter in the kitchen. 

All of it can wait. But he can’t. 

So, with such a thought in mind, you busy yourself with your plan. What is included in that plan can be decided as you’re walking through the house, back to the staircase you have just seen your poor boyfriend walking up.

Jogging up each step, you decide that ultimately, everything that has happened in the past few months with be something he will not be willing to discuss with you; he made it clear when he walked through the door. Don’t push him on it.

When your foot hits the last step, you nod to yourself as you consider what you would do if he did want to talk to you about it. If he wants to talk to you about it, then you rejoice in his openness. But it isn’t necessary for him to have your undying support. No matter what he decides, ultimately, your heart is never going to fail on him. 

Before heading into your bedroom, you gulp when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, your eyes scan over the message, a shallow exhale escaping your lips. 

Mum &lt;3: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. made sure to grab extra pigs-in-blankets incase Simon decides to appear sometime. Love you xx

Begrudgingly, you stare down at the message before looking at the bedroom door. From beyond it, you can hear the running water in the shower and all you can think about is him. So, with a deep breath, you look back down at your phone and begin to type. 

From ‘me’: Slight change of plans but I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it there tomorrow. Simon’s just got home and he’s not good. Don’t think socialising is what he needs right now. Sorry, I love you xx

Choosing has never been easy, yet, when you pushed open the bedroom door and saw his clothes sitting on the bed the pair of you share, you decide that that choice was the easiest one you have ever made in your life. It isn’t a sacrifice when it is necessary. At least, not when it comes to Simon at least. 

--

‘I’m not going home tomorrow,’ you tell him when he walks out of the bathroom. Part of you feels bad for bombarding him with something as soon as he walks out, but the affirming text from your mother causes your heart to swell, and when you see him again, it bursts. His hair is damp and he pulls his face out of the towel with a surprised look. His scarred cheeks are branded with a subtle red tinge from the heat exuding from the bathroom. The heat works well to melt his features just enough for him to mould them into a dissatisfied sneer. ‘I don’t wanna fight you on this, Si.’

‘You can’t cancel on your family,’ he says, approaching his dresser. ‘Not right. I don’t want you to do that for me,’ he continues, grabbing a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. ‘Go spend time with them, am fine here.’ 

‘I already told my mum,’ you say, ‘she’s fine with it,’ you quickly reassure, far too aware that he very well may be a ticking time bomb.

Oddly, you request of not fighting on it seemingly works as he looks over his shoulder at you. There is simply no fight left in Simon Riley anymore, you conclude it from the way he shrinks as he exhales, padding up to the bed. It was as though he had left the house as a grenade left the hands of a soldier. Upon his return, the body of what made him him: his danger, his determination, and his strength had all been lost and you find he has been reduced to the pin pulled from the grenade. 

Looking up at him, you find that it is up to you if you’re going to discard it or keep it as a keepsake.

Pulling the edge of the duvet, you pat the side of the mattress, ‘c’mon,’ you say gently. He doesn’t wait to climb into bed beside you, resting his weary head against the pillow. It’s as though someone is pressing down on his chest as he heaves a sound unlike anything you have ever heard. Exhaustion was clear, but grief was easier to identify in his eyes. Leaning over, you turn the lamp on your beside off, trying your attention to him, lying on his side. 

There’s nothing to say. Not to him, not for him, not for yourself. You just lay there and stare at him hoping something will come to you. Anything said will be a bittersweet lullaby, you’re convinced. Nothing is going to put him to sleep. ‘Your minds running; faster than mine, sweetheart,’ he says. His eyes are closed when you look at his face. ‘Don’t want you doin’ stupid things ‘cause of me.’

‘Nothing is stupid when it comes to you, Si’,’ you weakly state.

At this point, you heart is racing, your tongue tangled as you contemplate every single word on the edge of your tongue. ‘Mum said she’ll bring us dinner tomorrow,’ you say with a weak smile, debating on whether or not you should spoil the surprise. ‘We can eat it and watch something… if you want to.’

‘What’s she bringing,’ he asks.

‘A roast,’ you answer, ‘it is Christmas after all.’

He’s quiet for a while, almost as though he doesn’t even want to think about what day it is. December 24th. Christmas Eve. You’re unsure how exactly the holidays work in 141, only noting that he had been away a few times during Christmas. Oddly, this is one of the first ones he’s home with you. His second Christmas since knowing Johnny that he isn’t with him. Your heart weakens at the realisation, your brain cursing you with the knowledge of something so agonising.

They had spent Christmas together.

And now they won’t and never will and it isn’t just because of the distance between Manchester and Scotland.

Rather, it’s because of the distance between this life and the next.

Your eyes well with tears and you close them. Your heart hurts for the man lying in front of you, and when you hear him clear his throat, you find it difficult to contain your own sorrow. ‘Doesn’t feel like Christmas,’ he tells you, his voice trembling as he does. ‘Haven’t slept at all since ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him just… lyin’ there,’ his throat tightens and his tone grows pitchy as he inhales deeply, swallowing hard. ‘I shoulda done something, I should’ve been there f’r him.’ 

He’s crying at that point, but not sobbing. In fact, you only know he's crying because, when you place your hand against his cheek and the pad of your thumb wiped away a tear that falls past his eye. ‘You were,’ you choke out, ‘even in death, you were loyal to him, Si’, don’t you dare go cursing your own name for something you were not responsible for,’ you demand. ‘You’ll get him.’

‘We’re fallin’ apart without him,’ Simon sniffles, ‘bet he’s sitting up there pissin’ himself seeing me like this,’ he utters. The pair of you share a laugh at the thought and you move close to him. ‘I just… I told myself after everything that happened to mum and Tommy, I wouldn’t feel anything ‘cause that fucked me up, but then I met Johnny a- and I met you.’

You hold your breath. 

‘Simon—‘

‘And what if I can’t keep you safe? I’ve failed at it so much and that fucking pricks got me doubting myself now—‘

‘Shut up,’ you firmly say, ‘I don’t wanna hear it, Si’,’ you utter, ‘and neither would Johnny.’

You press your thumb against his cheek, ‘doubt is a killer, and it’s not me who you’re not gonna be able to protect if you keep thinking the way you are, it’s yourself,’ you continue, licking your dry lips, ‘and… and if you die, then who’s gonna steal the pigs-and-blankets on Christmas Day?’ 

Whether it was time for humour or not, you’re unsure. But, as you thinking for a moment, you recall the tales told to you by Simon during his time away, particularly his time with the Shadows. 

Two goldfish are in a tank… 

‘You still remember that?’ he asks eventually. You feel the muscles contort in his face as he smiles at you. 

‘Always,’ you respond, ‘mums got them with the dinner tomorrow ‘cause I asked her too… said she got extra incase you planned on robbing any of them.’ You feel bad telling him such information knowing that you had chosen to cancel the holiday. If anything, you’re worried about the guilt you’re causing him by rambling on about the stupid fucking pigs-in-blankets. ‘My point is Si’,’ you take a deep breath, ‘I need you here with me so you can fulfil your duty.’

He shifts and pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. Your hand brushes through his hair, melting in his arms as his hot breath fans against your neck. ‘Wanna see your family tomorrow,’ he says, ‘I’ll go with you.’

‘Are you sure—‘

‘’Ave been stuck in my mind for nearly two months,’ he confesses, pulling away from your neck. ‘Fighting with myself over everything, I’ve hardly spoken to Price or Gaz,' he says. You press your lips together, the thought of him being alone nauseating. ‘Be a waste of money as well if I didn’t try pinching the food your mums made, wouldn’t it?’ 

You feel him smile as he presses his face back against your neck, his grip on you so tight its almost painful. But you relent, allowing him to have the comfort he so deserves. Resting your head above his, you close your. Whatever awaited you in the future can wait, you conclude.

‘I proud of you,’ you whisper, pressing a kiss onto his head. 'Never gonna let you doubt yourself ever again, not on my watch,' you continue, 'now sleep. We can talk more when you're ready.'

He smiles again.

'I know I can sleep soundly now,' he utters against your skin, 'got you beside me.'

With that, the pair of you fall into silence. You don't sleep, not until you feel his breathing steady against you skin, the subtle rise of his chest as he keeps his arms around you. You keep running you fingers through his hair before eventually, you find your eyes growing heavy and you drift off.

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