#bustle cage

[dresshistorynerd]

i hope this isnt too random and is something you can help me with--i'm needing a reference of someone around the 1870s-1880s running, like a dull on sprint, in a bustle dress. would that even be possible? would she just be lifting the dress part up and have the layers underneath be showing? would she pull up the crinoline (if those were worn at the time, i'm sorry i'm too lazy to research atm) as well? i hope the question isnt too broad or confusing. thank you so much!!!!

Hi! Not at all too broad or confusing question!

I'm assuming you mean the Second Bustle Era dress, since it's the more well known and iconic bustle style. The First Bustle Era was roungly the first half of 1870s, then there was Natural Form Era in the middle and the Second Bustle Era was most of 1880s. The two bustle eras were distinctive in style, but they mostly had similar layers. To illustrate the difference here's a fashion plate from the First Bustle Era and another from the second.

Yes you could run in a bustle dress. As you see especially in the Second Bustle Era dresses, the hem didn't quite reach the ground, which is really the the thing that will get in your way, if it would. As someone who has worn several different full length evening dresses (not very historical though but that's beside the point) and ran and danced in them, I can say the issues only really come when the hem reatches the ground. Then lifting the hem becomes necessary.

A type of cage crinoline was indeed used with the bustle dress, called bustle cage. Unlike the typical crinoline it was only in the back, shaped similarly as 18th century side panniers, because that's where all the volume was, so it wouldn't get in the way when running. There are though some examples of bustle cages that did go all around and simply were more volumous in the back, but I haven't seen any of them being dated into 1880s. The first bustle cage below is from 1887 and the second is from 1870-72.

A full crinoline though actually helps moving around and running. It was one of the reasons why it become so quickly so widely used in 1850s. It carries the fabric of the dresses keeping them away from the feet.

Even when lifting the hem isn't necessary, it's likely that while running the petticoat would show at least a bit. Shift hem wouldn't likely be seen as it was a bit shorter and the first layer. Petticoat was worn over the bustle cage and would help giving the fashionable silhouette, though some skirts would have a foundation skirt attached to them and then separate petticoat wasn't needed. It was most often white and had more volume in the back often in shape of ruffles. Here's couple of examples, first from 1883 and second from 1886.

I thought primary source references could be easiest to find regarding dancing and tennis. I thought it might give a nice range of different types of dresses. I didn't find useful painting of dancing in Second Bustle Era gowns, but this one from the First Bustle Era is close enough, I think.

I found two paintings depicting tennis in bustle gowns, one from the First and another from the Second Bustle Era.

Tennis was played in the typical summer day dress, which for tennis were traditionally white. So the outfit would have all of the layers like you'd normally have and the dress would be from light breethable materials, light cotton usually, and sometimes a little more loose fitting, so it does work as a good reference for how to move in an average day dress.

Lastly I'll link here a video from Prior Attire channel, where she dresses up in about 1885 dress for tennis and demostrates playing tennis in it. It shows really well how that type of dress moves and how you can pretty easily move and run in it without having to really do anything about it. The full demonstration starts around 23:37 mark, but the full video is useful in showing all the layers that goes into it.

[fantasy-scifi-art]

[princessasmosprincess]

I haven't seen all of the Met Gala looks b/c I'm studying but WHERE ARE THE BUSTLES

[shotmrmiller]

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

--

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (9)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. profanity, usage of alcohol, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode ten

Satoru had a major problem. 

And it was his self-control. His lack of self-control was the reason he had engaged himself in an adulterous relationship back when he was married. His lack of self-control was the reason why you had become the recipient of his unreasonable anger in the early stages of your marriage. His lack of self-control was the reason why, out of all the women in the world, he was now sleeping with a friend of yours. For God’s sake, his lack of self-control was probably the reason why you were also pushed to your limits, choosing to cut your marital ties with him and leaving only the scraps of his role as a parent to Sachiro.

Back when he was attending his weekly therapy sessions, his therapist told him that part of what he needed to learn was to control his impulses, resist temptations, and actively exercise his willpower. They were easier to achieve then than now, since he was the loneliest man at the time with no friends, no wife, no son, and no bustling company to run. His decisions remained untainted, his temptations unchallenged, his emotions uninfluenced—a solitary journey at its finest. He was all by himself. How come? It was because he was sent by his mom to Osaka to temporarily seclude him from his harrowing memories in Tokyo, compelling him to sever ties with the outside world and immerse solely in personal convalescence. Reflecting now, it felt no different than being sent to a psychiatric hospital.

He could say it worked at the time. He learned how to keep his emotions at bay. He learned how to control his thoughts, throwing away the bad and keeping only the good. He was a new man by the time he returned to Tokyo, prepared as ever to take on his role as the Chairman of the Gojou Group, ready to once again try and live a normal life. But the moment news had spread about his ex-wife's marriage to his business rival, all the self-control he had painstakingly cultivated seemed to have evaporated in an instant.

Everything also went downhill after that. 

He wasn’t going to list down all of the things that happened nor the impact it had on him since you yourself were a witness to them. But if he was going to look at the way your return has changed the trajectory of his life 3 years after you first left, he would still at a hundred percent put all the blame on his shoulders. None of this domino effect would end up like this if he had been a faithful and loving husband in the first place. The pressure from his father was not the only root of all this, the branches also extended to his corporate greed which ultimately ruined his chance at a fruitful marriage with you. 

But at least, the chaos should have settled by now. You chose to move forward and he decided to respect your decision by finding his way to another. This should free you both from the emotional torture that had you imprisoned in each other's cage for the longest time. He would still be there for you as the father of your child, but otherwise, he was happy that you had Toji Zen’in by your side to fill in the marital gaps that he had failed to complete. 

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. The warm water fell on his body in rivulets, soaking him completely so early in the morning as he decided to take a long shower. For how long? He couldn’t tell. He could stay there for hours if need be. He had to let his mind wander on its own, with a hand pressed against the wall, and another stroking his white hair back. Despite accepting the fact that Toji now owned your love and affection… well, wasn’t that son of a gun too lucky? Did he even realize that the woman he would marry was once Satoru’s entire universe? 

Ah, but who cares? Satoru scoffed inwardly, leaning his head back to let the water hit his face. He had Akemi, so why did it matter if you had Toji? He wasn’t bitter. He was just trying to reason with himself that you deserved to be with someone you really, truthfully loved. And he deserved that, too. Maybe not now, but at the perfect time, he could relive the life of a married man after learning from his mistakes the hard way. A much better one. A married man who would never in his life betray, hurt, or ruin his partner. A doting husband who would offer his whole life just to make her happy. He promised to himself that Akemi should have that kind of man from him. 

Though, he could ask himself, how far was he from achieving that? He did practice his self-control last night when joined you in the pool—his face, inches away from you. Hand gripping your hip. Eye-to-eye. Skin-to-skin. Your warm breath fanning his cheek. Just another step forward and your lips would touch. But he didn’t let that happen. He mustered all of his power to pull back from the gravity that was drawing him closer to you. Still, he couldn’t deny that you looked absolutely gorgeous last night. As the moonlight illuminated your face, he could swear that the stars also sparkled on your eyes. They must be from the tears you were desperately holding back, but either way, you were still so goddamn beautiful. He almost couldn’t keep his eyes off you last night and had to distract himself from looking at your lips, your collarbone, your chest, your curves…

“Fuck.” 

Talk about self-control. 

Satoru had none of that right now. His body reacted involuntarily to the thought of you last night. The sensual thought of you. The what-ifs.

What if he had wrapped your legs around his waist and enveloped your lips into a passionate kiss? 

He took a deep breath, still holding onto the wall as his other hand traveled to his growing member. 

What if he had carried you all the way into the living room and laid you naked on the couch? 

Closing his eyes, his hand started moving on its own, stroking his hardened cock and feeling every ridge as he pleasured himself. 

What if you had let him devour you? Let him roll his tongue on your entrance and taste your sweet, sweet flesh? 

Gojou let out a moan. A quiet yet desperate moan when he continued to jerk himself off faster and rougher. Damn it. He had to keep it low and he better not be heard committing such a sin in the bathroom. Although, he was confident that you were still sound asleep next to Sachiro in your bedroom, so he didn't think you would hear the noise he was making.

After all, it was shameless to know what was driving his feral thoughts right now. Thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance. Thoughts of him ramming his cock inside your tight cunt, being squeezed by your soft, velvet walls. Thoughts of your breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot. Fuck. Faster. He would have taken you on all fours, too. He would have let you ride his hardened shaft. He would have pressed you against the sofa and put your legs above his shoulders, letting you milk his cock with the tightness of your cunt. Satoru would release his warm seed into you in every position. He would shoot every drop of his cum straight to your womb, no doubt impregnating you for the second time around. He would absolutely love that. He would love seeing the residues of his wanton desire for you seeping out of your pussy. He would be at bliss watching your belly grow a few months after that, knowing that he had created yet another beautiful life inside of you. 

“Y/N…” 

Awakened by his senses, Satoru opened his eyes and saw the sticky white mess on his hand and on the wall. What the hell did he just do? More importantly, what the hell was he thinking of? 

No one should know about that. Not you, not even Akemi. He didn’t cheat on her, no. He didn’t do anything with you. That shouldn’t be counted as cheating. He didn’t even touch you. And he wasn't even officially dating Akemi.

No, no… 

Absolutely not.

Drowning into a pool of guilt, the first thing he did after that sinful shower session was to contact his supposed girlfriend not-girlfiend. And to make things even more awkward, you entered the kitchen in silence at the right time, carrying a sleepy Sachiro in your arms, unaware of the dilemma that was sending your ex-lover into a spiral.

“Morning,” he greeted almost inaudibly, clearing his throat and taking a sip of coffee afterwards. He had to think straight. 

“Morning,” was your simple and oblivious reply as you went about your daily morning routine. 

Gojou, on the other hand, was typing on his phone because Akemi wasn’t answering his FaceTime calls. He had completely forgotten to update her all day because he had been a little bit too occupied the moment he landed in America. She must be overthinking why he hadn’t reached out to her until now, and he felt extremely awful and responsible for that, but she couldn’t be fast asleep that early, right? It was 7:00 a.m. in New York, so that meant it was only 9:00 p.m. back home. 

He nervously rang her number once more, mumbling a ‘please answer’ as he watched her caller ID appear on the screen. 

“Dada,” called Sachiro, looking at him as his mother sat him on the high chair to prepare his breakfast. 

Still holding his phone, Satoru walked to his son and placed a gentle kiss on his tiny forehead. “Morning, Sachi. Did you sleep well?” 

The toddler nodded at him, drinking milk from the baby bottle that he was holding with both hands. His eyes were wide and blue—quite the same hues of blue that would remind you of a clear sky. Satoru couldn’t help but pinch his adorable son’s cheeks. 

And while you were busy picking out food from the pantry, Akemi finally answered his call after the fourth attempt and showed her beautiful, soft features on the screen. His eyes immediately lit up at the sight of her. “Hey, how are you?” 

He could tell she was still a bit distant and upset because of what happened two weeks ago, when she claimed to have heard him say your name during his sleep. He already made an excuse for it as he also didn’t know why he even did it in the first place, but Akemi was still understandably hurt. He couldn’t blame her. 

“I’m fine, how are you?” she tiredly asked, seemingly heading towards her bed. “I just got home from work, that's why I wasn’t answering.” 

He could see, in the corner of his eyes, that you were glancing at him but he didn’t return it. All of his focus was on Akemi, feeling bad that he hadn’t exactly been a good partner for her lately. Especially after the shit he just did in the shower this morning, but that was a secret that was meant to be buried. “Alright, did you have dinner already? It’s morning here so I’m having breakfast.”

She offered a small smile albeit the visible exhaustion on her eyes. “I did. How’s Sachiro doing?” 

“You wanna see him?” He walked closer to his son, showing him on the screen as his big blue eyes stared at the woman on the other end of the line. “Sachi, say hi to Auntie ‘Kemi.” 

“Hiii~” Sachiro happily greeted Akemi, while the latter cooed at the sight of his son. She spoke to him with a gentle and motherly tone, weaving warmth and love into her words. It made his heart full knowing that Akemi would wholeheartedly treat his child as her own, because if there was a slight possibility that she wouldn’t, she knew that Satoru would rather let her go. His child was still more important than any other woman. And so if his future partner couldn’t accept the fact that he had a child with his ex-wife, then they shouldn’t be in his life after all. The case was different with Akemi because she was already your friend and she had the chance to see Sachiro grow up before Gojou even knew his son existed at all. It was a bit complicated, but things turned out to be easier on the part of acceptance. 

The only problem was you. 

Because by the time the call ended, Satoru could tell that you weren’t in the best mood as you ate breakfast next to Sachiro in complete silence. Your eyebrows were curled into annoyance, and yet your eyes held sadness in them, an expression that had become difficult for him to fathom. Were you jealous of Akemi? He assumed you would say no, but your expressions showed otherwise. 

“Y/N,” he called for your attention, hoping that you would look into his eyes for a little bit. Yet, not a chance did you do. “What’s our agenda for today?” 

You seemed irritated, if anything. You refused to look at him as you gave a curt reply. “I communicated everything you needed to know via email. You should have checked it instead of letting Miwa do everything for you.”

Jeez. You were definitely angry. “Okay.” He cleared his throat once more. “I just asked in case there was a last minute change.” 

“There isn’t. I would have said so if there is.” 

“Right.”

Satoru didn’t know how to act in front of his ex-wife anymore. Now that he had seemed to ignite your pique, he chose not to say anything else further as you two finished your meals and cleaned up after yourselves. The only time he spoke again was when he offered to bathe Sachiro so that you could focus on yourself. 

You agreed. 

And he did his part. 

It was simple give-and-take. A transactional relationship, if you must. Nothing else would blossom from that except your responsibilities as parents for Sachiro. 

——

The New York trip was already as awkward as it was. And it only just started. 

To be fair, it wouldn’t have been as uncomfortable if only Gojou had not decided to make it so. He was the one that made the atmosphere unpleasant by trying to savor every inch of closeness he could get to your skin, only to pull away as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t care about how it made you feel. He even had the audacity to lecture you on how to go about being good parents and setting a good example to Sachiro. Then suddenly, the next morning, he would act like such a loyal and caring partner to Akemi. 

The thought of his loyalty made you scoff on the inside. He should be the absolute last one to be saying that. He should be the last one to profess how much of a loyal man he was trying to be to his new girl. 

Besides, even before this trip was arranged, you had already made it clear on your mind that the sole purpose of going to New York was for Sachiro's sake. Any interaction outside the need to be there for your son would be unnecessary. He wasn’t someone you still needed in your own personal life nor did he need you in his. Your past relationship no longer mattered in this situation and all that was left was for it to be forgotten. But even with your resistance to be anything more than a parent to your son, Satoru still respected you. He still showed, even in little ways, that he cared about your comfort throughout the trip. 

Five days had gone by, and everything you did in New York had been smooth sailing, all thanks to his grand number of connections across the USA. In a short amount of time, Sachiro’s surname had been legally changed, and everything else concerning his birth certificate had been corrected. The only issue left to address was your son’s nationality since Japan doesn’t permit dual citizenship and Sachiro would have to carry a Japanese citizenship and the Gojou name to be able to inherit his father’s assets and multinational conglomerate. You would leave that one up for Satoru to deal with, but everything else had been settled on your end. 

Although this trip wasn’t exactly a vacation, Gojou insisted that you two still take Sachiro out to explore the city he grew up in. And you did so by going to Central Park, telling your ex-husband stories of how you used to bring Sachiro there in a stroller when he was still a little baby and that plenty of strangers, both locals or tourists, would coo at him the minute they took a peek at his adorable face. You also took him to the Empire State Building to get the best view of the entire New York City, and Satoru being Satoru couldn’t leave without taking a family photo with you and your son, capturing the beautiful urban cityscape behind you. You could see it in his eyes that even though he was happy to be there, he was also melancholic at the same time. Almost three years of his son’s life were spent in this famous city, without him, and it was as though the bitter memories of those three years for him were haunting him back. Sadness was reflecting off of his crystal blue eyes as he took a minute staring at the view of the city, reminding you that you were the reason why he had missed out on his baby’s first memories. 

If guilt could literally eat you alive, you would have been devoured. 

“Ready to go, Sachi?” Satoru asked your son, tucking his phone away after having (seemingly) sent Akemi a text message, probably updating her of where he was and what he was doing. In fact, he had been texting and calling her every now and then, as if he was doing his best to reassure her that he wasn’t doing any funny business with you. Has Akemi always been a possessive partner? Even with your years of friendship with her, she had never acted that way in her past relationship. So, was she only like that to Satoru specifically? You wondered if she would go nuts had she heard Satoru tell you how badly he wanted to make more babies with you on your first night here. 

Sachiro nodded, clinging to your hand while reaching for his father’s. “Dada, hand pwease!” 

Satoru did offer his hand, but mirrored the surprise on your face when your son tried to link your fingers together, urging you to hold each other's hands like a couple. You didn’t want to get too offended by it, but your ex-husband was the first one to pull away. “I, uh, made a reservation for us in Carbone,” he said, unable to exchange eye-contact, “Yuuta will meet us there.” 

“Oh, he’s in New York?” you asked, pretending you didn’t notice how he acted allergic to your touch and redirected your attention to your son. “Did you hear that, Sachi? Uncle Yuuta will come and see you.” 

Your little one was oblivious to the world, too distracted by the throng of people surrounding the place that he didn’t even notice how his parents were uneasy with each other. To say that you didn’t feel bad for your son was a lie, because it actually broke your heart. Even if you and Satoru were working on co-parenting and making sure Sachiro wouldn’t feel the gravity of a broken household, you knew that when he reached the right age, all of this would still have an effect on him. One day, he would still be asking questions about his parents. Questions about why you separated, why your marriage failed, and why you had to move to New York while his father stayed behind. It hurt. Deep inside, it hurt so much to know that your only son wasn’t given the chance to have a complete family and it felt like a failure on your part as his parent. 

You were sure that was what Yuuta thought, too. As you met with him at a fancy restaurant in the city, you could see how his face lightened up seeing his nephew bonding with his parents as if it were a family vacation. He must have known what it was like to have a broken household. In fact, he had lived in a toxic one before, but he still grew up to be a mature and dignified young man who never let the horrors of his family’s actions affect his rational thinking. So if there was anyone in the world who would sympathize the most with Sachiro, it would be Yuuta.

“Sachi,” he spoke to your son fondly, wiping the sauce on the toddler’s chin. Yuuta chuckled as he watched the little boy's grimace after being given a small piece of broccoli. “You don’t like vegetables?” 

You fixed the bib on your son’s neck. “He does, but he’s very picky with it,” you tell Yuuta, glancing at Satoru who was busy speaking on the phone with Nanami about what appeared to be matters concerning the company. “Wonder where he got it from.” 

“Right.” Yuuta’s eyes turned into moon crescents as he smiled. “I remember nii-san being a little picky.” 

“You hear that Sachi?” you teased your son, who looked at you with his cute puppy eyes. You knew that if you had the ability to peak through his toddler mind, it would actually be full of fried chicken. The thought made you laugh. “Don’t be like daddy, okay? Sachi needs to have his veggies so he’ll be strong when he grows up.” 

“But…” Sachiro pointed to his father. “Dada is stwong.” 

Satoru chimed in at the conversation after having finished the call, “That’s right, Dada’s strong. Mommy could barely even handle me.” 

“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” You rolled your eyes, while Yuuta wanted to giggle, but chose to hold it back seeing the awkwardness of the situation.

Satoru shrugged and sat on his chair, eyeing the scrumptious dishes that were served to your table. He was acting like he hadn't been served more expensive meals before. “Have you tried the spicy rigatoni before? I heard it’s famous here.” 

You casually answered. “Yes. Toji used to bring me here every time he visited.” 

Look, you didn’t mean to overshare nor did you mean to make things even more awkward. You also didn’t mean to slap it in his face about how you were spending your years in New York with Toji. But Satoru, with his pride, took it resentfully. 

“Oh, really?” His words were the opposite of his voice. He was mirthless and full of unenthusiasm before changing the topic, redirecting his attention to his step-brother instead. “How’s Harvard?”

Yuuta eased the tension by making small talk, sharing details about his university life, and making sure he didn’t contribute to the growing tension. “I’m really just trying to survive this semester so I can go back home as soon as I graduate.” After taking a sip of his Cabernet Blend, he continued, “Like I promised, I’ll help you with the company.” 

You were happy, at least, to know that Satoru and Yuuta had fixed their relationship as step-brothers even after the whole incident with Nana, Eula, and their father. What used to be a relationship full of envy and competition finally became one that was full of mutual trust and support. Yuuta deserved that since he never once wished for his brother’s downfall, while Satoru also deserved to have a family member that had his back and helped him with the business without constantly fighting about inheritance. Because technically, Satoru was the sole heir of the Gojou family, and his dad only made it seem as though he would give it to Yuuta to make his own son comply with his orders. Satoru’s dad was controlling in that sense, and that was what led to all of this. 

But the present was more important. Things have changed and mistakes have been learned. It was all up to you on how you were going to manage your new life moving forward. 

Only, if only things were a little bit different on his side.

——

You had raised your son all by yourself for the last 3 years, so the presence of his father wasn’t really something you were used to for the longest time. How Sachiro acted around other people was solely a reflection of your teachings, discipline, and guidance as his mother. He didn’t really have a paternal figure up until now, and even if Toji was there to support your journey to motherhood, he never fully meddled with your mother-son relationship nor did he act like a replacement to Sachiro’s biological father. He loved him like his own, but respected the fact that the spot was reserved for Satoru. He knew that. He understood that, because he himself experienced raising a child alone without the presence of a mother. And if you asked him, he, too, would not want Megumi to replace the very love that he was supposed to have for his biological mom. Sure, Megumi could love and respect you, but Toji would still want him to save an unnegotiable spot for his mother in his heart. After all, she had birthed him. And in that same way, you had birthed Sachiro and created him with Satoru during your marriage. If there was anyone Sachiro should look up to, it had to be his father. 

And quite frankly, the father himself was doing an excellent job. 

But then again, remembering how hands-on Satoru was to you during your pregnancy, you never doubted that he would be a good parent. He may not be a perfect husband, but he loved his child with all of his heart and soul, and he would risk it all just to keep him happy. 

It was new to you how, throughout the trip, you didn’t have to take care of Sachiro alone. You and Satoru helped each other harmoniously, attending to your toddler’s needs and making sure he was being prioritized. You were glad. Truly. You were grateful to see that he wasn’t an absent father and that his words weren’t empty when he promised you that he would be a responsible dad to him. 

Though, at the back of your mind, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he welcomed another child in this world? A child that didn’t come from you? Deep inside, it hurt you to imagine him neglecting Sachiro on the side the minute he welcomed a new baby with Akemi. The reality was, the father would always prioritize the child of the current wife, not the child of the ex-wife. He would still support him, sure. But would he still pay the same level of attention that he was giving Sachiro now? You would probably break in half if Sachiro was thrown to the agonizing realm of feeling like an outsider in his own family because no child deserved that. If Satoru had that experience first-hand, he should not subject his own son to that same feeling.

You would be selfish to say this, but you wanted to seize the opportunity while Sachiro was still his only son. Hiding him from his father was your fault—you had gone through that a million times and you weren’t shy at holding yourself accountable through that mistake. However, you were already doing your best to make amends and make up for the years Sachiro had missed around his father. He was Satoru’s first and only child, and therefore he should never fight for his father’s affection. You weren’t sure what Satoru’s long term plans with Akemi were, but if they were considering having their own children someday, you would never allow your son to be pushed back at the bottom of the family tree.

Sachiro was the true first-born son of Satoru. He should never have to fight for his position in his father's eyes.

And so on the night of your flight back to Japan, when Satoru asked if he could take Sachiro with him for the rest of the week, you had no problems in saying yes. Your only wish right now was for them to spend as much time together as possible.

“Where are you taking him?” you did ask in spite of your leniency to send your son away, waiting inside the car as the pilot and crew prepared the private jet. “Please send me the full address. I need to know where he’s gonna stay and—”

“You’ll get the details from Miwa,” he casually said, rubbing Sachiro’s back as the little boy slept on his chest. He didn’t bother meeting your eyes as he talked. “I’m just taking him to my vacation home in Osaka.”

Osaka…

That was where his mother isolated him from the rest of the world when he was having terrible episodes. Episodes that worsened after he had found out that you ‘terminated’ his child and abandoned him for good. Shoko once said that they felt like Gojou disappeared from their lives while he was there, because nobody else could reach out to him. They couldn’t visit him nor could they contact him for a year or so until he was mentally ready to come back to Tokyo. 

You didn’t want to pry on matters that were sensitive to him, so you chose not to say anything concerning his decision to take Sachiro to Osaka. He must have wanted to reflect on his past experiences, allowing him to heal from them as it brought him to the incommutable life he had now—life knowing that Sachiro actually existed after everything that he was made to believe. 

“Please take good care of him, okay?” It was only a reminder, nothing else.

Satoru kept a straight face, nodding before he planted a kiss on his son’s forehead. “I got it from here.” 

After a minute of silence, you both got out of the car and you watched him carry the peaceful Sachiro in his arms. You left the sleeping toddler a tender kiss on the cheek before parting ways. “I love you, my baby.” Stroking his hair, you kissed his tiny nose. “Mommy will see you soon.” 

Satoru knew that you were staying behind. You had informed him of your plans before you even came here to the airport with him, explaining that Toji would be in Miami and that you had made arrangements to meet with your fiancé there. Satoru didn’t say anything much about it either, simply nodding his head at your decision and telling you to ‘do whatever’ because he was no longer a husband you should report your plans to. There was no hint of jealousy in his stance, but you couldn't miss the flicker of bitterness that did appear on his eyes for a millisecond. 

You didn’t even say goodbye to each other as you watched them board the plane. And he didn’t even bother looking back at you to tell you to take care of yourself. Not that you expected anything from him, but a quick goodbye would have been nice since you did spend the last couple of days together. Or perhaps, he was upset about the fact that you were staying behind to meet Toji? 

Either way, you were on your own now. 

It took some time for you to reach Toji in Miami. He had insisted on meeting you at the airport, but because he had to meet with a foreign investor, you headed straight to the hotel he was staying at. Funny enough, you couldn’t help but compare how different it was to stay in the same accommodation as your fiancé vs with your ex-husband and son. With Toji, nothing felt uncomfortable and sharing a room as a couple was as normal as it should be, but things did feel too formal and too forced. With Satoru, it felt awkward to share the same space with him, but since your son was there, it felt like home. It felt strangely close to home, like it was only right. That staying together as a family was what your heart wanted. 

Ever since Satoru went back to Japan with Sachiro, you had been feeling a wave of separation anxiety. Your mind was always left wandering towards them; how they were doing, where they were, what they had for dinner. You wondered if Sachiro was giving his father a headache. Smiling at the thought, perhaps he was giving Satoru a hard time changing his diapers. 

“Everything okay?” Toji, noticing your trance, put an arm around you as you two sat at the VIP lounge of the Miami Grand Prix. This was Toji’s scene. If Satoru was a fan of horseback riding and polo, Toji preferred big time F1 races. He even personally knew the racers, the type of cars they were driving, and everything a huge fan had to know. You weren’t all that familiar with these things, so it was a little hard to keep up with his lifestyle. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry,” you stammered, realizing how distracted you had been all this time. “What were you saying?” 

He drank from his glass of 30 year-old Macallan, downing the liquor like it was mere water. A cloud of disappointment settled over his features. “Not interesting to you, huh?” 

“No, I…” You made an effort to place a hand on his nape, giving him an apologetic peck on the lips. “I’m really sorry for zoning out. I was just… I guess I was just a little tired from New York.”

Toji placed a hand on your knee, sighing. “It’s fine. I was just trying to introduce the guys to you,” he said, scooting closer as he pointed to the racers. “You know that guy? Lewis Hamilton. He’s quite popular with the ladies,” then he moved his finger towards the other drivers, “And we got here for Ferrari, Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc, also fan favorites.” 

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of Gojou’s favorite car brand. “Um, how about McLaren? Who drives for them?” 

Unsure if Toji caught on or not, he did take a minute before feeding into your curiosity. “Norris and Piastri.” 

You wished you had any idea about F1 so that you could be as enthusiastic as Toji was at this event. He was at his happiest right now and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a boring, uncultured fiancé, because frankly, all these women around would have done a better job at entertaining him. Toji was very eye-candy and you couldn’t blame these models from glancing up at him, especially with how manly and suave he was, dressed like a picture perfect example of an old money businessman. The likes of him were the prey of these desperate influencers, willing to sell their bodies in exchange for a night with him. But truth be told, that was their way of living and you could never find it in yourself to insult them. You didn’t want to shame them for attempting to climb the social ladder because that was how they view money and success, or at least a faster ticket to it. 

As long as they didn’t try to make moves on your fiancé while you were around, you wouldn’t be so bothered by a few stares here and there. 

Neither was Toji. He must have experienced being stared at during these events plenty of times before, and he probably even sent women home crying because of rejection or worse, humiliation. Now that you think of it, how did Megumi feel when his father was being hit on while watching the Grand Prix? Most importantly, why was the teenage son absent at this current event? 

“Love, why didn’t you bring Megumi with you?” you inquired out of a sudden curiosity, knowing that Megumi was always present next to his father during F1 events. 

Toji took a sip of the hard liquor once more. “He didn’t wanna go. He was giving me the silent treatment before I left for the US.” 

Confusion further blanketed your eyes. “Did something happen back home?” 

He let out a deep breath, his face signaling that he was deep in dilemma. “The Zen’in elders want to set him up for an arranged marriage,” he revealed, much to your surprise, “They wanna make sure he’s not gonna end up like me, married to someone who wasn’t ‘qualified’ to be my wife.” 

At first you were confused if he was referring to you, but you realized that he was describing his late wife. Megumi’s own mother, the only woman Toji had ever loved by a mile. He fought everyone for her, even turned his back on his own family for her, but claimed that he also ultimately led her to her demise because the elders of his family harassed her until the day she died. It was a tragic love, perhaps even more tragic than yours, so you somehow understood why Toji was conflicted about Megumi’s personal life.

But you? You were strongly against it. “I don’t support arranged marriages, you know that,” you told him with conviction, sympathizing for the poor boy, “It’s not gonna end well. You know what happened to me…”

“I know.” Toji’s eyes were filled with regret. “I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it unless Megumi himself tells me he has someone he loves.” 

“Did you ask?” 

“He’s tight-lipped about it.” 

You sighed. “Well, he’s a teenager. They get pretty shy about these things.”

Forcing a marriage was never a good thing. You couldn’t understand why the concept even existed because it didn’t benefit anyone aside from the people around the married couple. That was why they called it a marriage of convenience. They were married for everyone’s sake but themselves; family name, status, business… You have had enough of it. If only you realized it from the very beginning, you never would have subjected yourself to a loveless marriage with Satoru. Even if your love did grow eventually, things still didn’t work out for the best, and now your life was a mess. A divorced couple co-parenting their only son? There was obviously no convenience gained in that false marriage.

Megumi would just be wasting years of his life tied to a person he didn’t love and so you were hoping that Toji would fight for his son’s right. Because if he truly understood you, he would not subject his son to the same suffering you went through. 

“I wish my wife was here,” mumbled Toji, forlornly, “She’d know how to handle these things better than I do.” 

Were you not there for him? You swallowed your pride, hiding the pain in your voice. “Right…” A smile was all that you could offer. “I’m sure she would.” 

——

Something was different about Toji and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

It wasn’t his appearance, and neither was it the way he spoke to you. He was all the same except for one thing; the look in his eyes. 

He had told you this before. He said that the eyes carry the most truthful and raw emotion that you can see on someone. The presence of love would be visible in someone’s eyes just as you would see stars on a clear, night sky. The lack, however, would mean that the eyes are blank and empty like the dark void in the expanse of the universe. You didn’t have to be poetic to be able to discern the way his eyes communicated his most solemn feelings in spite of trying to show otherwise. 

He must have been tired. Being caught up in your back-and-forths with your ex-husband, having to put up with your pretentious co-parenting situation, and the never ending need to keep an open mind about your situation with the same man who had ruined you. When your heart was in pieces, wasn’t he the one who tried to fix it? Wasn’t he the one who remained by your side during your darkest times? 

Whether that may be true, whether he truly ever loved you, you could recognize the stark difference of the Toji that genuinely cared for you to the Toji that was only actively trying to be there for you. What had changed him all of a sudden? 

“Toji, you drank a little too much.” A weary sigh escaped your lips, pulling all your might to drag your fiancé to lie comfortably in your shared bed later that night. At least, on the way to the hotel room, you had his bodyguards to thank for. They were there to haul him while he was in his drunken stupor, letting you lead the way, and dumping him carefully to his bed because there was no way you would be able to carry such a muscular man all by yourself. Now that you were alone with him, you decided to care for him the same way you used to do when Gojou was coming home drunk at night. Starting with his shoes that you took off, his shirt that you unbuttoned, his pants that you unzipped. “Come on, love. I’ll get you changed.”

The verdant hues of his eyes weren’t present. They were hiding behind his lids, refusing to meet your gaze. But if anything, he did open his mouth to speak, “...You. You wanna know a secret?” 

Drunken words are sober thoughts, you reminded yourself. Of the numerous times Satoru had gotten drunk during the early stages of your marriage, it was how you found out that deep inside him, he did care for you. That in spite of his ill-tempered exterior, he was a man deprived of parental love and support. What would be the case for Toji, then? 

“Yeah?” You waited for his answer, slipping his shirt off and revealing his toned body. 

The scar on his mouth moved when he displayed a mirthless smile. He was as drunk as an alcoholic would be. “I don’t… think… I can love you the same way I loved my first wife.” 

Your heart paused. In fact, every heartbeat became heavy. You knew how he felt, but didn’t expect him to say that out loud. “I-Is that so…?”

“Absolutely,” he mumbled, chuckling inaudibly. He was at a point where he was too far gone to realize the magnitude of the words he was saying to you. “Even if you try your best, she was everything I wanted in life and the only woman I could ever offer my heart to. She’s irreplaceable, and I don’t feel guilty about it... because I know you’re still into Satoru, too.”

“That’s…” You held your breath, holding back the sudden tears that formed in your eyes. “That’s not true.” 

Toji wasn’t done yet, however. He still went on with his drunken speech like he was finally pouring out raw, yet hurtful words out of the bottle. “Who knows? You would’ve had him touch you back in New York if you didn’t have me. You would’ve had him impregnate you, have his second child with you, and guess what? He still won’t be loyal to you.”

The pain in your heart increased tenfold. Everything went still and every minute felt like a stab to your soul. Should you say something? Should you get angry at him? No, no you couldn’t. Your chest was tightening and you knew it was smart not to let such negative emotions overpower you. His words were just a little difficult to grasp because Toji never in his life had been callous with his words to you. The tears that fell from your eyes were from the betrayal that you felt after hearing the cruel words he had uttered. And yet, you tried to hold on to that thin string of hope that Toji’s words didn’t come from a place of truth. 

“That’s enough, Toji. Go to sleep.” You pulled away, swallowing the bitter taste of weakness in your voice. 

He hummed, unaware of the pain he had put you through. “The more I look at you, the more I realize how much I actually don’t want to spend my whole life with you,” he admitted, with little to no regard for your current feelings, “I can’t fill this emptiness by being with another empty soul. And if there’s one thing I’m most grateful for, it’s that I let you run away that day before I fulfilled my vows with you—”

“Enough!” You shot up from bed and wiped the flood of tears on your eyes. “Enough! I’ve heard everything you wanted me to hear, okay?! Enough!” you raised your voice in despair, almost begging for him to stop tearing your heart asunder. “I get it! I fucking get it… so enough. Please, Toji.” 

Drunken words are sober thoughts.

A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.

Alcohol is a truth serum. 

The revelation of Toji’s true feelings that night was a reminder to you that he was just like any other man. That you should have never put him in such a high regard, thinking that he would be the prince charming that would save the poor damsel in distress. Why? What would he benefit from someone like you? You only deluded yourself into thinking that a man like him would take a single mother so seriously. You were only meant to be a placeholder for his dead wife after all. 

A placeholder, certainly. Not even deserving to have the title of a wife.

——

There was a huge contrast between being with you and Sachiro in New York vs being with Akemi and Sachiro in Osaka. The difference? There was no awkward air between Akemi and him. They were free to do things as they will—no restrictions, no certain do’s and don’ts. They were happy to have each other’s company, minus the guilt nor the unease of being by each other’s side. If anything, Satoru bitterly assumed that you were having the time of your life in Miami with Toji. You were so keen to see the man back there before parting ways with your ex-husband and son like you were simply discarding them to the side. 

If so be it, then fine. Satoru had all the right to have his son all to himself while you were gone. Besides, Akemi was just one call away and she was everything he could ever ask for. She cared for Sachiro as if she was his own mother and Satoru couldn’t be more grateful that he didn’t need to work on building a bond between her and his son. 

In fact, Akemi very much knew how to win Sachiro’s heart. As they took his adorable son to Universal Studios that day, she was nothing short of a caring mother. She had acted as a guardian to his son throughout the rides, letting the toddler enjoy his time at all the wonderful attractions that the theme park had to offer. Not once did his son cry too, so that only meant that they were doing a great job at taking care of him. 

Of course, it was a different story in the afternoon. After having spent all of his energy during the day, Sachiro had become tired and hungry by dinner time. But he wasn’t such a difficult kid to tend to, so Satoru was proud that his son still wasn’t throwing a tantrum even after a whole day of not having you around. 

“We’re gonna get Sachi fried chicken,” he enticed the pouting toddler, kissing his forehead while Akemi carried him in her arms. “Is that what you want?” 

Sachiro nodded and wrapped his little arms around his auntie’s neck. “Chicken, dada.”

Akemi smiled at the child’s gesture, tempting her to also place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so cute and well-behaved, Sachi.” 

“—Satoru?” 

At the familiar voice, all three of them turned to the woman standing behind like a deer caught in the headlines. She was tall for a woman, slender, and had long, auburn hair, rosy cheeks, and ivory skin. Next to her was a tattooed man with salmon pink hair, a piercing on his ear, and a very defensive stance. Ah… How timely. 

Sera and Sukuna. 

Satoru wasn’t sure if he should openly greet them, after all, they weren’t acquaintances. And it was only recent that he got his memories back, triggered by Sera's presence at the expo. Other than that, he had no business with the two of them. Sukuna wasn’t a business partner of his, so him and Satoru had no formal connection towards each other. As for Sera, she might be his ex-girlfriend, but they didn’t exactly have the healthiest relationship to begin with, so…

“Of all the places,” she mumbled, almost gaping at the sight of him. Her eyes then trailed off to Akemi and Sachiro, with which her expressions shifted to guilt. Did she recognize his son? Did she remember the horrible attempt she did to harm his child during his ex-wife’s pregnancy? The memory was flooding Satoru’s brain like a tsunami. Yeah, in that case, Sera should definitely be filled with guilt. She tried to kill this harmless child. 

He cleared his throat, now becoming protective over his son at the presence of his ex. “We gotta go—”

“I guess it’s true,” Sera spoke again, this time redirecting her attention to Akemi. “The rumors, I mean. It’s all just surprising to me considering how obsessive Satoru was to Y/N.” She paused, seemingly wanting to comment at her ex-boyfriend’s current relationship in a mocking way. She kept her eyes on Akemi only, while Satoru was left wondering why Sera was acting hostile towards her. What was her deal now? She wasn't in the position to be acting all entitled to Gojou anymore, but here she was, talking to Akemi like she had met her before. “Did you know? He sacrificed everything for her. No one else made him beg on his knees the same way Y/N did.”

He couldn’t even tell how Akemi felt while Sera was clearly taunting her with her words, but she still managed to smile and excuse herself, keeping Sachiro away from an environment that should only be between adults. It was ridiculous, surely. What was Sera thinking trying to subject his son around that kind of hostility? Balling his fists, Satoru turned to Sukuna and spoke to him man-to-man. “You’d better keep your woman entertained so she’ll stop meddling into other people’s business.” 

Sukuna, however, found the situation equally humorous. “Don’t worry. We both are entertained.” 

Making a spectacle of Satoru’s personal life? No wonder they ended up together. They were both pieces of shit. 

Before Satoru turned on his heels to follow Akemi, Sera still had one last thing to say to him. This time, she was more calm and less malicious—her eyes following Akemi’s trail before looking back at him, “Satoru, if you have truly grown as a man, you won’t do this to Y/N.”

——

Sachiro was fast asleep when they returned to the Gojou clan's vacation home. 

Meanwhile, since the night was young for the two adults in that house, Akemi and Satoru shared a passionate session in the living room downstairs, letting her ride him as he placed soft kisses on her collarbone. They tried to keep quiet, obviously, and all the lights were turned off, leaving only the moonlight illuminating their view. After a few more minutes into their lovemaking, they eventually met their climax and tried to catch each other’s breath, embracing her in his arms as she fell limp against him. 

“Satoru, I missed you a lot while you were gone.” 

“...Same.” 

Silence engulfed them for some time until she let out an exasperated sigh. It was clear in her facial expressions alone that she was pondering about the whole scene with Sera earlier. “That girl earlier, Sera, she—”

“Don’t mind her.” Gojou closed his eyes and leaned his head against the backrest. He knew he had to clear things up straightforwardly, leaving no room for any misunderstandings. “She just loves riling people up. It’s ironic she’s coming at Y/N’s defense now like she didn’t torment her back then. She’s not worth paying attention to.” 

“Okay.” Akemi pulled away, cupping his face and stroking his cheek. She also offered him an angelic smile while doing so. “But you don’t feel that way anymore, right? For Y/N?”

Satoru took a deep breath, but steadied the movements of his chest. He felt defensive all of a sudden. “No.” 

Her smile grew more relaxed as she pressed a light peck on his lips. “Right.” And for a while, they both stayed silent. His thoughts ran straight to you, while hers was quite on a different route. “Earlier when I put Sachiro to bed, he called me his mama.” 

His eyes widened. “Oh… he did?”

She answered with a nod. “I don’t know if he’s just half asleep calling for his real mommy, but… At that moment, it made me realize how much I want to have my own,” she hinted at him, wistfully staring at his blue eyes with her shining ones, “with you.”

——

You didn’t take the flight back to Tokyo. 

What you took was an immediate flight straight to Osaka where you knew your son and your ex-husband would be. You weren’t sure if it was due to the height of your emotions, but you surely let your impulse win the best of you this time. 

You just wanted to escape. It was for the first time in your life where you were dying to set yourself free from Toji’s presence, the very same person who you once likened to a buoy in an open sea. Now he was no longer that. He was far from that. He was an anchor pulling you down at the deepest part of the ocean. Needless to say, the pain was still fresh from your heart when you took the earliest flight back home after his drunken confession to you. 

Despite the many missed calls and texts and emails he had sent you, none of them were returned. None of them were seen, or read, or had been replied to. 

All you wanted to do was get to your son. Your son. Your only comfort from all the painful things that the world has thrown at you. If not for Sachiro, you would have long ended yourself. But because he was born in this world, because he relied on his mother for love and guidance, you had to be strong and you had to seek the comfort in your heart from him. 

They could all turn their backs on you, but never will your son do. 

And so, after a few back-and-forth emails with Miwa to confirm the address of Satoru’s residence in Osaka, you ignored the jetlag that was hitting your body and traveled straight to his place without a wink of decent sleep. Sachiro. Sachiro was all you ever thought of when you asked your driver to drop you off the park nearby the Gojou clan's residence as soon as you spotted your son's mop of white hair, him running across the small bridge and pointing towards a fish in the pond. Your son was happily calling all the fishes, gushing about them to Satoru who stood next to him. 

You didn’t even care at how you looked during that moment. You just wanted to get to your son and embrace him in your arms. He had been away from you for way too long and you had already grown pale and sick from the separation anxiety that engulfed your heart and mind. 

You had to have your son. You had to hold him.

“Sachi!” you called out, a smile present on your face as you made your desperate way towards the bridge. Your son looked at you the moment he had heard your voice, and was already skipping towards you with a bright smile on his face. “My baby!” 

Satoru’s face, on the other hand, turned pallid. His eyes were full of surprise, unable to believe that you were actually right in front of him. It was like he had seen a ghost. No, worse than a ghost. Why? Did he not expect you to come when he had let Miwa send the address to you? Were you not welcome to visit your own son? 

“Mamaaa!” Sachiro hugged you tightly, allowing you to attack his cute face with kisses all over.  

“Mommy missed you so much, my baby.” You could almost cry. As young as he was, he had no idea how much comfort he was bringing into your heart. Just to be able to see him, hold him, kiss him was enough for you to feel complete again. It was at your brokenness did you realize how much Sachiro could fix you whole.

“Y/N, I thought you…” Satoru paused, confusion seemed to be settling on his features as you looked up at him. “You’re supposed to be back by Monday.” 

For a moment, you were reminded of the reason you came home earlier than intended and it stung your heart to think about. “Change of plans.” 

A small scoff left his lips. “Don’t tell me you left Toji back there.”

I did, you wanted to say. Satoru had no single idea how true his words were, but that was none of his business and you had no plans of confiding in him about what had happened. You may be angry with Toji now, but you still respected him enough not to do terrible things behind his back. 

“I had to see my son,” you lied, although it wasn’t exactly one, and got up while holding your toddler’s hand. “Are you ready to go home with mommy, Sachi?” 

Reluctance clouded your son’s face, and he became more resolute at shaking his head the moment a woman’s voice called for him from afar. A woman, a very, painfully familiar woman came into view a few meters away from you. Standing there was your best friend, Akemi Hirai, looking at you with wide, mortified eyes as soon as she saw your presence. 

And in a snap, Sachiro ran to her. Your son ran straight to her, joyfully and excitedly as if she was his real mother. 

How many more heartbreaks do you have to go through? 

How many more tears do you have to hold back? 

“I…” Your hands were shaking. Your entire body was on the verge of breaking down. All this time, your son had been in this vacation home living like a happy little family with your ex-husband and best friend. 

Now, he even refused to go home with you. 

Gojou scanned through the look on your eyes as though he was reading your emotions, but you showed none of it. Not a single emotion could be seen on your face. Not an ounce of pain shown, despite seeing how your son immediately forgot about you and headed straight to another woman. How excited he was to spend more time with his dad and his new girlfriend. How, much to your discomfort, he refused to go back to Tokyo with you. You saw the future family Sachiro was about to have without you in the picture, and damn did it hit you like a truck. 

Why, why did everyone in your life choose others before you? 

“I’m sorry. I’ll bring him to your house Monday morning,” said your ex-husband in a soft, delicate voice, almost as if he was being careful with you. “We’ll take care of him.” 

You could simply nod, avoiding eye-contact with anyone in the vicinity except for Satoru. “Okay...” you struggled with words. Your entire body was shaking. The last thing you wanted was to sound like a selfish mother, but frankly, you were about to self-destruct. “Just keep him happy… that's all I ask.” 

Behind your mask of indifference, Satoru knew what right words had to be said. You needed reassurance, and that was exactly what he gave you. “I won’t ever take him away from you, Y/N. I promise.” 

You watched them walk away, leaving you alone with a look of sympathy that you didn’t need. Sympathy that you despised having received. This should serve as a wake up call to you that no one in this world would ever love you. That even your own child would, one day, abandon you. 

As tears fell from your eyes, you felt a certain pang on your chest that hurt worse than every other pain combined. “You know you’re not so good with promises, Satoru.” 

[toms-cherry-trees]

Safe In Your Arms || Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Summary:  There is only one person whom the Prince can find comfort with

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, lactation kink, mommy kink, p in v sex, handjob, edging and denial (m receiving), overstimulation (m receiving), implications that Aegon was beaten as a child, Aegon being a sad little meow meow, minor character death,

Author’s Note:  First time writing Aegon y'all!. But this idea had taken root in my brain and had to be delivered. Thank for to my lovely honorary wifey @aemondsbabe for brainstorming with me and giving me the seal of approval at an ungodly hour. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @fairysluna

The embrace catches you by surprise, a pair of strong arms circling your waist and a nose nuzzling your neck, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin. A large hand cups the round weight of your breast, clumsy fingers unsuccessfully trying to undo the buttons of your servant’s dress. The other lays flat against your belly, pushing your body flush against the prince standing behind you. You try to halt his movements, eyes darting around the nursery to ensure your privacy, even though you knew the children have gone out to the Godswood with the Queen and Princess Helaena. Still, you need to make sure no prying eyes will come across you two. You will not be the first servant the prince laid with, nor the last, but gossip would spread nonetheless if Aegon is found being so amorous with his children’s wetnurse.

He has already opened the first two buttons when you decide to stop him, gentle but firm fingers holding his own and pressing his hand against your heart. A small groan of discontent escapes his lips, and you can picture the scowl in his face without looking at him. He complies and abandons his efforts, but doesn't let go of your body, keeping you caged on a grip tighter than usual. You two linger like that for a few moments, surrounded by a comfortable silence. You could stay like that, but you know that something particularly bad has to occur for him to seek you during the day and with such desperation.

“My Prince?” You try to crane your neck to lay eyes on him, but he only groans again and buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your flesh. You feel dampness on your skin, like tears dropping slowly from his lashes.

With a bit of struggle you turn around, still trapped in his arms. You try to make him look up but he refuses, hidden into you like a cranky child. Over time you have learned how to read him, as easily as an open book laid out before your eyes. He has his way with words to brazenly flirt, jest and argue, but never to express his feelings, especially when they overwhelm him. He just tries to show with actions what his mouth refuses to say. 

Tenderly, like you would do to one of the children in your care, you force him to look up and meet your gaze. Red rims his eyes, violet pupils glossed over with unshed tears, the imprint of a slap still fresh and inflamed upon his cheek. You need not ask to know he has once more been caught in an altercation with his grandsire and mother, one in which he stood no chance. He never has a chance against them and the great plans they have for him, plans in which he has no say nor desire.

“Go to your bedchamber” You murmur quietly, two fingers pressing against his lips to stifle the protest that has already formed “I will be there shortly.”

Begrudgingly he drops his arms, quietly exiting the nursery, shoulders slumped and gaze downcast. You quickly finish your current duties, instructing another maid to cover for you as you make way to his chambers as discreetly as possible, excuses ready upon your lips should someone question your presence away from the children. But no one looks at you twice amidst the hustle and bustle of the Keep, and you find his door unguarded and unlocked.

Aegon has already thrashed the bed in a fit of anger, the blankets scattered around it while he lays under a sheet, still fully dressed and shoes still on. He clings to a pillow like a child to a beloved toy, although by the way he does it, so tight his hands touch his own arms, you think he is trying to actually hug himself, give himself some of the love he rarely got. You sit by his side, a hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. He takes your hand, fingers tight around your wrist as he brings it up to his face, pressing your soft palm to his reddened cheek. He closes his eyes, and you notice yet more tears beading on his lashes, and the characteristic wobble of his lower lip. 

“Let’s get you comfortable, yes?” Soft tone and gentle words, a speech used many times before with him. You have been there a plethora of times with him drunk, hungover, crying, covered in spilled wine and his own waste. And time after time you have cleaned him, changed his clothes and dried his tears. You have snuck his soiled sheets and clothes to the laundresses, since you know his maids report his every word and action back to his mother, and you want nothing more than to spare him to the best of your abilities from his elders’ wrath.

Some nights he clings to your body desperately, his fingers digging on your hips as he begs you to stay. And you comply, unwilling to pile more sorrow on him and incapable of denying anything to those wide, sad eyes. 

He doesn’t say word, but you don’t need any to heed his call for help. You undress him easily, unbuttoning his doublet and undoing the laces of his breeches, leaving his clothes carefully folded on a nearby chair, the boots neatly by the side. When he remains in only his linen shirt and smallclothes, you put the bed together around him, tucking the sheets and smoothing the blankets as you quietly sing a lullaby, the same you use to put his twins to bed every night. It has the same calming effect on him as it had on them; the soothing of your voice halting his tears and making him relax his posture as he lets himself be cared for and pampered by your tenderness. 

Once he has settled comfortably, you lay by his side. Aegon immediately scoots closer to you, his head burrowed against your bosom and one arm draping around your waist. You trace his swelling cheekbone with featherlight touch. Whoever has slapped him has put quite a lot of anger into it, most likely his grandsire. It is not the first time things have gotten physical between them, and most certainly not the last. It seems the Hand thinks he can beat his grandson into the Prince he wants him to be.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Aegon often chooses to seek comfort and just push his problems to the back of his mind, but you still encourage him to voice his woes. More often than not he prefers to remain silent, but you always offer him the space to speak freely and without consequences should he want to. To know he won’t be judged or chastised, and he will only be met with the tenderness he deserves.

Long seconds linger in absolute silence before his voice breaks through, weak and constricted “They have found me a bride”

You only nod, not needing to ask more. Ever since Aegon’s first wife had passed, scarcely 3 nights after the birth of their twins, his grandsire and mother had pushed him to pursue another wife, a lady from a strong House to garner their support when the time came. Originally his mother had wanted him to marry Helaena, to strengthen his claim to the throne, but then the King intervened. The only time he put his foot down instead of letting his council rule on his behalf, and he did it to betroth Aegon to a branched out lady of House Velaryon, while promising Helaena to Aemond. While the siblings’ marriage flourished, Aegon found himself tied before the Gods to a woman he couldn’t love, to the extent it took 6 years for them to conceive, and she only lived enough to name them. 

At your silence, Aegon clings tighter to your body, his freshly blossoming tears dampening the front of your dress “I don’t want to, they can’t make me” His sniffs, and you notice him pressing his lips tightly together to force himself to be quiet.

You shush him, smoothing back his damp hair “You have to, sweetling. You are a Prince, and you have duties to your mother and family” Your words make him tense again, fisting your dress as he exhales loudly through his nose. 

“I have no duties, I am not the heir, I am just a failure they are stuck with. I’ve done everything they wanted of me, and still my mother won’t ever look at me with pride” Another conversation had one and a thousand times. As the firstborn male, all eyes turned to him when the King’s health began to fail, and even though he still lingers, he hangs only by a very fine thread. And the Hand has everything prepared to land the crown upon his own bloodline, whether his grandson wants to or not. And he most certainly doesn’t want to. 

You don’t argue, knowing that any attempt of contradicting him would only circle you back to the same arguments. You only let him speak, let it all escape his chest. But he has few words that day. There’s not much to say that has not been said already.

“Father never loved me. Grandsire only sees me as something at his disposal to use at convenience. Mother does not love me any more than what she is obliged to” His eyes meet yours, wide and adorable and terribly sad “I only have you. Just you. If they make me marry I won’t let you go. You cannot abandon me” His words carry an urgency and fear you hadn’t heard on him before. A deeply rooted terror of losing the only person who has not touched him with violence

You press tender kisses to his forehead, your touch gentle and warm “You will always have me, sweet boy. To the end of times. If they send you to the end of the world, I will be right behind you, taking care of you. If they put you on the throne, I will be at your feet as your most loyal servant”

Those reassuring words coax a smile out of him, a smile only meant for you. It is not often these days that Aegon is seen smiling, only in rare instances when he is with his children or with Sunfyre. All the others are reserved just for you. 

Another comfortable silence lingers between you two, eyes locked with one another as your fingers card through his blonde tresses, his breath becoming a little sharper every time you accidentally tug on a knot. His hands snake up your front, stopping just in the curve of your breasts as he waits for your permission. You easily undo the very first button, allowing him the pleasure of doing the rest. 

It takes him no time to have the front fully unbuttoned, pushing the fabric away to reach the object of his desire. The dazzled look he gets on his face whenever he stares at your bare breasts never fails to amuse you, as if he is staring at the most wonderful thing the world has to offer. His lips quickly find home around your perked nipple, releasing a satisfied sigh as he suckles at your milk, his hand cupping the free breast and massaging it lovingly, swiping his thumb over the hardened peak. You let out a content sigh, settling comfortably on the pillows as you watch Aegon nurse enthusiastically, barely stopping to breathe. 

It had been after one of his many nights out that he first found comfort that particular way. Smelling of cheap perfume, even cheaper spirits and covered in vile things you didn’t wish to identify he had returned, and once more you had been by his side, putting his broken pieces back together and trying to not let his cracks be seen by the world the next morning. His hands had roamed your body, as they often did, a touch you glady allowed; he had never once done one thing you didn’t let him do, not even while being so deep in his cups he couldn’t say his own name. He had rested his face against your bare chest, inhaling deeply the musk of your skin while he toyed absently with your breast. A sharp pinch to your nipple had coaxed out some droplets of milk, which he collected on his thumb and brought to his lips. He repeated the process several times before crossing eyes with you, searching your face for any sign of rejection, but you only smiled and helped him get comfortable in your lap as he latched onto your breast for the first time. Nothing could quite calm him like that afterwards.

The prince at your breast lets out small sounds of satisfaction and content sighs as he grips your flesh tenderly, massaging it to coax more of the rich liquid to come down. At first you think he is relaxing and perhaps close to falling asleep, but then you notice his free hand down his body, palming his erection over the sheet. His teeth graze the engorged bud of your nipple ever so delicately, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, accompanied by a growing dampness between your thighs. You rub them together discreetly, seeking some form of friction as you continue to watch Aegon clumsily touch himself, trying to balance his need for pleasure with the attention he is lavishing upon your tits. 

His whines take a desperate edge while he humps his own hand, his movements faltering since he doesn't know where to focus. Instinctively your hand moves slowly down his torso and under the sheets; you gently push his away and wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few tentative pumps.

“Do you want Mommy to take care of this?”

Both of you stop for a moment, eyes wide, and he even drops your breast in shock. He had very occasionally called you ‘mommy’, mostly ironically when you had ordered him around, or more intimately when you did certain things like tug on his hair or grip him a bit tighter. But you had never used the term that way, and by the way his cock throbs in your hand, the idea excites him as much as it does you. You give him a firm squeeze, making him jump on the bed

“I asked you something, sweet boy. I taught you how to use your words. Do you want Mommy to take care of your problem?”

Aegon swallows visibly, eyes still wide. His lips move rapidly, but no sound comes out other than a pathetic mumbling as he tries to unscramble his brains. He finally gives up and just nods, looking up pleadingly. But you don’t cave in and give him a firmer squeeze, earning a whimper from him

“Words” You say firmly, but without sounding too harsh. You don’t want to take him too far and make him scared. But you are also deeply curious on how far you can take this little jest. 

It seems to take all his strength to push out every word “Yes Mommy, please” He sounds so small and defenceless, bordering on innocence. If you didn’t know him much better you would believe him a man that has rarely laid with women. 

Encouraged, you stroke his hard cock slowly, swiping your thumb across the leaking head to gather the already forming drops and smearing them down his length. Aegon’s hands are everywhere, on your face, on your breasts, on your shoulders, pushing the rest of your dress out of the way to free more of your skin. He grips your hips, squeezes your thighs, seeks in your body an anchor to life as his face scrunches in pleasure. His breaths become ragged and you see his abdominal muscles tensing as he approaches climax. But as soon as you feel the familiar twitching you let go of him, your hand resting on the curve of his thigh. 

His eyes shoot open and he half sits, staring at you with a mix of desperation and indignation. He whimpers quietly, shifting his hips to try and get under your delicious touch again, but you slap his thigh gently to keep him still.

“No moving. Mommy is taking care of you and you don’t move unless I say so.” Your tone is low, whispering the words as you press your forehead against his, gazes locked on each other. The black of his eyes has widened, making the purple seem darker, and the tears have dried at last. All that remains is lust mixed with submission, all of it just for you.

You gently caress his stones, watching in amusement as gooseflesh spreads across his skin at the touch, his legs instinctively spreading wider to grant you better access. You trace your index up his length, following the path of the throbbing vein prominent on the underside of his cock, while he fists the sheets, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You lean down to kiss him, letting him drown his moans against your welcoming mouth when you finally pump him, keeping the pace steady.

Again you stop just seconds before he reaches climax, earning an even more desperate whimper from him.

“Mommy, please, it hurts, I want to-” His words are cut short when your free hand takes hold of a fistful of his hair, just enough to feel the pull in his scalp. The moan comes from the depths of his chest when you brush your lips against his ear.

“Are you a good boy? A good boy for Mommy?” 

He nods eagerly, his hands cupping your face to keep you close.

“I will be good Mommy. Please, please it hurts” His eyes gloss over, and his lower lip trembles again. He looks so pretty you struggle in your heart to carry on with this little game, even though he seems to enjoy it. And you are enjoying it too, so much you feel is unfair you are missing out on the best part.

You pull away just enough to drop your dress to the side, your smallclothes following suit. With Aegon flat on his back, it is easy for you to straddle his hips, letting the head of his cock snuggle in your slick folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when you rock your hips, gliding the heat of your cunt along his length. You take a slow pace, dragging out the moment as much as possible. But while you are in no rush to finish, Aegon is in a desperate hurry, pushing against your hips and mewling desperately to urge you on. When he tries to grab your hips you smack his hand away and lean in, so close your breaths mingle. 

“Stay still, sweet boy. You don’t want Mommy to get angry and leave you like this, do you now?”

“But Mommy” He pants heavily, beads of sweat gathering in his temples “I need it, please. I will be good. I need to be inside you. Please” 

You click your tongue, a smirk pulling at your lips. You smooth back his hair and press a kiss to his hairline, an almost soothing touch.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. But you have to keep being good and do as you are told, sweetling. If you are extra good, Mommy will let you spend inside her” 

With that promise in mind, Aegon does his best to stay still, but you don’t make it easy for him. The rhythm is tantalisingly slow, coming to a halt every time you or him get too close to climax. His desperation grows to uncharted levels, fingers digging on the mattress, fists so tight on the sheets his knuckles turn white, lip bitten so strongly between his teeth it leaves an imprint. Tears bead in the corners of his beautiful eyes and roll down, dampening the sheet underneath. When you stop for the umpteenth time and a sob racks his chest, you know he’s ready.

You sit back on your haunches and watch him carefully. His hair is toussled from how much he has trashed on the bed, his face puffy and tear streaked, the flush of his cheeks spreading down to his chest. His cock is angrily red and leaky, impossibly hard and coated in your juices. Every muscle on his body is tense like a bowstring ready to fire. You touch his taut abs, rubbing the aching muscles soothingly.

“You have been such a good boy for Mommy, so good. You deserve your prize” 

The moan he releases as you line his cock with your entrance, sinking slowly until he is buried to the hilt, has surely been heard throughout the entire Keep. Encased in your tight heat, it takes no more than a few rocks of your hips for him to peak, back arching off the mattress dramatically as he screams his release to the vaulted ceilings, painting your walls with his spend. But you are not quite there yet. You continue to ride him, now at a dizzying pace, chasing your own release. His whines reach a new high, having barely time to recover from his groundbreaking climax. His abused cock is almost too sensitive to touch, and the drag of your cunt around him feels like fire climbing up his spine; the most deliciously tortuous fire. 

Your hips and thighs begin to ache from the exertion, but you are so close, and seeing your sweet Prince so ruined it's definitely spurring you on. You shift your angle just a bit, so the head of his cock brushes against a certain spot inside you that makes you feel like you can touch the stars, all while your fingers circle your neglected pearl. It takes no more than a few thrusts before you climax, your walls tightening around him and somehow drawing out a second peak from him, even though you are sure he doesn’t have much more left to give you. You ride out your release, halting only when the burning on your thighs becomes too much to ignore. 

You slide off and lay next to Aegon, who appears to still be waiting for his soul to return to his body. His eyes are wide, some stray tears still rolling, his breaths heavy and slow. When he whines quietly and turns to you, you reward him with a sweet smile and a tender, brief kiss upon the lips. Aegon snuggles into you, just like he likes it best, his face buried in your cleavage as he catches his breath. You rub his back in slow, soothing circles; he closes his eyes, his lips seeking and finding your nipples once more

While he suckles you lean closer, tracing his features with your fingertip

“You were such a good boy. So good for me. Mommy is so proud of you” 

The gentle praise goes straight to his heart, that much you can tell in the way he hugs you with his entire body and the upward turn of the corner of his mouth. You know he is tired, and perhaps his body is urging him to sleep. But to do that he needs one last little nudge

“Mommy will always be with you, my sweet Prince”

[leviathanleva]

Daisy

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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

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Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Chapter 1 "The Savior"

Since the day you were born, there was something horribly wrong with you.

You had no immune system, your skin was paper-thin, you couldn’t exercise without collapsing, and every nerve in your body was in constant pain. There was no use for you aside from being a measly archive keeper and book transcriber. Your father was a weak man, despite your disabilities and how costly it was for the rest of your Vault, he kept you alive, consumed by the idea of finally finding a cure for his little girl.

Every single moment since your birth, you had spent in this squeaky clean, insanity-inducing, paper-ridden medical room. Everything was plagued by the stench of medicine and spirit, disinfected down to the core. The floor and walls and even the ceiling were covered in a leather cushioned layer to prevent any injuries, sparkling white, of course. Who needed color when the stench of new paint might cause you a migraine?

In honesty, you’d give away half of your miserable life just to see color outside of the packaged book covers stacked neatly on the floor. You built a makeshift city out of them, following the pictures drawn in an old magazine you’d read ages ago and kept hidden under your pillow. With time, you learned how to make paper flowers out of some stray files that nobody would miss. You had to find some solace, something to keep you from crying your delicate heart out every night because this was no way for anyone to live.

You weren’t just isolated from the world above, but from everything, only getting glimpses of the bright metal vault corridor and bustling dwellers whenever your father would open that wretched vacuum-sealed door to give you medicine. You knew people’s names and faces, everyone in your vault was memorized to the letter, but you’d never met them and probably never would.

You were never given your own Pip-boy, never assigned as a potential marriage candidate, and you’d never have children or any family once your parents passed away. A small part of you knew that you wouldn’t even outlive them, frail and genetically inferior as you were. You’d die within the next few years and you’d take the burden of your existence off the shoulders of everyone who worked tirelessly to find a solution to your illness.

You waited for that day with hope, dreaming of the end of the torture and solitude.

You had pleaded with your father that night with angry tears in your eyes to at least bring you coloring pencils or crayons or a radio to chat with the rest of the residents and make friends. But, as usual, he had refused gently while rocking you in his arms, cooing at you with a regretful tone and pain carving deep wrinkles in his features. Then he’d smiled at you, melting away your worry and frustration and misery, and he’d kissed your forehead tenderly. He still treated you like a little girl and to him, you’d always be one. He wiped your tears away and hope shone in his eyes, they looked exactly like yours, that was the only thing you’d taken from him. Everything else was a gift from your mother and you often looked in the mirror just to remember what she resembled.

She’d stopped visiting a long time ago, months, maybe even years, you weren’t sure. The passing of time was a fickle matter when you were caged in a cushioned prison every single day.

Your father hummed softly, lulling you while he gently tucked you into the nursing bed and secured the oxygen mask over your mouth. He was your angel, your only salvation, your only source of conversation and comfort and interaction and love. He adjusted the catheter back into your vein before fluffing up your pillow.

“This might be it, sweetheart.” he whispered while watching you doze off slowly, his gaze held such affection for you. He placed a new IV bag to drain into your arm, one you’d not seen before, but you trusted him. This was nothing new. He came up with a new medicine recipe every month, without fail. “This might just be the cure. You’ll tell me how you feel tomorrow.”

You can only sigh and give your best smile, unable to share his enthusiasm after so many failed attempts. He rubbed a thumb over your sickly-colored cheek, his skin like sandpaper against yours, worn and calloused from spending a lifetime in the vault’s field.

“Have some faith in your old man.”

“I do, dad…I’m just so tired of this…”you bite into your tongue to keep more tears from spilling, and your bottom lip trembles despite your best efforts to tame it. Watching his face falter breaks your heart and you suck it up, push your tantrum down and pout instead. “And you’re not old.”

He laughs at your whiney remark, the first laugh he’d had in a long time, and he slicks back your hair, taking note that he needed to trim it soon before it got too long. Maybe when he had the energy, he’d sit down for more than a few minutes and braid it like he used to when you were just a child.

“I know you are, baby girl, I know.” he shushes you with the utmost care and stands. “Just a little longer and you’ll be strong enough to help your pop pick out the tatoes. Get your pretty hands all dirty and then have a big plate of spam for a job well done.” he gazed at you, masking his sorrow and bitterness at the cruelty life had forced upon you. His hand hovered over the lamp switch and he glanced one last time at the brand-new IV bag slowly emptying in your bloodstream. “Night, sweetheart. Love you.”

Too stricken with grief over your miserable lifestyle, you didn’t return his tender words, hoping he understood and knew that you loved him just as much if not more. When the lights went out, your eyelids closed, squeezing out a few lonely tears in the darkness before you begrudgingly drifted off to sleep. A dreamless slumber when you were gently rocked through the foggy confines of your subconsciousness.

Your one wish was to see the world outside, uncaring if it were a wasteland or a paradise, ignorant of the dangers and naïve towards the people who potentially lived up there. You just wanted to be free, even if it would cost you your life, you wanted to see the sky just once, wanted to prove to yourself that no, it looked better than any picture your father had shown you. You wanted to swim in the ocean and see fishes and see a whale, a creature so big it was unfathomable to imagine, you wanted to taste the salty sea water and become sick and just be happy to be alive for once. You wanted to feel the grass beneath your feet, to touch snow and dance in the rain until you slipped and fell in a puddle only to splash in it because you’d never seen or felt any nature.

You just wanted to live…

The hours ticked by in a hazy blur as you lay lifelessly on your bed. Your room was partly sound-proof, you heard nothing of the ruckus slowly brewing beyond your medicinal prison. Sleepy soundly, you didn’t hear the slaughter, the begging and pleading voice on the brink of crying before the sickening cracks of broken bones. You didn’t hear the crazed ramblings of the raiders stalking your fellow vault dwellers like it was a game of cat and mouse. Your vault was slowly succumbing to chaos and rampage and it was only when the electricity went out and your door unlatched that you were startled awake.

You bolt up with wide eyes and in a panic, gaze averting to the door and heart skipping a beat when you realize it’s open. With a small grunt and a relieved inhale once the oxygen mask is ripped from your face and tossed on your pillow, you scramble to stand. The IV is disconnected from your arm with an expert touch, replaced by a cotton ball to obscure any heavy bleeding from the open puncture wound. Your bare feet shuffle over the soft floor, slippery against the white leather because you’d unknowingly started to sweat from anticipation.

Was this just another cruel dream?

You walked to the exit with timid footsteps before opening the door wide enough to stick your head out. An incessant voice kept repeating how disappointed your father would be if he saw you sticking your nose out and potentially catching an infection from the unsterile air. That voice was dismissed promptly, this was your first chance at seeing anything beyond the medical room and you’d rather die than miss it.

Had the power gone out? But that was impossible. The power never went out, there had always been a steady flow of electricity for as long as you could remember.

The lights flickered, most were broken, letting the eerie darkness overwhelm all corridors except for one.

“Hello?” you call out hesitantly, shaky voice hoarse with sleep and anxiety both. Looking around, you couldn’t see much, there wasn’t a soul in sight and the silence was deafening. “Dad?”

Nothing. Nothing and no one.

A hand clutched at the door to support your buckling knees and you breathed deeply, encouraging yourself to be brave, that this was your chance. After dutifully gnawing on the inside of your cheek you stepped forth into the crossroads of corridors, letting go of the door and leaving everything familiar and safe behind. Your head whirled so much your neck popped multiple times as you frantically looked around in the scarce light and as terrifying as all of this was, it was also heaven unknown. You had never seen so many things – plant pots, plants, all bright green and juicy, you’d stuck your nail in a particular one only to feel a strange gooey discharge on your finger. It was a succulent, you’d read about those somewhere, very sturdy indeed, very pretty, but had no smell. You liked them already.

The further you went, the more a nagging thought kept creeping up your spine like a chill.

Where was everybody?

You kept looking, following the corridor and under the guidance of blinking lamps. You knew the Vault like the back of your hand after spending countless hours studying its diagrams, having nothing better to do. Now you were experiencing it in person. No longer needing to strain your imagination to picture every nook and cranny, you could see it with your own eyes. The floor was so cold under your feet, but you didn’t care, too high on adrenaline and pure joy to notice such a small inconvenience. A hand glided absentmindedly against the wall, tracing over pipes and posters and glass windows until you prickled your finger on a jagged edge and winced away.

You stuck the winger in your mouth with a pained scowl and glared up, searching for the source of your misfortune.

You froze.

Blood, everywhere, oozing down the wide hole in the window and silently gushing out of the disemboweled corpse of a human being, still warm. And even through the liters of blood and the sickening feeling of nausea that had your eyes dart to the floor, you immediately noticed the dark blue suit they were wearing. A dead vault dweller tossed through the window so hard they’d broken through and gotten impaled on the glass.

A vault dweller.

Dead…

DEAD!!!

You stumbled back and wretched, stuffing your mouth in the crook of your elbow and sputtering saliva as your stomach churned with bile. You bumped into a metal cabinet in your stupor, scraping for purchase as your legs lost all function, knocking over a clock and a radio that came to life as soon as it hit the floor. The sound echoed through the Vault, like a haunting melody to the arrival of a new victim, lured out and ready for slaughter. You.

Horror. A massacre, as the light flickered your eyes feasted on more marred flesh and ripped skin and so much blood. Crimson splatter and trails of handprints were strewn over the walls, the echoes of an dire struggle which ended in vein, trails of violence were etched into the hallway. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you threw up, clutching at your stomach as you let out the traumatizing sight the only way your body knew how. Doubled over and twitching as the shock was replaced by such a raw feeling that you nearly lost your mind.

Corpses littered the floor beyond, caked in their own entrails, skulls bashed in, unrecognizable and still and…

“Hi there, princess.”

A chill went up your spine as you realized that the frilly white dress you wore wasn’t enough to keep you warm beyond your room. Your skin littered with goosebumps, thin hairs standing up in fear as you stiffly craned your neck and looked back to the other end of the corridor. What little color was left in your face dissipated at the sight.

A man, disfigured and disgusting, with wild hair and wilder eyes and a grin that shook you to the bone stood there. He was shirtless, showing off a large hairy belly and covered in stick-poke tattoos, one of his legs was replaced by what you made out was a metal stick of sorts. He was three times your size…and he looked at you with such perverse intent that you nearly screamed. A vile creature, not even human anymore.

“Don’t be scared, pretty.” he leered, chapped lips and rotting teeth and a foul blackened tongue, and raised a large palm in front of him to halt you from moving. “It’s okay…Come here. Come to me.”

Instinct took over and you automatically stepped back, not daring to take your eyes off him.

“Ah, don’t do that now.” he warned sweetly and slowly began walking towards you, creeping closer every time the lights flickered off. “You’ll just make this harder for you, yeah? Come to Eddie, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

Everything about him screamed evil. He looked deranged and capable of things you’d never even begin to imagine.

A surface dweller. A survivor. A killer. A monster.

The moment his boot sunk in a pool of blood and squeaked against the floor realization hit you like a speeding truck. The grim expression should have been his sign to catch you, but you were already leaping over corpses with a blood-curdling screech. Your mind raced as you tried to orientate yourself through the corridors, bolting over shattered glass and spoiled food and so many dead bodies.

You needed to get out. Leave. Escape.

OUT!

His hollars bellowed behind you, alerting the rest of his friends because of course there were more and now they were aware of you and hunting you down like a deer in the forest. You let the tears run down your cheeks, forced the questions of your parents’ whereabouts and health because you already knew the answers, but you let them sink you’d end up like them or worse.

A horde of footsteps nipped at your bare heels and you sprinted and begged your weak little legs to go faster. Sucking in air as adrenaline pumped through your veins like poison, you jumped and ducked and whirled and assured yourself that you had the upper hand here, you knew the vault better than them. You stood a chance, you’d survive.

When the elevator came into view after you rounded a corner you nearly cried out in delirium. A roar nearly deafened you and you flinched, but your pace only increased as you pleaded and struggled not to trip over your feet. They were desperate, clawing at the air to try and reach you before it was too late. Your lungs burned with strain, your muscles felt like they’d tear any moment, but you kept pushing, high on horror and anger and a newfound zest for self-preservation

Salvation. Your only chance to live.

Your shoulder screamed in pain when you slammed against the metal walls of the elevator and thrusted your fist against the button vigorously.

“Come on. Come on. COME ON!”

“Get back here you little whore!”

“Please!” you wailed, screaming and stumbling back when a rusty axe collided with the shutting doors and made sparks fly with an ear-piercing screech. A hand flew up to cover your squinted eyes, sneering and sobbing as the raiders banged on the outside of the elevator and shot conniving curses at your crumbling form. You were slammed down on your arse by gravity as the elevator finally moved, taking you away from certain death as a slew of grim promises were expelled at you from below.

They’d find you, rip you apart, and make you wish you’d just died like the rest of your pathetic vault dwellers. You balled your eyes out, choking on spit and tears and gulping down air as your body shook violently. Clutching at your face, you stared down at your bloody feet with wide, unblinking eyes.

What was this nightmare…

When the elevator came to a halt and the doors reopened you barely managed to stand, the numbness in your limbs proving too much to handle and your upset stomach only contributing. But you had to keep moving, you had to run.

“Daddy…”

With ugly sobs and meek noises of strain and discomfort and utter distaste for your cruel fate, you tumbled towards the ajar vault entrance. Pressing down the button timidly before taking the discarded Pip-boy from the severed hand, you lock your tormentors into their grave and hurriedly tread towards the slowly closing vault exit.

The sun nearly blinds you and the hot desert sun knocks you to your knees as your hands sink to the wrists in sand. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking rapidly and shielding your sensitive pupils from the blaring light.

It’s…barren.

A desert, stretching as far as your sight could reach, heated enough for the air to wiggle and dance in the distance, a decrepit city can be seen nestled not too far. A plethora of buildings crumbled to their bases hide away the sealed entrance to your vault, bones are scattered through the coarse sand, human shapes frozen in time, hinting towards a previous era of life on Earth, an era you’d only read about. Again, there wasn’t a soul around no matter how many times you circled your vision.

A wasteland. Painted yellow and orange and contrasting so beautifully with the clear blue sky.

You wanted to marvel and swoon and you would have given any other circumstance, but now, after everything you’d seen, after your mind had been so brutally defiled with images of slaughter, you were incapable. You stood, resisting the harsh breeze and angry sun, clad in nothing but a Pip-boy and a thin summer dress that was everything but white.

You had to walk, seek help, do…something. Anything.

And so you did. Trudging through the sea of sand and stepping hastily as the heat beneath your delicate feet nipped uncomfortably at your skin. Sweat clung to you like a protective layer, washing away any trace of the sensitive lavender shampoo you had used the previous night. Strands of hair clung to your flushed face as you fought a silent and unfair battle against the burning sunrays, one step at a time, with the wind as your only companion. Your nostrils struggled to breathe in enough air, but you didn’t dare open your mouth despite the temptation, fearing dehydration and death as it loomed over you like a shadow.

You walked for what felt like miles, accompanied by your thoughts and nothing else, until the Vault was hidden behind the golden dunes and your feet felt raw. The city was so close now, yet you were so tired, sucked dry by a heat you’d never experienced before, if it hadn’t been for your Pip-boy crackling to life you would have collapsed, too burdened and weak to continue.

You raised your wrist and looked down and were met by a familiar meter.

Radiation.

Something around you was radioactive enough for the device to pick up easily, but there was nothing but waves of yellow hell and you doubted the ground itself was emitting it. Then you heard it. That strange, high-pitched chirping, an alien sound that made your skin crawl and scraped at the back of your head tauntingly.

A scream loud enough to shatter glass ripped through your throat as a sharp sting pierced your ankle. You hit the soft sand with a whimper and rushed to turn on your back before kicking blindly at your assaultant. An ambush from below. Blood trickled from the gash, painting your skin a deep ruby red and spilling over the ground, luring out your predators like moths to a flame.

Insects, roaches too big to be real and too much for your fickle mind to comprehend crawled out of the sand. You’d fallen right into their trap, an unsuspecting victim, a banquet they’d probably not seen since they’d hatched.

Your heart pounded frantically, pulse thumping in the side of your neck as you flailed and screeched, chucking sand at them as they circled you. You wanted to run, every cell in your body fought for you to stand, but you couldn’t, you had no fight left. You’d die here, alone in this decrepit desert and eaten by giant cockroaches and this was going to be the story of your life. You sobbed so pitifully, so angry and bitter and bratty that after everything, this was to be your end. The world spun painfully fast and you wanted to vomit, but your stomach was empty and you only gagged.

With one last scream, you curled in a ball, covering your head with your arms and your legs protecting your belly, as one of the insects lunged forward.

When the gunshot rang in your ears you froze in place and time stopped. The roach flew back, slimy green entrails covering your form like a canvas. The other two hissed and you revolted at the noise, but they were shot a second later, blown to bits, dainty skittish legs twitching as the last few beats of life escaped them. The shadow of your savior dwarfed you completely, giving you respite from the cruel sun.

You roll over and sit up on your knees within a blink only to be met with the barrel of a gun too ratchet and rusted to belong to anyone but a wastelander. You recoil and blink through tear-heavy lashes before roughly adjusting your dress to try and cover your bare thighs from what you presumed was another man. The tip of the gun slid under your chin and guided your eyes up to feast upon your hero. You gulped and whimpered.

He was grotesque, like a man skinned alive and somehow survived, melted skin deformed his features and you’d bet your dinner there wasn’t a strand of hair under that worn cowboy hat. He had no nose, no eyebrows or even lashes, not a spec of hair. He grinned something awful down at you, looking at you like you were a fresh piece of meat, a delicacy among a table covered with rotten food. His stance was wide, torn dark cloth swaying dangerously in the breeze, he seemed almost aetherial in his own twisted and rugged way. You mewled softly as he turned your head from side to side with his gun, gently, mockingly, drinking you in from every angle as if you’d disappear if he so much as blinked.

Your hands clutched at the edge of your dress when he finally spoke and his voice made you inhale sharply and clench your jaw in anticipation.

“Well…Aren’t you a pretty little thing…”

(Listen, it's 7AM and I need sleep, but this mother trucker didn't want to leave me alone so have a chapter from my hastily strewn-together upcoming story. I'll post it on AO3 and probably here if it even happens. I'll fix mistakes later, don't eat me please.)

Chapter 2 >>>

Masterlist

[kaciidubs]

Before the After Party

❣ Summary: Who said that celebrating had to wait until the after party? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.2k ❣ Warnings: Semi-Public Sex [award show dressing room], slight dom! Hyunjin, smut, desperation, quickie, creampie, allusion to multiple rounds ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Hyunjin is referred to as Hyune, Baby, Reader is referred to as My Muse, My Love, this was a long time coming, i know ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“...Stray Kids!”

The sounds of your screams blended with the screams of the hundreds of Stays surrounding you as you watched the boys react to their name being the one called from the pool of other great artists nominated - tears of pride stinging at your eyes as you watched them get up to accept their award.

Listening to the heartfelt, and truly underprepared speech Chris was giving, your eyes scanned over each of the boys; your smile growing impossibly bigger at each of their expressions until you reached the end of the line - a sharp pair of eyes easily catching, and holding, your gaze.

Hyunjin tried his best not to react, but even from the VIP seats you could see the twitch in his lips as he stared at you - the almost break in his facade being enough for him to cut eye contact first, looking out to the audience in front of them.

Tuning back into the speech, clocking Felix’s voice now resonating through the speakers, you did your best to pay attention to the roll call of thanks he was listing but you found yourself looking toward a certain dance line member yet again.

To your non-surprise, his eyes were already set on you and you decided to challenge him, discreetly sending him a small flying kiss with a smirk - the thought of flirting so openly with him sending a chill down your spine.

He looked away again, giving you the peace of mind to catch the last few words of Felix’s speech before joining the audience in cheering for them one more time as they stepped away from the mic; but, as fate would have it, you looked back at Hyunjin one last time to catch him shake his head at you, eyes narrowing in a sign you’ve seen time and time again.

Their performance seemed to go by at the speed of light, and before you knew it you were taking the commercial break to fish your phone out of your clutch, catching a glimpse of the notification illuminating the top of the screen.

My Artist 💘: Dressing room 💌

Excusing yourself out of your seat - ever so thankful for the VIP pass Skijigi had given you - you made your way off of the side stage and into the hallway toward backstage; quickly spotting one of the Skijigi staff waiting for you with a small smile.

With a curt nod, and a brief rush of embarrassment because surely they know why your darling boyfriend summoned you, you let them lead you through the bustling hall until they stopped a few feet in front of a door labeled ‘Stray Kids’ - the rest was up to you.

“Thank you,” you hummed softly, ducking your head in a small nod before knocking on the door, “Hyune? It’s me.”

You barely had the chance to let your hand fall away from the door before it swung open, a hand wrapping around your wrist before you were being pulled into the dressing room with the door slamming shut not even a second later.

“Hyunj-!”

Your shocked gasp of his name was cut off with a pair of lips slotting against yours, your body being crowded against the wall with hands on either side of you caging you in - though, just as you started to get over your initial shock to kiss him back, he pulled away with a bright smile.

“We won.”

“Y-Yeah,” you blinked back at him, willing your heart to be still as a small smile found its way onto your lips, “you guys were ama-”

His lips met yours again in a ravenous kiss, taking the off guard opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, brushing against yours in a heated taunt that promised more.

Your hands flew to hold onto his shoulders, your knees daring to give out from under you with the way he was trying to devour you as if you were his favorite meal.

“Mm- Hyune-”

His right hand dropped to lift your leg, the skirt of your dress raising as he hooked it over his slim waist; slotting himself between your legs effortlessly and grinding against your clothed core.

You couldn’t hide the shivering moan that escaped you, your head falling back against the wall, leaving his lips to occupy themselves with the free real estate of your neck. “God, baby…”

“Want you,” he breathed against your neck, licking at the beginnings of a hickey, “can I? Can I have you, my muse?”

You didn’t even have to think twice, nodding quickly and bringing your hands to his face to move him away from your neck for another breathtaking kiss.

Guiding your leg back to the floor, he blindly led you away from the wall before leading you toward the closest surface he had memory of; the makeup desk spanning the opposite wall. With careful steps, it wasn’t long before your lower back pressed against the edge of the desk, a disgruntled hum vibrating into his mouth as you bit his bottom lip.

Hyunjin groaned, a low, velvety sound that had your toes curling in your heels, and he pulled away just enough for his lips to still graze yours, “We have to be fast - on top, or bent over?”

“On top,” you breathed, a hand cupping the back of his head, “bend me over when we get back to the hotel.”

A grin stretched his lips, and within seconds the beautiful designer dress you wore was hiked up your legs and hips and you were sitting on the sturdy platform of the desk, the award winning artist quickly filling the space between your thighs.

His arm slid between your bodies and his fingers quickly found the damp crotch of your panties, simply tugging the gusset to the side to run his middle and ring fingers through your lips; collecting your arousal on the digits before slowly sinking them past your walls.

Your head fell back, lips parting to let an airy moan flutter through until his hand covered the lower half of your face, undoubtedly getting what remained of your lipstick on his palm in the process.

“My love, as much as I’d give anything to hear your pretty sounds, we should probably be quiet too, shouldn’t we?”

He didn’t wait to hear your response as his fingers set a steady pace, aiming to work you open as efficiently as possible while muffled moans vibrated against his palm.

Your nails grazed against the buzzed cut of his nape, the reminder of his fresh cut making your pussy clench around his fingers.

Tilting your head back down, you were met with his piercing gaze immediately; fiery brown eyes studying every little detail in your face that remained free of his hand.

“Are you going to be quiet if I move my hand?”

Eyes softening, your eyebrows sloped together and you nodded as best you could - you would.

Hyunjin freed your mouth in favor of tugging down the front of your dress, the straps having already fallen from your shoulders, allowing him to easily free your breasts from beneath the neckline. Licking his forefinger and thumb, he quickly found purchase on your left nipple; rolling the nub with intermittent pinches that had your back arching, silently begging him for more.

All the while, his fingers were stilled inside of you in favor of his thumb now gently flicking across your clit, not enough to overstimulate you on pleasure, but just enough to have your legs trembling at his hips.

“H-Hyunjin.” The whine tumbled softly from you, holding more words than you could say without letting the flurry of moans slip through as well - and he heard you clearly.

Sliding his fingers from inside of you, this hand expertly fiddled with his belt until it went slack around his hips, the button and zipper of his pants coming undone in less than a minute before they were shoved down with his boxer briefs just enough for him to free his dick; hard, dripping, and aching for your warmth.

He spread the remnants of your slick along his length before gripping the base, wasting no time in pressing the tip against your folds and pressing his hips forward, slowly but surely sheathing himself inside of your pussy.

Your hand flew to your mouth in record speed, clamping it shut just as a loud, wanton moan began to escape you - you never stood a chance once he was inside of you, his dick reaching the deepest parts of you, and with this position he felt even deeper.

He chuckled knowingly, gazing at you with a warm fondness despite his hand now gripping your hip like a vice, “You’re okay, love, just keep your hand there for me.”

Nodding once again, your free hand moved to hold onto the back of his neck as he adjusted his other hand to cup your breast instead, your sensitive nipple now rubbing against the smooth inside of his palm.

Without another moment of delay, he dragged his hips back slowly, biting back a sharp hiss as pleasure shot up his spine, before snapping forward twice as fast; jolting your body against the desk and sending a few stray makeup tools and products rattling. Repeating the process made a few objects fall, but neither one of you had the heart to care - at least, not in the moment as he set on a fast and deep pace that filled the dressing room with the sound of his skin against yours.

Your palm vibrated with the moans that flowed freely from you, the attempt of keeping them contained now seeming like a joke  - part of you wondered if offering him a blowjob instead would’ve sufficed, but after being witness to his borderline animalistic rhythm, the blowjob would wait for the hotel.

Hyunjin gritted his teeth, his head bowed beside yours as he directed all of his energy toward fucking you, reveling in the pinch of your nails against his neck, and the unrelenting clenching of your walls on every inward thrust.

“T-Thank you,” he grunted breathlessly, the hand keeping you anchored on the desk squeezing you more, “thank you, thank you, my love. Thank you for s-supporting me, for believing in me- f-fuck- Thank you.”

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you locked him in for shallow thrusts, wanting him closer - needing him closer; if you couldn’t use your words, then you would use your body.

His hand slid to your lower back, dragging you to the edge of the desk and giving him a better angle to hit, “You’re everything to me - do you know that? My muse, I mean it.”

Your hand slid up to his hair, past his undercut and into the once beautifully done ponytail, partially sliding the hair tie out of place in the process.

“N-No matter how many awards we win,” he lifted his head, prompting you to open your eyes and lock onto his entrancing gaze, “you’ll always be my greatest win.”

Dropping your hand, you pulled him into an earth shattering kiss, teeth and tongues clashing as your orgasm took you by storm; the only indicator being the rapid fluttering of your pussy around his cock.

He moaned into your mouth, releasing your breast to cradle the back of your neck - one, two, three thrusts rocking your body before he stilled with a choked groan, his dick twitching as his cum coated your walls.

As your breaths slowly came to a calm, so did the feverish motions of your lips, Hyunjin parting with a few pecks and gently untangling himself from your hold.

“How was it? Are you okay?”

Huffing out a breathless laugh, you gave him a glittering smile, “It was amazing, Hyune, and I’m more than okay, but I think we should clean up and head back to the others.”

Returning your smile, he slowly slid his softening length out of you, shivering slightly at the overstimulation before groaning at the bead of cum that budded from your slit.

Clocking the way his tongue peaked out to lick his lips, you laid your hand on his chest with an incredulous laugh, “No, we are cleaning up and meeting the rest of the boys!” You slid your hand from his hair and used it to tug your panties back into place, effectively cutting off his peep show for the time being.

“You’re no fun,” he pouted, tucking himself back into his underwear before working on fixing his pants back up.

“Oh, yeah?” Raising an eyebrow while managing to squeeze your breasts back into the slightly over stretched neckline, you cocked your head to the side, “I guess you don’t want to see what I have planned for the after party, then - since I’m no fun?”

The look of horrified betrayal that fell on his features was enough to send you into a giggle fit, which was more than enough for him to drop his act, giggling along with you.

After he helped you from the makeup desk, you helped him fix his ponytail while he used a makeup wipe to clear up any lipstick stains left on his skin - mourning their loss until you were both back in the safety of your shared hotel room.

“To the after party?” He mused, offering you his arm.

Looping your hand around it, you nodded happily, “To the after party.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[marvelfilth]

Angel (18+)

Pairing: stripper!Tara Carpenter x f! lawyer!reader

Warnings: no ghostface AU, Tara is 21, R is 27, smut, lap dance, pole dance, alcohol consumption, tipsy driving (pls don't do that), fingering, a bit of degradation and praise

Summary: You need to unwind. Angel gives you more than you could have ever asked for.

Masterlist

You've had a bad month. Scratch that, you've had the worst month of your career. You've lost one of your loyal clients to a rival and your boss chewed you out over it, and, to top it off, you've lost a case you've been working on for the past four months.

You blink back the exhaustion, leaning back on the railing of your office balcony. You've been nursing your whiskey for the past hour, hoping it'll chase away your gnawing thoughts, but to no avail, you're still deep in your head, rethinking every decision that led you to this.

You check your wrist watch, the platinum glistening in the city lights, and decide to finally head home. You finally relax once you're in your car, putting the key in the ignition and driving off, leaving the day behind. You take a familiar route, driving almost on autopilot and humming along to the song on the radio, fingers drumming on the wheel.

You're almost home when you change your mind and make a sharp turn on the next intersection, heading to a place you haven't been to in months.

Two men in the front greet you with identical nods, holding the door open for you, sensual music spilling into the bustling street. Your eyes zero in on the bar, not paying any attention to the stage and the dancers, happy to see a familiar face handling alcohol tonight.

"Tough day?" Amber asks with a sympathetic smile, placing a full glass in front of you.

"Tough month," you sigh, not in the mood for a conversation.

She offers one more smile before turning to another guest, sensing your desire to be left alone. Her eyes take on a new glint, lips slightly pursed in a cute pout as she talks to a clean shaved man. You scoff in your drink and shake your head, ignoring the glare she sends you.

Leaning back against the bar you settle to simply people watch for some time, maybe get a dance or two from a pretty woman.

"You should ask for Angel," Amber says, wiping the counter. You look at her in question, your glass stopping midway to your mouth. "She's new, but she's good. You could use some unwinding and she's the best at it, trust me."

You nod slowly and ask for a refill before leaving her a tip and walking off to a secluded booth in the back of the club, settling back on the couch and trying to find a new face in the sea of dancers you already know well. Out of the corner of your eye you see Felicity, a fiery redhead with no filter. She effortlessly glides on the dancefloor in her nine inch heels, red lingerie catching eyes of gaping men with pockets full of cash. She bends in a sensual move, her thong granting a perfect view of her round ass. You hum when money starts falling in waves, making the floor disappear. She deserves that and more.

She catches your eye, brow raising suggestively, to which you shake your head no.

"Waiting for someone?" A voice whispers right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your head turns to be met with the eyes of a stranger inches away from your own, lips painted blood red and pulled into a smirk.

You swallow, feeling the swell of her breasts against your arm that's resting on the back of the couch, and shake your head tersely, not trusting your voice just yet. She bites her lower lip and pulls away to slowly walk around the couch, making sure to show off her assets.

Almost all of her body is bare, her lacy push up bra making her breasts look good enough to throw handfuls of cash at her feet. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the full globes, then lowers to a dark red triangle of fabric between her legs held by a thin string. She takes her sweet time in caging you against the leather cushions, draping herself over your lap, hands settling on your shoulders.

You take this opportunity to study her features: the slope of her small nose; the freckles dusted all over her upper cheeks; her dark and inviting eyes, eagerly drinking you up with the same vigor; her full lips, painted red and waiting to be claimed.

She takes your whiskey and sips, expertly masking the distaste behind an alluring smile, but you still catch the way her eyes momentarily squeeze in a fleeting grimace, making you bite back a chuckle.

"I'm Angel. What's your name?" She purrs, hips moving to the beat as she plays with the hair at the nape of your neck. You see some men glare at you with jealousy, their jaws grinding. Angel must be fairly popular to grant a reaction like that.

"Does it matter?" You husk, struggling to keep your hands to yourself.

"Mysterious, huh?" She chuckles, arching against your chest, her barely covered breasts almost spilling out right in your face, hips moving in circles against your crotch. "I like that."

You hum, settling back to watch her flexible body roll against your slowly relaxing one, her lower lip pulled between pearly white teeth.

"There you go," she whispers, sliding her palm down your chest, her other hand tangling in your hair, nails scratching your scalp. It feels so good you almost purr. "Tell me what got you so wound up."

You sigh and take another sip of your drink before answering. "Lost my top client."

She hums, her torso moving in a slow hypnotic circle, before leaning back into you to whisper right in your ear. "Their loss."

She pulls back to look you in the eye, the space between you almost crackling with tension.

"Hey Angel," one of the men that's been glaring at you calls out, waving a couple of twenty dollar bills in the air. "Come give me a dance."

She doesn't even look in his direction, but you silently reach for your wallet, taking out three hundred dollar bills and pushing them under the string of her thong. "Stay."

Her eyes widen and she bites her lip before nodding. She throws her head back, hands leaving your shoulder to slide up her waist to cup her breasts, pushing them together inches away from your face. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you have to grip your thighs to keep yourself from touching her. She rises on her knees and changes the position, her back now to your front, ass snugly against your crotch.

You finish your whiskey in one gulp, your breath hitching. Her wavy hair gets in your face and you breathe in the enticing scent of her perfume mixed with the essence of her. She turns her head, looking at you with half lidded eyes. "You like that?"

"I do," you reply, noting the slight blush rising on her cheeks.

"Want to move somewhere private?" She asks, her eager tone cracking the unbothered facade she's been putting on.

You nod and follow her to the other side of the club, Amber sending you thumbs up from behind the bar before going back to flirting with another drunk man, crisp bills filling her pockets.

You're led to a dark hallway that leads to private rooms, anticipation buzzing under your skin. She nods at the security guard, the man looking you up and down before he lets you through. She locks the door and you wander deeper into the room, taking a seat on the velvety couch.

Sensual music starts spilling from the speakers before she turns sharply, a devilish smirk on her lips. She saunters to the pole, hips swaying in tune with the music, eyes never leaving yours as she hooks her leg over the metal and twirls. She closes her eyes, losing herself in the dance, and grips the pole before bending, back arched, the swell of her ass right in front of your face.

You exhale, nearly biting down on your knuckles from the need to turn her around and fuck her right on the floor. "Angel," you breathe out. She faces you and drops to her knees, legs spread as her hips move up and down, arms over her head as she grips the pole. "Yes?"

You pat your lap and without a moment of hesitation she climbs on top of your thighs, taking off her bra. You bite back a moan when her breasts spill out, pinkish nipples begging for your mouth. She takes hold of your neck, her forehead pressed against yours as she rocks her hips on your lap, her breathing labored. She weaves languidly against your tense torso, her lips brushing against your cheek before she pulls away to settle her hands on your chest, nails scratching your white shirt.

"Fuck," you close your eyes, enjoy the press of lithe body, arousal coursing through your veins. She hums, her center flush against your thigh and you feel her wetness smear on the fabric of your slacks. Your fingers clench uselessly at your sides. "You're enjoying this," you state, searching her face for an answer.

"More than you can imagine," she whispers, grinding down on your thigh with intent. Her nipples brush against your chest and she moans quietly, repeating the motion. You unconsciously thrust up, your pelvis connecting with her heat just as she is rolling down, sending pleasure through her body. She grabs your shoulders and your eyes lock. You thrust again, intentionally this time, your palms planted firmly on the couch to add force. Her hips rock, her needy moans filling your ears.

You can't take your eyes off her.

Fuck that, you think, before planting your hands on her hips, directing her movements, and pulling her into a feverish kiss. Her lips are impossibly soft, and her tongue tastes like whiskey and some fruity cocktail she's probably had earlier. Your hands move from her hips to her breasts, squeezing.

"Yes," she moans, greedily pushing against you. "More, please."

You hesitate only for a moment before lowering your mouth to her nipple, sucking it in with hunger you didn't know you possessed. She bites on her knuckles, hiding a loud moan from the guards behind the door. Your fingers itch with the need to tear off her thong and plunge deep into her soaking pussy, claiming the most vulnerable part of the petite brunette.

"How does that feel?" Your teeth graze against the underside of her breast before you take the other nipple in your mouth, tongue sliding on the hardened nub.

"Like I'm about to come," she whimpers, messily humping on your thigh. "Need you inside," she pleads, taking hold of your hand.

You follow her lead, your fingers easily pushing her thong aside and dipping between her slick folds, strands of wetness clinging to your digits. She buckles against your hand in search of friction, and you teasingly circle her clit, pulling a delicious moan out of her lips. "Like that?" You tease, even though you're as affected as she is.

"Yes- fuck, just like that," she whimpers.

"What about the rules, Angel? You gonna tell your boss about this?"

She shakes her head. "No, I promise. Fuck the rules." She desperately clings to your wrist, pressing your palm against her heat.

It's all you need to finally thrust your fingers inside her cunt. She cries out, biting your shoulder to hide the sound, and starts moving her hips up and down, meeting your fingers halfway.

"Such a bad girl you are, Angel. Riding a stranger like a slut," you grunt, fastening your pace. Filthy sounds fill the room as your fingers keep disappearing in her pussy, bringing her closer to the edge. Suddenly, a misplaced spark of jealousy ignites something deep inside your chest. "Do you do this with everyone, Angel? Do you spread your legs for strangers every night?"

"No," she gasps, tilting your face up and bringing you in for a kiss. "Just you," she moans against your lips, "only you."

The fire inside your chest burns. "Good."

Her walls clench around you, mouth wide open as she moans loudly. You force her mouth shut, pressing your palm against her lips, her eyes widening before they roll to the back of her head. Your thumb slides on her clit in tight circles, fingers curling to touch her sweet spot. She bites down on your knuckles, desperately chasing her orgasm, arousal dripping down her thighs. You add a third finger, stretching her tight pussy, and spread them inside.

"Come for me, Angel," you rasp, pushing deep inside. She cries out, squeezing around your fingers as she comes. She curls into you, hiding her face in the slope of your neck. "Good girl," you praise, kissing her temple, your fingers buried inside her wet heat.

There's a loud knock and a gruff voice sounds from behind the door. "Everything alright, Angel?"

She sits up, eyes wide and alert, and looks at the clock near the door. Your private session ended ten minutes ago.

"I- I have to go," she scurries away, putting on her bra on her way to the door.

"Wait," you call out, catching her wrist before she could touch the handle. "Stay, please."

Her eyes flicker to your lips before she throws herself at you, hands around your waist, kissing you with fervor. You press her against the door, trailing kisses all over her neck, wishing you could leave marks for her to remember you by.

There's another knock and a threat to break down the door. Angel pulls away with one last peck before disappearing behind the door.

The rest of the week goes better after that night. You feel like the burden that's been sitting on your shoulders got smaller, granting you more hours of sleep and allowing you to look your boss in the eye without feeling inferior. You can't help but think back on the girl that so easily brought this change on you. Sometimes when you're caught up in paperwork in the late hours of night you catch yourself wishing you were back in that private room, looking at her instead of some boring corporate nonsense. Your fingers squeeze around the pen with need to touch her again, to unravel her, to savor her taste.

On a Friday night you decide to leave the office early and head to the club, but a phone call stops you in your tracks.

"Hey, hope I'm not interrupting."

You smile, always happy to hear from your friend. "You're not, I'm… heading home early."

"Great. Perfect, actually. I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight? I'm making your favorite." Sam asks, and you can hear the sound of pans hitting the stove in the background.

"What's the catch, Carpenter?"

She groans, and you can almost see her slouch against the counter. "I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but Tara is studying to be a lawyer, and I thought maybe you could give her some pointers over dinner?"

You blink, surprised by the question. In two years of your friendship with Sam you've never met her younger sister. Even though they're living together, she's never home when you're over, working double shifts to afford tuition, adamantly refusing Sam's offers to help. She likes to complain about it from time to time, but you can see she's proud of the younger girl.

Angel will be there tomorrow, and you're actually excited to finally meet Tara. It doesn't take long for you to decide which way to go. You make a quick stop at a grocery store on your way there, buying Sam's favorite beer and a bottle of wine, thinking about offering her sister an internship. If she's even half as brilliant as Sam you want her on your team once she graduates.

When you finally knock on the door, expecting to see Sam on the other side, you feel wind get knocked out of you when the woman you've been thinking about since you left the club opens it.

"... Angel?"

_______________

Thoughts?

[megalony]

Baby-Trapped

This is an Evan buckley imagine requested by anon, I really enjoyed writing this and couldn't wait to post it! So you all have two imagines in one day. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) distances herself from Evan when the people at her college believe he shouldn't be with someone younger and inexperienced like her. But things change when she falls pregnant.

Enjoy.

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

"There's my girl, you okay?"

(Y/n) tilted her head back on the sofa at the sound of Evan's voice drifting softly through the apartment. She smiled softly when she watched him approach from the hallway.

Her eyes fell closed and she stayed still when Evan leaned over the back of the sofa and moved his hands to her shoulders. He gave a loving squeeze and pressed his lips against her temple. (Y/n) could feel each ragged breath he took and how his chest was heaving behind the sofa, against the back of her neck and head.

His lips curved into a smile against her temple and she felt his nose tickle her skin. He was sweating. Nothing new, he had just been out jogging like he usually did after a night shift.

"Hm, good shift?" She squeaked when Evan leaned over her and stole her lips for a searing, panting kiss. While Evan had been on the night shift, he said (Y/n) could stay here at his place, save her having to get the bus home and then come back up this way today for college.

"An easy shift, for a change. I got some sleep too, which is a shocker. Do you want a ride to class?" Evan wasn't used to getting an hours sleep in the bunker room at the station, but it had been such a lovely change to actually recouperate and sleep. He felt more alive for the small callouts they went on and it wasn't all hustle and bustle.

He felt lively enough when he parked up to head straight out on his run and get it over and done with. Now he would have the afternoon to either do some exercises or just relax and wait until (Y/n)'s class was over.

Their schedules hadn't aligned recently, Evan had picked up extra shifts at the station because they were down three people. And his shifts didn't match up with (Y/n)'s college classes. But they were making things work.

"You've just come home, I can walk, it's fine." (Y/n) uncurled her legs and slumped her feet back down to the floor, but she froze when Evan's arms suddenly caged around her. Both arms looped around her upper chest and his chest pressed into the back of the sofa so he could tuck his face into her neck.

When she felt his teeth graze her skin, her shoulders pulled up and she fought off a smile.

"No, I'll drop you off baby." What was the point in (Y/n) walking all that way if Evan could just drive her there himself?

(Y/n) nodded, but she could feel her smile trying to disappear. She didn't want the girls in her class to see Evan drop her off.

Two girls had already twigged that Evan was a firefighter, more specifically, one they had seen being interviewed multiple times on the TV. If he dropped her off, the rumours would get worse.

(Y/n) loved Evan. She loved him to the end of the Earth, he was funny, loving, caring and sweet and he made her feel like the only person worth loving in the world. But he was older than her. Evan had everything sorted, he had a steady job, a home, a car, friends his own age and all of his friends were already settled down and married and happy in their lives.

It never bothered (Y/n), until the girls in her class started talking about her. They seemed to think there was no point in Evan dating (Y/n). They acted as if he was with her out of pity or because he didn't know what he really wanted, and they thought (Y/n) was using him. If he took her to class, the girls would see and then everyone would just agree that (Y/n) was using Evan to her advantage.

"I'll grab a shower and get changed before we go. Care to join me?"

His lips trailed down (Y/n)'s neck until he was pressing wet, hollow kisses over her shoulder. And his hands slithered down her waist and scrunched up her shirt so his cold fingers could travel across her bare skin. His touch made her shiver and she tried to smile. It was tempting. It was more than tempting.

Getting a shower with Evan was always an exciting experience. (Y/n) could still feel the ache in her shoulders from last time where he picked her up and pinned her to the shower wall.

But if she turned up to class with wet, damp hair and smelling of Evan and sex it wouldn't go down well. Taking a shower with him would make her late, too. Time got lost when they were together and (Y/n) didn't want to be late. She only had a few months left of college and then she would have her degree. She could get a job and be done with the people in her class and feel more grown up and more suitable to be Evan's partner.

"No, I don't wanna be late."

"Baby…" He groaned into her shoulder while his fingertips slid into her jeans and wiggled past her underwear. He grinned like a catfish into her skin when she gasped and pushed back against him.

"Later. Go get ready."

She trailed her hand up to card her fingers through his damp curls, scratching her nails down his neck which made him bite down on her neck.

"Okay." Evan pulled away from her neck and moved his hands to her hips, but he could feel his smile fading when she didn't look at him.

She didn't usually turn his offers down. When she saw him after being separated by shifts and classes, (Y/n) usually attached herself to him. He didn't have to try to get her attention or fight for a kiss like this. Evan didn't like how (Y/n) was starting to distance from him. It was just the little things he was noticing and he was sure it was only because she was preoccupied with something.

He pressed his finger beneath her chin and turned her head so he could capture her in a quick kiss before he finally parted and headed upstairs to grab a change of clothes.

(Y/n) packed her notebooks and revision cards into her bag while she heard Evan hop in the shower.

She looped her bag on her shoulder and headed towards the kitchen. Her eyes cast towards the bathroom and she waited a second to make sure Evan wasn't about to walk out before she looked through her bag. Once she found the small square pill box, she popped one of the tiny orange pills into her hand and chugged it down.

She didn't want Evan seeing the box. He was a firefighter, he had medical knowledge and if he knew what she was taking, he would know what it was for. (Y/n) didn't want to tell him yet.

"Alright baby, are we ready?" Evan dragged his fingers through his hair, shaking loose the last few droplets of water before he looked down.

He fiddled with his belt, popping it through the tightest loop he could before he got his trainers on and looked towards the kitchen.

With his keys looped on his thumb, Evan held his other hand out towards (Y/n) and smiled when she entwined their hands and pulled his arm against her chest. She leaned her head on his shoulder and followed him out the apartment.

Evan spared a few glances at (Y/n) every now and then as he drove. He didn't like the distant, somewhat panicked look on her face. She had one hand tangled in her hair and her forehead resting against the window with her other arm around her waist and her knees pushed up.

He ran his hand along his jaw before he dared to reach out and place his hand on her thigh. When she didn't react nor push him away, Evan gave her thigh a squeeze and started gliding his fingertips up and down her inner thigh. He could tell his touch relaxed her somewhat, she stopped tensing her leg so tight and she shrunk down in the seat.

"What time do you finish, I'll come pick you up if you want."

"You don't have to, it's your day off babe-"

"Yeah, and I wanna spend some time with you. I wanna come get you, no one said I have to."

He wasn't asking because he felt obliged, he was asking because he wanted to pick her up. She was his girl and he would rather come get her than her having to walk or get the bus and if she ever wanted a lift, all she had to do was ask. Evan was never going to say no or be angry if she asked him.

"I finish at two." She murmured softly as she turned to face him. "Thank you."

(Y/n) sat forward in her seat and clicked her spine into place when Evan pulled up on the curb. She undid her belt and looped her bag over her shoulder before she turned to lean across towards him.

Her stomach jolted with adrenaline when Evan's hand cupped her jaw and his thumb pulled at her lower lip. His nose brushed hers and he stole a kiss, nipping at her lip so she couldn't pull away without a fight.

"I'll see you later, love you."

"Hm, good." He spoke quietly against her lips, stealing another two kisses until (Y/n) finally gave him a nudge in the chest so she could get out. "Love you too, see you later sexy."

Her lips curved into a grin that morphed with a gasp when she opened the door and felt his hand on her bum.

She gave the door a nudge, tightening her bag strap on her shoulder as she watched Evan drive away. As soon as Evan turned the corner, (Y/n)'s stomach gave an awful twist and she suddenly wanted to call out for him and make him turn around. She wanted to climb back into the jeep and go back home with him when a flock of familiar faces caught her eye.

Oh no.

It was the four girls from her class that (Y/n) tried her best not to hang around. The ones who were like little teenagers, always vying for attention from anyone, any boy, any teacher, any passing person. The girls who acted like gossip was the currency in this place and being nosey was their passtime.

"Hi (Y/n)."

"Hi," Her voice was quiet and meek as she pulled her bag closer and tried to power walk ahead. She wanted to get to class and get sat down before everyone else filtered in.

"Was that your fella?" When (Y/n) nodded, Carla smiled and moved to walk beside her. "He's a looker, how old is he? Looks like he's in his thirties."

(Y/n) cringed and tried to walk ahead, but it was no use. They were all going in the same direction, to the same class. She couldn't run ahead without them without causing a fuss or making them realise they unnerved her and she didn't want to be around them.

"He is, isn't he?" Sandra added in with glee when (Y/n) rolled her lips together and didn't respond.

"He's thirty-one." She kept her voice quiet and her eyes focused on the pavement as they headed towards the college building.

This was why (Y/n) hated being around people like them. They made such a fuss when it wasn't really anything to fuss about. Yes, Evan was older than (Y/n), but he was only nine years older than her. That wasn't such a big gap, (Y/n) knew people with twelve or even fifteen years between them. There was less than a decade separating her and Evan, and it wasn't like it was a bad thing.

(Y/n) wasn't a teenager still in school, she was almost finished with her college degree now and then she would be on the same path as Evan, finding a steady job like he had. And Evan didn't really act his age, nor did he actually look his age like Carla insinuated, she was only probing for information.

"Isn't he a firefighter?" Carla looked over her shoulder as if Evan was still sat there in his jeep. He would be halfway back home by now. He wasn't there for them to ogle at or play twenty questions with him like they were doing now with (Y/n).

They had seen him on the tv.

Evan had done a lot of interviews over the years, mainly just little ones to say the team had gotten a victim out alive or that everyone was okay and they had no casualties. But with all the stunts he had done on the job, he had been in the paper more than once.

"Well that's a way to further yourself."

Sandra's voice made (Y/n) stop in her tracks. She turned to the left and looked over at the blonde as if she had grown a second head. She was the one who kept talking whenever Evan dropped (Y/n) off. She was the one who said she couldn't fathom why someone like Evan was with a 'little girl like (Y/n)'.

"What?" What did she mean by that? What was she talking about?

"You can get to know a lot of people, being with him. I bet he's got a lot of connections. And that's good for your image, upcoming nurse latched onto a hot, older fireman."

"It's not-"

"I bet he's got his own place, right? That's why you always get a lift, you stay at his place?"

Her blood ran cold and Her knees started to shake as if they had turned to jelly. Why was she being like this? Why were the other girls agreeing with her? Why couldn't they just walk away knowing that (Y/n) was happy with Evan? This was nothing to do with them but they seemed to be poking their noses in because they wanted to stir up trouble.

"Because he's my partner." Her voice was low as her words seethed through gritted teeth. Evan was her partner, she had every right to stay over at his place when she wanted to see him and be with him. She practically lived there. Evan was always inviting her round and when he picked her up from class he automatically took her back to his place.

She only seemed to go home if Evan was on a long stint of shifts or if she wanted to get some more clothes and do some washing.

"I get it… you've latched onto a goldmine there."

A wave of sickness washed over (Y/n) and she pushed her feet to move faster before she collapsed down on her knees. She sped away from them and bolted down the corridor, not caring if anyone looked her way and wondered what on Earth she was doing.

It was none of their business about her and Evan. She was with him because she loved him. (Y/n) wasn't using Evan, she wasn't trying to be with him because she thought he would advance her career or introduce her to smart people. Or because he was older with his own money and his own place and a good job.

None of that was true, but it didn't matter because none of those girls were going to believe (Y/n). Not when they had it in their minds that Evan was a successful, handsome fireman who had no reason to be with (Y/n).

***

Sinking back on her heels, (Y/n) slumped her head back against the toilet wall and coiled both her arms around her waist. The back of her throat was aching and torn apart from how much she had just thrown up and the acidic taste in her mouth made her grimace.

She was going to make herself late for class if she stayed in here much longer. But on the other hand, (Y/n) couldn't go into class if she still felt like she had more to throw up. Being sick in class was the last thing she needed right now.

Her hands moved to the wall and she used it as leverage to stand up on shaking legs. She grabbed her bag from the hook on the wall and unlocked the door, stumbling out the cubicle over towards the sinks.

Leaning over, she took a few sips of water from the sink before she moved her bag and rummaged around for the familiar box of tablets.

(Y/n) barely took the tiny orange tablet before the toilet door opened and someone walked in.

"You look rough."

(Y/n) refrained from rolling her eyes and took another sip of water to wash the tablet down. Her eyes widened and a gasp rolled past her lips when Sandra suddenly grabbed the box from her hands.

What was she doing? Why was she taking (Y/n)'s tablets? How rude could she get to lean across and snatch them from her like she thought they were illicit drugs instead of prescribed medication.

"Oh, well done."

"Leave me alone." (Y/n) snatched the box back so tightly she began to crumple the cardboard in her grip. She tossed it back in her bag and closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm and not shed any tears here in front of someone she was growing to despise.

She didn't want anyone finding out. She hadn't even talked to Evan yet. That was why she kept the folic acid hidden in her bag so Evan wouldn't see. If he saw them, he would form the same conclusion Sandra had right now.

(Y/n) was pregnant.

"I didn't believe the others, about your big fireman until we watched him pick you up the other day. Now I know why."

"You don't know anything-"

"I know he's not going to be able to leave you now. A little girl, having his baby. He'll have to stick by you. What a way to make sure that eligible fireman doesn't find someone better, more mature than you. Baby-trap him so he can't leave you."

She wouldn't answer. She wouldn't give Sandra the satisfaction. but she could feel tears welling up in her eyes when she realised the toilet door had opened again. Tina was stood there. At least it was someone (Y/n) knew and trusted. Tina was the only person (Y/n) would trust with this news, they were close friends but (Y/n) hadn't told anyone about this yet.

She hadn't worked out what she was going to do or found a way to tell Evan without him coming to the same conclusion as Sandra had.

Now she was going to go and tell everyone in their class and soon enough it would be all round the college that (Y/n) was pregnant. Everyone would be saying the same thing as Sandra because no one really knew (Y/n) or anything about her relationship with Evan and this was gossip, not fact.

"Sandra, back off with those jealous accusations." Tina folded her arms over her chest but she didn't get two steps into the toilets before (Y/n) ran past her.

She didn't care about class anymore. She didn't care about missing their next class.

There was no way (Y/n) was going to sit there while Sandra spread this news around everyone. She couldn't have them looking and staring at her and whispering behind her back. (Y/n) would rather go home and wallow in self-pity and think what she was going to do.

But she didn't know what she was going to do, or how Evan was going to react to something like this.

***

Evan lifted his gaze from his phone to look ahead of him. He slouched his hips back against the jeep and took a look around. When he messaged (Y/n) last night during his shift all he got was short replies. But he managed to get her to agree for him to pick her up after her class today.

She wasn't out yet. She was usually out on time, she didn't hang around for anyone, she liked to be straight out and back home as quickly as possible.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket when his eyes landed on Tina. Evan didn't know her very well, but he knew her to say hello to, and he knew she was (Y/n)'s closest friend.

"Hi."

"Hey Buck, you're not here for (Y/n), are you?" Her words made his shoulders slump and knots formed in his stomach.

"Why?"

"She missed class today, yesterday too."

That wasn't normal. (Y/n) was never one to miss class. A few months back she caught a chest infection, she could barely breathe or stay awake and she ran a fever. And Evan had to stop her from leaving the apartment to try and get to class on time. Even when she was ill she still tried her best to attend classes so it wasn't like her to not turn up.

And she told Evan she would be at class today. She told him she had gone yesterday and said he could pick her up. So either something had happened or she really wasn't feeling like herself and had decided to skip. Either way, Evan didn't like the thought or the outcome he was going to get.

"She's not been herself lately… has she said anything to you, I'm worried about her."

He didn't like the look he got in return. Tina bit down on her lip and looked down at her shoes before she sighed. Her foot began to tap against the pavement and she slumped her shoulders and dropped her weight onto one leg as her nails scratched along her arm.

She didn't want to have to tell Evan, but she knew if she didn't, (Y/n) wasn't likely to either. And he needed to know what was going on so he could help (Y/n) and try to sort this out with her.

"Some of the people on campus started asking her about you, they um… they started saying stuff, when they found out you're older, and what you do for a living." That was the nicest way Tina could think of wording it without upsetting or angering Evan. And she knew it was never her place to tell him that (Y/n) might be pregnant.

She had tried messaging and calling (Y/n) after class yesterday but she never answered. Considering what Tina had heard in the toilets, she wanted to know if (Y/n) was okay and if it was true, but she'd heard nothing from her.

"What kind of stuff?"

"That she's with you for status and money- stupid stuff that's not true, but it really upset her. I think you need to talk to her."

"Fuck." Evan dragged his hand through his hair and down over his jaw that clicked from side to side. "I know where she'll be."

When he worked double shifts, he told (Y/n) she could stay at his place even if he wasn't there. It was closer to the college and it was somewhere she could study in peace and be alone and then she would be there when he came home. He loved coming home to her.

He had a gut feeling that if (Y/n) was in a state and was this upset, she would go to his place. He prayed that she would be at his place because then he wouldn't have to ring her and go searching for her. He needed to talk to her and make sure she was alright because this didn't sound good, it sounded frightening.

"Ask her to call me, so I know she's alright, please?"

"Course I will."

It didn't take him long to drive down to the apartment and part of Evan wished he had gone home before going to the college. But grabbing a shower after shift and then having a coffee with Eddie and Hen had taken longer than he expected and he thought he was going to be late to pick (Y/n) up. He knew if he was late she would presume he was still at work and try to walk or get the bus home.

Once he got to the apartment, trepidation flooded his veins and he almost didn't want to open the door.

He cautiously headed inside and took a look around. Her shoes and bag were by the door, so were her keys which meant she was here. Thank God. That was one less thing for him to worry about; he knew where she was and that she was safe.

"Baby?"

He headed towards the stairs, about to walk into the living room but he stopped when he heard the tv on upstairs. (Y/n) didn't usually watch tv up in bed in the middle of the afternoon like this. He grabbed the bannister and used it to propell himself up the stairs two at a time.

It didn't take long for Evan to lock his eyes on (Y/n). She was curled up in the middle of the bed, her knees coiled up and her arms wrapped around a pillow that she was cradling to her chest like it was a teddy.

When he walked over, Evan could feel his heart trying to break free from his chest.

She was crying.

Staying silent, he quietly walked over to the bed and sank down on the side. He waited for (Y/n) to acknowledge that he was there before he leaned over her and slipped his hands beneath her arms so he could try and move her. (Y/n) stayed limp and let Evan lift her up so he could lay her over his lap instead and he gently moved the pillow so she could hug him instead.

He was relieved when (Y/n) shuffled round to properly hug him. She imbedded her face into his abdomen and coiled her arms around his waist, digging her fingers into his back.

Evan leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, curving both his arms around her with his hand soothingly rubbing up and down her back.

"Baby, talk to me. What's going on, hm?" He stayed doubled over with his lips meshed into her temple until his back started to ache. When he pulled back, he started to card his fingers through her hair, brushing tendrils away from her face that was still mostly smothered in his shirt.

"Just… just a low mood, I'm okay."

Why was she trying to hide this from him? They didn't have the kind of relationship where they felt they couldn't confide in each other. Evan told (Y/n) anything and everything that was on his mind, whether it was good or bad. He thought she felt the same.

"I talked to Tina today. She told me what those girls in your class were saying." He tried to keep his tone light to make sure (Y/n) knew he wasn't trying to start an argument or come across as rude. He was just trying to understand.

He opened his arms when (Y/n) started to move and waited for her to sit up so they could talk properly. But her shoulders were quaking and tears were now freely streaming down her face. Evan's breath caught in his throat when (Y/n) turned away from him and when she tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed, Evan reached out for her.

He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her back so she couldn't try and leave. They needed to talk, avoiding this conversation wouldn't make it go away, it would only prolong the inevitable.

"No, no baby we need to talk about this. Is this why you've been nervous around me?"

He perched his chin on her shoulder and kept her back pressed into his chest while both arms secured around her waist so she was sitting on his lap. He felt her hands grip his wrists tightly and she tilted her head down so she was looking at her hands. At least with Evan behind her, (Y/n) didn't have to see his face fall when she tried to explain.

"They don't get why you're with me, but- but Sandra thinks I'm with you to use you… boost my image, or something like that." It felt silly to be getting upset over something so stupid, but (Y/n) couldn't help how she reacted or the way she felt.

Sandra's words had cut deep and if she thought like that and so did other people on campus, what were Evan's friends and colleagues going to say? What would his family think of her? Would they all think the same? Would they think she was using Evan? Was he going to end up thinking the same thing?

"They don't get it because this isn't their relationship. I love you, I love how I feel when I'm with you and how amazing and smart you are. Come on, baby, it doesn't matter what they say-"

"Evan I- I care what your friends will think, your team… if the girls think like that then-"

"Hey, they're not like that, I promise. Baby they won't think bad of you, they'll love you like I do. Does it bother you that I'm older? There's not even ten years between us… what's that face for?"

Evan kept his arms around (Y/n)'s middle but he let her shuffle round on his lap so she was facing him this time. He moved his hands to her legs and pulled on them until they were hooked around his torso and she was sat high on his hips with her abdomen pushing into his.

His hands wormed beneath her shirt and spread out on her back while (Y/n) hooked her arms around his neck.

They had never talked about the age difference being a problem for either of them. It didn't bother Evan, it was a number that barely made an impact on either of their lives. It wasn't as if Evan was middle-aged and (Y/n) was a teenager, they weren't at different points in their lives. And no one at the station was going to care.

They loved each other, they were happy together and more to the point, they were both good for each other. That's all the team at the station were going to see and care about and Evan knew they would be fine with (Y/n) and would welcome her with open arms.

"You know it doesn't, but I know what everyone's gonna say when they get to know me, Evan everyone will think I'm tying you down to me… that I- that I'm baby-trapping you. It's what Sandra said earlier."

She could barely breathe.

She'd done it. She'd taken the plunge and told him what was really bothering her and how their lives were now going to change.

(Y/n) could see it now. She could just see all of Evan's friends at the station telling him he was moving too fast with her. That she was a lovely girl, but she might be with him for the wrong reasons. They would think (Y/n) had planned this, that she was trying to leech off of Evan and keep him tied to her by having a baby with him. It was bad enough that everyone on campus was going to think like this, (Y/n) wouldn't have to see them for long before she graduated.

But she would have to see the people Evan worked with and see them stare at her and look her up and down with distaste. She would see them whisper about her.

Tears began to stream down (Y/n)'s face when Evan didn't say anything, he just stared at her with parted lips like he hadn't heard her or she had spoken in a foreign language. (Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck and leaned forward to hide her face in his neck. She breathed in his scent, trying to take deep breaths as Evan's chest rumbled.

"Baby I… I don't know what that means."

He felt the shiver that tore down her spine. Evan worked around older people, barring Ravi, Evan was one of the younger ones at the station. He didn't know a lot of the new terms floating around, it was normally Chris who told him what things meant.

Evan hadn't heard that one before and it made his stomach churn at how upset (Y/n) was getting about all of this.

"It's… it means I'm trapping you in a relationship with me, stopping you from leaving, by having a baby with you." (Y/n) hiccupped through her words, but she managed to say them all without too much hassle.

She leaned her head back enough to see Evan's reaction. She had to know if he was going to be angry or upset or if he might even believe she was baby-trapping him on purpose. (Y/n) couldn't think about anything or what they were going to do until she knew how Evan was going to feel about all of this.

"You're pregnant?"

"I'm so-"

Before (Y/n) could even fumble her way through an apology, a gasp tumbled past her lips when Evan pushed forward and pinned her down on her back on the bed.

He had one arm wormed beneath her waist and the other hand cupped the back of her neck as (Y/n) tried to catch her breath back. But she didn't have chance for a proper breath when Evan stole her lips in a kiss. He laid between her legs that hooked around his hips on instinct.

She could feel his abdomen pressing into hers, his chest meshed down against her own and his elbows jammed down into the bed so he didn't press all of his weight onto her and smother her. But the feeling of him laying on top of her like this was heaven; especially with the force and weight of his lips on hers.

(Y/n) tangled her fingers up in his hair and gave a sharp pull when she felt Evan's tongue slide past her lips with ease. His boney hips pushed into hers, pinning her so far down into the bed that she felt like there would be a mould of her body in the mattress when they eventually got up.

His teeth meshed against hers, his fingers tightened around the back of her neck and his hand pressed into her back, pulling her chest tighter into hers. (Y/n) could feel herself going lightheaded from lack of air and the weight of Evan pushing down on her. She dragged her tongue across his lower lip and finally pulled back for air, seeing black spots dance all around Evan when she tried to look up at him.

His baby blue eyes were a deeper, darker shade now that tears were glossing over his eyes. But it was the way his lips were twitched up into a dazed smile that made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat.

"We're having a baby?"

"You're n-not mad at me?"

Evan laughed breathlessly and stole another kiss from her lips that felt like glue attaching to him and keeping him close. He moved his hand round from her neck to glide the pad of his finger beneath her eyes, swiping away a few stray tears. And he moved a few loose pieces of pair behind her ear so he could see her properly, fully.

"Sweetheart, this may surprise you but I had something to do with this too, it's not like you did this on your own or decided this was gonna happen. And why would I be mad? You know I love the bones of you… is this what you want?"

A sudden bolt of fear shot through to his heart at the thought that this wasn't what (Y/n) wanted.

But when he watched her lips curve into a smile and saw the tears begin to fall again, he sighed. She was nodding. This is what she wanted. He didn't quite know why she thought he would be angry with her. He loved her more than anything and she was his world. And Evan wanted kids, he wanted loads of them and he knew from the moment they got together that (Y/n) was the one for him.

"You, uh, do you wanna move in with me then, baby?" His grin made (Y/n)'s stomach jump.

This might not be the correct order to do things in, but they were doing this their way. And she practically lived here with Evan anyway, most of her things were here and she barely visited home. Moving in would just make things more official.

"Yes please- what are you doing?" (Y/n) tightened her arms around his neck and leaned up with him when he tilted back. She attached her lips to his jaw, watching him grin madly as he fumbled in his back pocket for his phone.

"Calling Maddie, I wanna introduce you so then I can start telling everyone I'm gonna be a dad."

Evan knew if he told Maddie about the news before he introduced her to (Y/n), she would scold him. He wanted to ask her round for tea, introduce them and try and see if he could hold back a few days, maybe a week. Once (Y/n) had had a scan, then he could go round shouting it from the rooftops and telling all his friends and family that it was finally happening.

He was going to have a baby with the girl of his dreams.

[messrmoonyy]

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold. 

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place. 

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid. 

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party. 

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more. 

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery. 

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “ 

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back. 

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl. 

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress. 

Always the gentleman. 

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too. 

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued. 

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “ 

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “ 

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you. 

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly. 

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did 

“ distinguished my ass “ 

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways. 

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow. 

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like. 

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates 

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over. 

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire. 

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course. 

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “ 

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear. 

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment. 

“ that’s my girl “ 

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had. 

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money. 

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham. 

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on. 

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over. 

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you. 

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats. 

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again. 

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t. 

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices. 

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night. 

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it. 

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates. 

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod 

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you. 

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs. 

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party. 

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be. 

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy. 

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people. 

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them. 

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help. 

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days. 

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering. 

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one. 

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest. 

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished. 

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds. 

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house. 

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other. 

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition. 

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about. 

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you. 

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice. 

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels. 

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming. 

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed. 

“ good girl “ 

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had. 

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them. 

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little. 

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “ 

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head. 

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused. 

“ yeah? About what? “ 

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “ 

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head 

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again. 

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair 

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “ 

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you. 

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were. 

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you. 

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth. 

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face. 

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you. 

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face 

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband. 

He’d ask you one day. 

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return. 

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.  

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again. 

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain. 

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.  

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt. 

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch 

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan. 

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “ 

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music. 

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house. 

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along. 

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters. 

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that. 

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist. 

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “ 

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “ 

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head. 

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “ 

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons. 

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “ 

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck 

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “ 

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening. 

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “ 

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins. 

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel. 

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp. 

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room. 

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him. 

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him. 

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist. 

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away. 

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head. 

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location. 

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well. 

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking. 

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy. 

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on. 

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him. 

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs. 

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine. 

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm. 

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“ 

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure. 

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him. 

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit. 

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper. 

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already. 

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings. 

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle. 

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too. 

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted. 

And wouldn’t that be a tale. 

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants. 

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt. 

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins. 

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin. 

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too. 

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too. 

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch. 

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could. 

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches. 

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard. 

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you. 

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice. 

“ y’think so? “ 

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too. 

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him. 

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath. 

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him. 

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired. 

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait. 

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did. 

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing. 

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “ 

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall. 

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush. 

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “ 

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you” 

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless. 

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect. 

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer. 

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter. 

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock. 

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up. 

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days. 

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose. 

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed. 

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself. 

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure. 

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it. 

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek 

“ mhm sure “ 

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too 

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

[diejager]

Sweetie i know it's been a long time but i really need more Brahms! König🥵🥵🥵!!!!

I KNOW! I STILL REMEMBER THE DAY MY FRIEND ASKED ME TO WRITE THE FIRST BRAHMS!KÖNIG. And I still remember how musky and broad Brahms looked like in the movie….

Brahms!König pt.3 Cw: DARKFIC, kidnapping, imprisonment, possessiveness, tell me if I missed any.

You could hear their voices, the confused and worried tones of your coworkers through the thick, sound-insulating walls of his little cave. He’d taken you to his home, within the walls of the dilapidated mansion, tying you to his bed and leaving you vulnerable to him and anyone who’d stumble into your restrained figure. You writhed on his bed, the sheet-covered mattress smelling musky and thick, it smelled of sweat and blood and earth, something too masculine, fitting of his stature and being. Your gag was stinky and crusted, a salty and tangy taste lingering on your tongue that told you enough of the cloth’s original use. You would’ve retched if you weren’t gagged so tightly.

Your eyes scoured his room, the dark and dingy basement lit up by a single light of his lamp, left on the small workbench beside every kind of artistic materials, glue, saws, scissors, needles, wool and string organised in their own corner of the wall. Despite the bright light, the rest of the room remained shrouded in darkness, shadows dancing across the walls like demons and monsters coming to haunt you in weakness, coming to join your captor in his fun.

You dreaded the moment he comes back, the silence of your cage a striking contrast to the bustling house you were hidden in. You feared what he’d do to you now that he had you, knowing that he was grinding up against you and rutting your thigh, panting loudly and grabbing at you like a man starved for attention —perhaps he was one. All your training and instincts failed you, stripped from any weapons and your gear, boots unlaced and toes curling in your socks, you’d been left in your undershirt and pants.

In your whimpering and fright, you almost missed the loud, telltale steps of your giant protector, walking down the narrow path to his room. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. You glanced at him, and caught him staring back at you, your sweat-coated skin and flushed skin, naked to his cool eyes. He smiled through them, roving over your panicked expression, pinched brows and tense shoulders, down the slope of your abdomen and the curve of your hips before he moved, stepping closer and closer to you with a bright and needy gleam.

The bed creaked under his weight, slumping to the side as he sat down, his calloused hands cradling your face and coaxing you to look at him when you glanced away, his thumb rubbing the bags under your eyes. He cooed soft words and praises, as if he was calming down a cornered animal, waiting to hand you treats and praises, little caresses and adoring kisses.

“Look at you, Maus,” he sighed lowly, his auburn hair curled around his porcelain mask, tickling the edge of his ears, “You’ll be good for me, ja? If you behave, I’ll untie you, let you walk around our room.”

If you wanted a chance at freedom, you’d have to play into his hand, eat and drink from his big hand until he trusted you to leave you alone for an undetermined amount of time, hunting and scavenging the area he lived in. Gulping down you fear, you gave him a hesitant nod, eyes closed to accept the life you’d live for a while.

“Gute Maus.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny

[violetsrxse]

Just How I Remember - Azriel x Rhysand's Sister!Reader

Summary: After 50 years of being trapped Under the Mountain you, your brother and Prythian are finally free of Amarantha's rule. After all the suffering, you finally get to return to not only your home, but also your mate.

Warnings: Mentions of UTM, just some angsty fluff ig.

Word Count: 1,442

A/N: This is my first ever piece that I have ever posted and the first thing I've written in a while, so I'm a bit nervous. I'm thinking of making this into a series though and tbh this is more of a prologue than anything. It's a bit shorter than I would've liked but I'm still getting back into the feel of writing.

Amarantha’s reign was over, she was dead. 

It was a lingering thought as you walked through the halls of what was once Prythian’s sacred mountain, now a hollow shell, the walls imbued with the agonised screams of Amarantha’s victims. 

Your mind wandered to the time before this mess had occurred. Before you and so many others had been deceived and caged like animals, reduced to cattle under a sadistic monster's rule.

After walking for some time you reached a spiral staircase, venturing upwards, closer and closer to the light that filtered through an opening in the rock. You reached the top, being met with a doorway carved into the stone, leading to a balcony overlooking the forest surrounding the mountain. 

Amarantha hadn’t let you leave, not even once. For fifty years you hadn’t been anywhere but under the tons of rock.

Walking through the door, you took a deep breath of the fresh air, your eyes stinging slightly at the brightness.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw the sun. The sweet warmth of its rays on your skin, the leathery membrane of your wings. Couldn’t remember the feel of the wind as it brushed the hair over your neck, your shoulders.

You gazed in the direction of Velaris, though so far away, you could almost see it. The distant memory of the beautiful snow capped mountains, the bustling streets of the city that you and your brother gave everything to protect. You’d be returning soon, you’d be home.

You hadn’t yet worked up the courage to tug on the bond in your chest, the nerves had gotten the best of you. You knew it was irrational to be nervous, knew he’d be happy with just knowing you were okay. Alive. It had been so long since you closed down the bond, shutting him out. Not only for his safety, but also your sanity, not wanting him to know the horrors you had been subject to.

What you had been made to do to others.

It wouldn’t be long before Rhysand was finished meeting with the other High Lords and you would both winnow home at last. 

Your mind spun, recalling all that had happened in the past three months. The arrival of the human girl, her undying determination to save her love. Your brother’s growing interest in her, the way he’d tried to protect her. He hadn’t yet told you anything about why he’d done it.

But you had a good idea of what it was.

He was your twin after all, he was basically an open book.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Rhysand appeared at your side, looking to you before furrowing his brows in concern. Taking your face in his hands, your brother wiped tears you hadn’t even realised were falling from your cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he said softly, pulling you into his chest. “It’s over now, we’re going home.”

Sniffling, you wrapped your arms around him, willing your tears to cease. 

“I know, it's just been so long since I’ve been outside,” pulling away you trained your attention back on the scenery before you. “I’d forgotten how good the sun feels.”

He stayed silent, tucking you into his side. For several moments, you simply watched the clouds go by.

Rhys broke the silence, “Let’s go home.” His words were rushed as if he couldn’t stand one more moment away from home, from your family. You couldn’t either.

Nodding, you took his hand before night swirled around you, jarring but familiar. 

And before you knew it, you were home.

𓆩♡𓆪

Velaris was as beautiful as you remembered. 

When the darknesses whorled away and your sight was no longer blocked, you got an undisrupted view of the city you had missed so much. The sounds around you faded away as you beheld the people walking the streets, free to live safely. Untouched.

With your gaze fixed on the rainbow, the Sidra. You didn’t sense the presence of several people entering the room before a warm hand was pressed to your shoulder. 

Released from your stupor you whipped around, a set of hazel eyes meeting your own violet ones. There were tears there, primed to fall down his tanned cheeks. 

Without a moment's hesitation, you were flinging yourself into his arms, gripping tightly to him as heart wrenching sobs tore their way from deep in your chest. Arms wrapped tightly around you, supporting your weight as your knees gave out under you.

His soft voice broke through the onslaught of your cries, a hand brushing over your back. You only gripped him tighter. 

It seemed like forever before you finally gathered the strength to pull your face from his chest, meeting his eyes once more. Your lip trembled as those gentle, scarred thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks. 

Words escaped you as his eyes scanned over your face, taking note of every new scar. The flicker of rage in his eyes was short lived as you brought your own hands to his face, smoothing over his skin. He was the first to speak, his voice uncharacteristically shaky. 

“My love.” Was all he said before tugging you back into his chest, brushing his nose against your hair, inhaling your scent. 

“I missed you so much,” you finally managed to choke out, “I thought I’d never see you again.” The sentence ended with a hiccup of a sob, it only made him wrap his arms tighter around you. 

Up until this point, the others had given you the privacy to reunite with your mate, leaving the room with Rhys in tow. You hadn’t even noticed.

Pulling away slightly, you looked up at him again. His eyes first, then his lips. He understood immediately, leaning closer slowly before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Brows pinching together with the effort of keeping your tears at bay you kissed him back, fingers drifting into the hair at his nape. 

You held him, relishing in the closeness you were deprived of for half a century. Never wanting to pull away you kept kissing him, but he kept it soft as if he were scared to break you. 

After what felt like several minutes you finally pulled away, regaining your ability to speak. 

“Azriel.” You whispered, near unbelieving that he stood before you. 

“Y/N.” He answered with a small smile on his face you hadn’t seen apart from in your dreams in such a long time. 

You can’t help but smile back at him and though it is small, it makes him beam nonetheless. Finally pulling away from each other you remember the rest of your friends- your family. 

“Where is everyone?” You inquire, scanning over the space around you. The soft crackle of the fire in the hearth, the faelight spread throughout the room creating a warm atmosphere, the couches situated in a crescent shape for weekly game nights. It was the exact same as you remembered, as if it hadn’t been touched since you left. 

Perhaps it hadn’t.

Watching you closely as you take in your surroundings, Azriel answers “They wanted to give us a moment alone,” A pause “they didn’t want to overwhelm you. Rhys went with them.”

Nodding, you just now acknowledge the low voices flowing from the other side of the door, leading to the kitchen. You smile fondly at the slightly louder voice, it was Cassian.

Walking over to the door you open it, smiling as you take in your family. Mor in her usual red, Amren in her grey set and Cassian clad in the Illyrian leathers that may as well be moulded to his skin at this point. 

It’s Mor who reaches you first, pulling you into a bone crushing hug that you quickly reciprocate. Followed by Cassian, picking you right up off the ground in a bone crushing embrace. Even Amren hugs you briefly, the only sign of her relief. 

Azriel stands close to you, a fond smile on his face and a barely there pinch to his eyebrows that most would miss with a glance. It concerns you, but you understand the guilt that he and the rest of the Inner Circle must feel. Over what you and Rhys had done to protect them, what you would’ve done until your last breath as long as it meant that they were safe. 

Rhys waits until you part before a serious expression washes over his face, his eyes hollow. You know that he’s going to say something to sour the mood, and that he’s feeling guilty to have to do so. 

You understand though, because it isn’t over.

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐄𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨)

word count: 6.2k

summary: You finally arrive in Switzerland and take a trip to Nico's hometown. Nothing can go wrong, right?

warnings: angst (sorta. at the end), drinking mentioned, not edited, probably some inaccurate descriptions of Switzerland, but I did my best ahaha, poorly translated german!!!

note: thank you guys for the love on the first part! i hope you enjoy this as much. my inbox is always open for questions or concerns!

part one

JULY 2023

The plane rides to Switzerland were arguably the worst experiences of your life, when it came to air travel at least. First, people at the terminals were absolutely miserable and rude to you from the moment you stepped foot in the airports until you sat in your seat on the plane. Second, you almost missed your flight after your overnight layover because the hotel shuttle broke down. Then, you were unfortunately seated next to the seemingly one person on the plane who snored while they slept. On top of all of that, you were in the middle seat for both flights. 

Needless to say, you had had enough of planes for the time being and you wouldn’t be upset if you stayed in Switzerland for the rest of your life if it meant never having to do that again. The only thing that got you through all of that without crying your eyes out were Nico’s excited texts about your arrival, and also Jack, who had to talk you down from fighting one of the terminal women at the airport after Charlie called him in a panic. 

Once you and Charlie had gone through the proper channels to be granted clearance and had your suitcases, you searched the sea of people bustling around the airport for Nina, Nico’s sister. You’d only seen her in pictures, but Nico had made her send you a picture of what she would be wearing to make her a little easier for you to spot. You were grateful that she had, because you’re not sure you would’ve found her if it weren’t for knowing she was wearing a bright yellow top. 

“Hello,” She beams, her smile just as bright and her accent thicker than her brothers, “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Nico has not shut up about you since he got back home.”

Your cheeks instantly flushed a deep shade of pink as you let the man to her left take your suitcase, while she grabbed at Charlie’s. You’d known Nico had told his sister about your arrival and trip, but you didn’t think there was enough to tell that would’ve had him discussing you for the last two months. Though, you were going to choose to not dwell or read too much into it. Maybe it was a simple mistranslation. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” You grinned, letting her pull you forward into a hug, “I’ve heard so much about you over the years.” 

“Hopefully good things,” She teases as she gently squeezes you, “This is my boyfriend, Finn.”

You step out of Nina’s grasp and take Finn’s outstretched hand, a warm smile on your face as you introduce yourself. Once Charlie had made her own introductions, Nina was ready to set off towards the car. She relayed an apology from Nico, mentioning how he desperately tried to get out of the prior commitment just so that he was able to pick the two of you up. You had to ignore Charlie’s not-so-subtle elbow into your rib cage as she snickered. 

“I’ll be sure to tell him not to worry. After all, he’s letting us stay in his house for free,” You lightly laughed, handing your backpack to Finn as he loaded the trunk. 

“Yes, he told me about that. He said you are quite stubborn, in the best way,” She had a mischievous smile toying on her face, “He was ready to give up the entire place, but he said you wouldn’t let him.”

“Yeah,” You shyly laughed, “I’m not putting him out of his own home. I don’t mind sharing a bed with Charlie.”

Nina slightly raised her brows at you, giving you a teasing smile when she noticed the blush that was still decorating your cheeks. You averted your gaze away from the woman in front of you, trying to not think about how much Nico had told his sister about you. Trying to ignore the stampede of butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you,” You and Charlie said at the same time as Finn grabbed the last of your bags, earning an amused look from the Swiss natives in front of you. 

Nina offered either one of you the front seat, but you both declined and slid into the back instead. The drive there was filled with her pointing out landmarks or important shops, with Finn chiming in every once in a while despite his English being slightly off. You made a mental note to learn more words in their language to better communicate with him, and the other Swiss born people you’d encounter. You tried to learn the language as best as you could over Duolingo without asking Nico, but that proved to be more difficult than you’d anticipated. 

Nearly halfway through the drive to the apartment, you’d gotten a text from Nico that mentioned how sorry he was for not only him not being there, but for also sticking you with his sister until he was done. You bit your lip in order to prevent yourself from smiling, though it didn’t necessarily work based on Nina’s smirk when she glanced back at you. Your response was simple, telling him that it was perfectly fine, that you loved his sister, and you were excited to see what he had in store. 

When Finn pulls up to Nico’s complex, he leaves the car running outside the main front door and jumps out to grab your suitcases from the trunk. You slip out of the backseat, Charlie following suit as the two of them nearly shove you away as they grab your bags. Finn mumbles something to Nina before placing a gentle kiss to her lips and getting back into the car. 

“He said wait here until he parks the car,” Nina translated, hands on her hips as she watches him drive off, “So, you and my brother are not…?”

The question caught you so off guard that you slightly choke on the air in your lungs, your eyes widening as Charlie let out a loud laugh. “We’re just friends,” You explained, your voice slightly cracking in embarrassment.

“I don’t buy it,” She shrugs nonchalantly, her brow quirking as she looks at you, “I know my brother, and you’re quite obvious too, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Charlie snorted, ignoring the scowl you sent her way.

“We’re just friends,” You repeated, your voice much softer as you stared at your shoes. 

Though Nina still didn’t believe you, she dropped the subject and fell into conversation with Charlie as you sat with your thoughts. It was a secret to none, except for Nico himself apparently, that you had feelings for him, and you’re not sure how you plan to keep those tucked away for the next week and a half. Nina’s subtle comments about how much he spoke about you were not helping you, either. In fact, they were letting you drift back over into the possibility of him liking you back. 

Finn quickly returned, taking only your suitcase after you put up a stubborn argument when he tried to carry your backpack as well. Nina translated for the both of you in amusement, laughing with Charlie when you placed your hands on your hips and shook your head at Finn. After your small, harmless debate had been settled, you followed them inside and up to Nico’s apartment. While you were in the elevator, you felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket, and you saw Nico’s name on the screen. 

“Hello,” You answered, turning away from the smug smiles of the three of them. 

“Hey! Did you guys make it to the apartment,” He asks, only the quiet hum of passing traffic being heard in the background, “I’m on my way now. I made them let me leave early.”

“Yeah, we’re in the elevator right now,” You told him, a light blush decorating your cheeks simply from speaking to him, “You didn’t have to leave early. We would’ve been fine.”

“Oh, he left early,” You heard Charlie’s teasing whisper followed by Nina’s giggle.

“I wanted to. I’ll be there in about ten minutes, so I will see you soon,” His voice was slightly softer than usual, almost as if he was trying to hold himself back from something. 

“Great, see you soon,” You bashfully spoke, all too aware of the audience behind you. 

You disconnected the call, avoiding turning around to see what you know are going to be playful grins and relentless comments on how red your face had gotten. Luckily, the elevator had reached Nico’s floor, and Nina was slipping past you to lead the way. Shaking your head when Charlie winked at you, you followed the two of them down the hallway until you reached what you assume is Nico’s apartment since Nina’s fishing around her bag for a set of keys. 

When she finally gets the door unlocked, she pushes it open and gestures for the two of you to step inside. Your eyes are dancing around the apartment, drinking in all of the little details and decorations that littered the space. Pictures of his family and friends hung on the wall, but there was one picture in particular that stood out to you.

It was a picture of just the two of you that had been taken less than four months ago, after their win over the Rangers. You had tagged along with the guys and their partners out to some small diner to celebrate their win, and you ended up next to Nico at the table. You later learned it was not a happy accident courtesy of Nicole. The two of you were talking and having a good time when you had tipped your chair too far backwards, sending you toppling over. 

Nico, being the kind person he is, had tried to prevent you from falling, but instead, he went crashing down with you. The two of you laid on the floor, laughter echoing around you as you looked at him. You had no idea anyone had even taken a picture of the two of you, but it made something swell inside of your heart at the thought of Nico not only  knowing, but even caring enough to print it out.

“Let me show you the guest room,” Nina’s voice tears you out of your trance.

Both girls share knowing, teasing looks with each other, earning an eye roll from you as you follow Nina down the short hallway. She pushes open a door, her and Finn rolling the suitcases into the decently sized bedroom. You rush around Charlie, quickly moving to claim your side of the bed before she can do it.

The bedroom isn’t anything grand, but it looks extremely comfortable and cozy. The fluffy comforter is a light blue color with matching pillowcases that told you it likely came in a set. The walls in the room were sparsely decorated, but there was a full length mirror tucked in a corner with a small table next to it that was perfect for getting ready. There was also a TV that appeared to still have the plastic protective film over it sitting atop a nice wooden dresser.

The view outside the window made your jaw drop and your eyes slightly widen, the thought of never leaving returning again, but for a much better reason now. You had only seen very little of what the city had to offer, but you were already absolutely enchanted by it in its entirety. There was absolutely nothing that could compare. 

“I’ll let you guys get settled and wait for Nico in the main room,” Nina softly spoke, “If you need help, just yell!”

“Thank you,” You gave her a small smile. 

You and Charlie fall into a comfortable silence as you begin taking things out of your suitcases and bags. There was a small closet that you divided equally, and you also split the six drawer dresser between the two of you. You left your toiletries and other items on the exposed space of the dresser, not wanting to take up any bathroom space. You were in the middle of tucking your suitcase under the bed when you heard his voice.

“Well, come on,” Charlie playfully rolls her eyes as she watches you debate going out there. 

She doesn’t wait for you as you briefly remain in your spot, your hands trembling with nerves, but you follow shortly after. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you round the corner, and you’re not entirely sure why. You knew you were going to be seeing him, so why were you so nervous? 

“Hey Nico,” Charlie greets, letting him pull you into a side hug.

He greets her in return, but his eyes don’t leave your figure once he notices you hesitating near the hallway. The three of them notice the way Nico seems to have let them fade away, his focus now being you and only you. Nico’s arm is so loose around Charlie that she barely feels a difference when she steps away from them, her smirk matching that of Nina and Finn as Nico steps towards you. 

Your eyes never stray away from his, everyone around you blending in with the background, as you watch him approach you with bated breath. Nico has the small smile on his face that he always does, but it makes your heart swell all the same. He instantly pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your neck as your own wrap around his torso.

Nina shares a look with the two others as she shakes her head in amusement before she moves into the kitchen. Finn follows suit, Charlie shortly after, leaving you and Nico in the main room alone. Your head is pressed against his chest as you relish in the feeling of his arms encasing you. You could stay there forever if you had the opportunity. 

“Missed you,” Nico bashfully mumbles, making your already red cheeks deepen in color.

“Missed you, too,” You whisper against him.

“I’m excited to show you my home,” He says as he pulls away, his hands lingering on your arms a tad longer than necessary, “I have a lot planned for us.”

The first couple of days Nico showed the two of you around Bern, taking you to all of his favorite spots, and spots he thought the two of you would enjoy. He let you guys have control of when you went, but he gave some guidance because certain places were best to see at certain times. He also gave you the option to say no every time he brought up something he wanted you guys to see, but you never did. Both of you wanted to see everything that you could. 

The third day you were there, Nico mentioned that his parents wanted to host dinner for everyone, but he made it clear you didn’t have to go to that either. He reiterated that it was your trip and if you didn’t want to spend the little time you had with his family, he completely understood. You had given him a pointed look when you told him you would love to go and that it would never be anything except an honor to have them host you for dinner. 

You had spent the majority of the day relaxing and wandering around the city with Charlie while Nico had gone off to do something work related for the morning. The two of you arrived  back at his apartment an hour before you were supposed to leave, and you took turns showering before getting yourselves ready for the dinner. You were sitting on the floor in front of the mirror doing your hair when you noticed a receipt on the floor poking out underneath the table.

Curiosity always gets the best of you, so you reach for the paper and pull it out to look at it. The words were in a language you didn’t really understand, but the date was something you could clearly read. It was dated only a couple of days before your arrival and it had four things listed on it, so you opened your phone to do your best google translating job. 

Mirror. TV. Side table. Comforter set. 

Nico had bought a mirror, the comforter set, the side table, and a goddamn TV for the room before you got there. You’re positive he would’ve done this for anyone who was visiting and staying in his house, but you couldn’t help but let the warm feeling in your chest spread throughout your body. Nico had a big heart and he would always go to great lengths to make those he cared about as comfortable as possible, and regret from all of the times you let your unnecessary feelings push him away flooded your body. 

You didn’t have much time to dwell on that when you heard him walking through the door. Nico quickly popped his head in the room and to tell the two of you he was going to shower and change and then they would head to the train station. You and Charlie finished getting ready and waited for him in the living room, talking about how much fun you were having so far. It didn’t take Nico long to come out of his room freshly showered and changed, and he looked good. 

He had changed into a pair of simple white shorts and he had on a black shirt that had an unrecognizable logo above where his heart was. It wasn’t anything over the top, but it still made you flush with warmth as you looked at him. Charlie elbowed you in the side when she noticed the way your stare lingered on him, a quiet snicker passing through her lips. 

“Are you guys ready,” He asks, his cheeks tinged slightly pink. You assume it’s from how quickly he got ready, but Charlie knew better.

“We’ve been waiting on you,” You tease, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Yeah yeah,” He laughs as carefully brushes past you, “Let’s go then. Our train leaves soon.”

“Why are we taking a train again,” Charlie asks while the two of you follow Nico out of his apartment, letting him lock it behind you.

“It’s the quickest way to my home city. It’s an hour by train and two hours by car,” He says over his shoulder.

The three of you took the short trip to the train station, the car ride full of Charlie practicing her German with Nico who laughed at her attempts, but corrected her with grace. You yourself had recruited Nina’s help in learning and understanding the language, a little too embarrassed to ask for Nico’s help even though you knew he wouldn’t judge you. 

When you arrived at the station, Nico made sure that everyone had everything before guiding the two of you inside. It was busier than you thought, but Nico said most things there were since it was the summer months. His eyes kept glancing behind him to make sure the two of you were behind him, and he made sure to give you a small smile each time you made eye contact with him. He could tell you were becoming overwhelmed at the amount of people, and he wanted to take your hand in his own to calm you down, but he knew he couldn’t do that.

When you finally made it onto the train, Nico guided you to your seats, gesturing for the two of you to sit before he did. You took the seat by the window, and Charlie gave you a subtle wink as she took the seat across from you instead of next to you. You carefully narrowed your eyes at her, but she looked away with a smug look on her face. 

Nico took the seat next to you as the three of you fell into a comfortable silence. You kept your hands clasped in your lap, silently cursing Charlie but simultaneously thanking her at the same time. She was only doing what you were scared to do. The feeling of his thigh pressed against your own made your mind hazy as you kept your eyes trained on the platform outside of the window, watching as people rushed by. 

Charlie, who couldn’t stay quiet longer than five minutes to save her life, started asking about what the rest of the week had in store even though he’d told you a hundred times. Nico indulged Charlie’s questions, though his eyes kept flitting to you as you stayed quiet in your seat. He wanted to ask you if you were okay, but he felt like it wasn’t the place for that. Though you were fine, except for the always impending realization that your feelings for the man next to you seemed to grow every day.

You started joining in on the conversation not too long after the train ride started. It was a mixture of topics ranging from what you were going to do now that you graduated to Charlie’s complicated relationship with Jack. Charlie had noticed the way both you and Nico had subconsciously shifted your bodies towards each other, but she chose to silently observe rather than embarrass you both like you did to her. 

When the train reached the station in Nico’s hometown, you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous. You felt as if you had to make a good impression on Nico’s parents and you were nervous that you were going to screw it up. What if your outfit was too much? Too little? What if you tried to speak to them in their native language and you embarrassed yourself?

Both Charlie and Nico could see the worry on your face, and she gave it a moment to see if he would step in. She watched him hesitate, but ultimately had backed down so she could step in. Charlie grasped your hand in her own, giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you followed Nico out towards where Luca said he would be waiting. 

As soon as the brothers saw each other, they were loudly greeting each other as they pulled the other into their embrace. You couldn’t help but notice the way his entire face lit up the moment he saw his brother. You weren’t used to him looking so truly carefree that it put a smile on your face, and it made you wish that he could feel that happiness all the time. 

Nico lets go of his brother and introduces him to the two of you. Luca, much like his sister did, tugs you into his arms as he says, “So nice to meet you. Nico has told me a lot.”

Your face instantly heats up, as does Nico’s as you step out of Luca’s hold and keep your gaze on the ground. Charlie quietly mumbles about how much she loves this family before letting Luca hug her aswell. You are intensely aware of Nico’s proximity to you, but you’re too flustered to glance at him. Truthfully, he’s a little embarrassed himself that his brother exposed him so freely.

“Well, let’s get going,” Luca claps his hands together, “Mom is excited to see everyone.”

The ride to their home was fairly short, but Nico and Luca pointed out a few of their favorite spots from when they were children. It was a cute town, full of life and character that most towns in the United States could only dream of having. Each new thing you saw had you completely enamored, and furthered the idea that you could stay forever. 

The four of you climbed out of the car and headed towards the house, and you had forced yourself to put on your best facade of confidence to mask the nerves that rippled from your chest. Charlie looked nervous herself, but the both of you knew it was for a far different reason than you were. 

You admired the outside of his parent’s home as you walked up the path to the front door. It was nothing grand, but it was beautiful. They had a blooming garden tucked underneath what you assumed is the window in the main room. They had adorable outdoor trinkets perfectly littered in the yard, and they even had the most beautiful bird bath you’d ever seen.

Luca opened the front door, announcing your arrival as he gestured for you guys to follow him inside. You guys step into the entryway, toeing your shoes off in lieu of Luca and Nico. You let your eyes wander around you, taking in all the pictures that decorate the walls. A small smile makes its way on your face when you notice a picture of Nico when he was younger dressed as one of the Ninja Turtles for what you’re assuming was Halloween. Though with children, it could’ve been a random Tuesday afternoon. 

Your heart slams into your rib cage as the voices of Nico’s parents fill your ears, shortly followed by the sound of footsteps approaching you. Nico watches as you fiddled with your fingers and chewed on your bottom lip, and he’s brought back to the moment he first saw you. You were sporting a similar worried look, and you were even wearing a similar dress. The one thing that hadn’t changed, though, was that Nico still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“Hallo, meine söhne,” Nico’s mother softly speaks as she wraps her arms around Luca, followed by Luca. (Hello, my sons)

“Hallo mama,” Nico greets, returning her affection, “This is Y/N and Charlie.”

“Oh, hello,” She beams, her accent thick and clasping her hands in front of her as she looks at you, “It’s so nice to finally meet you two! I’m Katja. Do you mind if I give you a hug? We are huggers in this family!’

“Of course,” You shyly smiled, stepping into her outstretched arms. Her embrace brought a sort of comfort to you that made you feel at ease and welcomed. 

“Sie ist sehr schön, Nico. Warum ist sie nicht schon wieder deine Freundin,” She teases as she looks at her youngest child, though you can only understand a few words of what she said. (She's very beautiful, Nico. Why isn't she your girlfriend again?)

“Er ist eine muschi,” Luca laughed, earning a shove from his brother. (He’s a pussy)

Katja let go of you as she passed you an adoring smile, turning around to briefly scold her two boys before pulling Charlie into a hug. You let your eyes fall on Nico and you noticed the way his neck and cheeks had reddened, so whatever his mother and brother said must’ve been poking fun at him. You weren’t entirely sure what they had said, but you made out the words ‘beautiful’, ‘why’, and ‘she’. 

“Where’s dad,” Nico asks, clearing his throat as he slightly steps towards you.

“In the kitchen. Nina and Finn said they will be here soon as well,” She smugly smiles at the way her son seems to drift towards you, whether he’s aware of it or not.

“Is there anything I can help with,” You speak up, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. 

“Absolutely not! You are a guest here. You kids go in the main room and chat. Dinner will be done soon,” She waved the four of you off, subtly raising her eyebrows at Nico as he passes by her. 

Nico trails behind you as the four of you fall into the living room, and it’s almost like Charlie and Luca had made a silent agreement to force you and Nico by each other when they sat on the sofa and stretched their limbs out. You playfully roll your eyes at your friend as you sat on the smaller sofa, Nico shaking his head as he took the seat next to you. You ignore Charlie who keeps glancing at the empty recliner, instead focusing on Luca as he begins asking the two of you about your time so far.

Nina and Finn arrive not too long after, the middle child taking immediate notice to the way her brother has his arm loosely slung around the back of the cushion behind you and the way you seemed to lean into him. Luca had taken over the recliner so the couple could sit on the couch, Charlie greeting them before everyone fell back into conversation. 

Rino, Nico’s father, comes in when the six of you are discussing potential plans for later in the evening and announces that dinner is ready. A trail of hungry stomachs file into the dining area, everyone taking seats at the table. Katja is on one end followed by Nico, you, and Charlie while the others are on the other side with Nina directly across from you. 

“What do you girls do for a living,” Rino asks as they begin passing food around the table.

“We actually just graduated. I majored in digital marketing, and I landed an internship with Ralph Lauren,” You bashfully admitted at the slight bragging moment. 

“Congratulations! Nico told us about that, I believe,” Katja nonchalantly added.

Your face flushed as you take the dish from Nico’s hands, his eyes full of mortified apology. Charlie comes to your rescue by going on about her own major, the attention shifting on to her instead of you. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed by the things they had been saying, it just caught you off guard. They were making it increasingly difficult to deny yourself the pleasure of knowing that he didn’t feel the same. It was causing a war within your brain and heart.

The rest of the dinner went by with minimal teasing comments, and you had a fantastic time. You felt slightly guilty when his family would stumble over their English, and you made a point to tell them they didn’t have to do that the entire time. Katja was quick to wave you off and say that it was no problem and they needed to practice. However, you and Charlie both said you needed to practice too, so you compromised. You would speak to them in German and they would speak to you in English. It did not go very well on your end.

You refused to let his parents clean up dinner without your help, telling them how disappointed your mother would be if she found out you didn’t help. Once they realize you’re not backing down they end up letting you help Nico with the dishes while Charlie and Nina are tasked with cleaning the table. Luca and Finn corral Katja and Rino into the living, telling them to relax before they pick up the leftover tasks.

“Sorry about my family,” Nico quietly speaks after a brief silence, taking the dishes you hand him to dry.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” You laugh, “I love them. They’re amazing.”

“Yeah, but I mean the- I’m sorry about their comments,” He shyly admits, clearing his throat as he intently analyzes the plate in his hands.

Your movements still, the warm water running over the dishes as you let your gaze settle on him. The light above the sink illuminates his face in a way that’s almost certainly angelic. His brown eyes seemingly deepen in color under the light, and it makes your knees weak even though he isn’t even looking at you. His Adam's apple bobs as your silence starts to worry him, but when he turns his head he sees you’re already looking at him.

He sees the ghost of a smile toying at your lips when he meets your eyes. Your hair has delicately fallen in your face, and he knows you’ve tried to push it back countless times only for it to happen again. He knew it bugged you, and before he could realize what he was doing, he had placed the plate on the counter and he was reaching for the loose strands.

When you saw Nico’s hand reaching for you, you breath caught in your throat and you swear your heart stopped beating. You kept his gaze, your eyes slightly wider in anticipation as his fingers grazed your cheek. He pushed the hair that had annoyingly fallen in your face behind your ear, your mouth dropping open when he kept his palm against your cheek. 

The two of you stare at each other, nothing but the sound of the running water filling your ears. His thumbs moves in the smallest of movements against your skin that you almost don’t feel it, but the action still sends shivers down your spine. Your breathing stutters, and you swear that he starts to move closer to you, but you’re interrupted.

“Are you guys do–,” Luca’s voice cuts through the tension between you, causing the two of you to spring apart, “Oh, I’m very sorry. Carry on, but we do want to leave soon.”

Luca has a smug smile on his face, one that rivals the many you’ve seen on Jack. He hastily walks backwards out of the kitchen, but not before tossing his brother a wink. Humiliation fills your veins as you quietly go back to washing the last few dishes in silence, not trusting yourself to speak. However, Nico mistakes your silence as a sign that he had misread the situation and he puts all of his focus on getting done.

The two of you finish not too long after, filtering out into the main room where the others are waiting to leave. There was no subtlety in their glances, but you ignored it and walked to stand by Charlie before they began going over the plan again. The six of you were going to some bar that they love and meet up with some of Nico’s old friends before coming back to sleep.

After everyone was in agreement, you split into two cars and made your way to the bar. Charlie was texting you the entire drive, trying to get the details of what happened in the kitchen, but you told her it was nothing. She didn’t believe you, saying she’s been third wheeling the whole time and there’s just no way it was nothing. Though she dropped it when you asked her how Jack was doing, noting that he hadn’t been texting you nearly as often as her. 

When you arrived at the destination, you filed out of the car and fell in line with Nina and Finn as they led the way inside. Nerves were pricking your skin the closer you got, suddenly feeling more out of place than you had the entire trip. You were no longer going to be surrounded by strangers, you were going to be surrounded by people from Nico’s life here. The thought alone made you nauseous. 

Luca trailed behind you as you walked inside and through the sea of people, quite a few of them greeting Nico and his siblings with smiles and hello’s. You felt small when their gazes would fall on you and Charlie, your mind wandering to the most anxious thoughts of what they could be saying about you. With one glance at you, Nico could see through the thin veil of calmness you had draped over yourself.

As Nina and Finn settled at the table, Nico was leaning down to your ear as he spoke, “Do you want to go with me to get a drink?”

You quickly nodded, knowing the alcohol would help ease some of the nerves. You asked Charlie if she wanted anything, but she said she was fine for now and that she would get something later. You followed Nico up to the bar, making a few stops so he could talk to someone, sitting on the bar stool he gestured to. 

Nico placed his hand on the exposed part of the seat, his arm pressed against your back as he leaned forward to order a round of drinks for everyone. You tried not to let the effects of his touch show, but anyone who knew you could see that it left you frazzled. He looks down at you, giving you a small smile to attempt and bring you some sort of comfort, and it works at first. Until you hear the sound of a delicate voice directly behind you.

“Nico! Ich wusste nicht, dass du in der Stadt bist.” (​​Nico! I didn't know you were in town.)

You glance over your shoulder, noticing the way Nico quickly retracts his arm to his side as he slightly turns towards her. A beautiful blonde girl stands there with a bright smile on her face, and it feels like an exceptionally harsh reminder that you were virtually nobody even more so here than you were in Jersey. You watch as they engage in a brief conversation you barely understood before she looks at you.

“Uh, Y/N, this is Julia. She’s an old friend,” Nico awkwardly introduces, not looking away from her as you turn towards them.

You try not to read too far into his body language, but he makes it difficult when he completely turns away from you. He angles himself so that he’s covering a quarter of your body, and it makes your body heat up in embarrassment. You cast your eyes to the ground, but what the girl in front of you says nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Don’t be silly, Nico. I’m his ex-girlfriend.”

next part

[milswrites]

Unspoken Love

~ Eris Vanserra X Fem!Reader

Summary: All the ways in which Eris shows you he loves you.

Warnings: Fluffy goodness. Nudity (non-sexual). Period cramps.

Notes: This is for everyone who just longs to see Eris happy and in love (and more specifically for @searchingforbucky because I never would have written this if it wasn’t for you)

A Hopeless Prince

Eris had a silver tongue.

Centuries of speaking in court allowing him to become a master at crafting words. The Autumn Prince blessed with the gift of bending truths and delivering commands as though they were the sweetest poetry.

And yet, despite his eloquence in speech, Eris had one problem.

A cursed inability to voice his feelings.

It was a skill the red-haired prince had never required, a mask of cool indifference being the best item a male could wear in court. Emotions were a weakness that Eris couldn't allow himself to have on display, not in Autumn.

Until he met you. Then suddenly and all at once Eris found himself a victim to his own heart's desire.

A single look, that was all that was needed for Eris Vanserra to fall in love. One look and the male was certain he had found his equal.

Yet despite the instantaneous nature of his feelings for you, Eris found his tongue locked in your presence. The three words which he so longed to tell you caged within the confines of his mouth.

Eris loved you.

An all consuming love in which the heat of his desire burned brighter than any inferno he could muster with his own palms. And yet he still couldn't find the words to tell you this. But despite his inability to voice his emotions, Eris fought against his insecurities to make sure he let you know the depths of his feelings in other ways.

He made sure to tell you with the soothing tea he made for you each morning. With the gentle kiss he always laid upon your cheek as you stirred from your slumber. He made sure you knew with his sweet compliments and admiring eyes as he soaked in your radiant beauty for as long as you would allow.

Eris loved you.

He only hoped that one day he would be able to tell you this himself.

A Comforting Presence

Time was a scarce luxury for you and Eris.

Between his courtly duties and your equally busy schedule, quality time together was a rare sight.

Whenever you managed to find a moment of peace, free from your responsibilities and ready to devote all of your attention to the Autumn Prince, Eris always had the rotten luck of being called away to another task.

Which is why you often found yourself in this position; tucked away in a hidden area of the library, curled up with a good book whilst you waited for Eris to finish his daily obligations. The books you read acting as a blissful escape from the usually restless bustle of the Autumn Court.

It was all to easy for you to hide from reality between the inked pages. To allow your mind to freely wander amongst the stories while the time slowly passed until you could see Eris again. Working your way through Autumn's large expanse of literature as each day came and went.

So it was no wonder how in your dream-like trance you didn't notice the watchful figure admiring you from afar. It took three attempts of Eris softly clearing his throat before he was able to capture your attention and draw your gaze from the book in your hands. Tensing, your alarmed eyes swiftly flew towards the source of the sound, your muscles relaxing upon seeing the familiar face of your lover.

You took the time to admire Eris where he stood, shameless eyes raking over his well-defined figure before coming to a stop at the stack of documents which were clutched tightly in his hands.

"Another meeting?" you quietly ask with a sad smile, assuming that Eris had only dropped by for a short respite and a quick hello before he needed to return to his obligations.

Eris approached you, placing a delicate kiss onto your temple before moving to sit down in the armchair beside you. "Actually," he started, the low rumble of his voice cutting through the silence of the library, "I thought I might finish off my work here, if that is alright with you of course?"

You didn't fail to miss the light dusting of redness which blossomed on Eris's cheeks, nor the embarrassed edge to his tone as he spoke. Worried that the male would allow his insecurities to take control, you stretched out your hand to entwine it with his own, locking together your fingers as your thumb moved to rub soothing circles into his skin.

"I'd love nothing more" you answered honestly, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

The two of you sat in a peaceful silence, Eris beginning to work through his papers and you picking up your story from where you left off. Yet despite your different activities your hands remained placed in each other's, Eris placing the occasional kiss onto the back of your own whenever he sat back to ponder over what he was writing.

The two of you didn't speak; you didn't need to. Not when the comfort of each other's company was enough. It could have been hours until words were exchanged between you once more, the silence broken by a gasp escaping from your lips as you reached an exciting part of your story. Intrigued, Eris looked over to where you were sat.

"What is it?" he asked, straining his neck to peer over and try and catch a glimpse of your book. Interested eyes flashing over to your own wide ones.

"Nothing, sorry! Something big just happened, I'll try to stay quiet" you promised, afraid that if you were to disturb Eris from his work he would leave to finish it elsewhere.

Eris slowly nodded in acknowledgement, turning back to his papers to continue his writings, and yet it was impossible to stop his amber eyes from travelling back to your face. Brows knitting together as he took in the bright glint in your eye and the curling of your lips as you read.

Needing to satisfy his curiosity, Eris asked you once more, "What is it? What are you smiling at?"

"Shouldn't you be working?" you teased, noting the nosy way in which the Autumn Prince was trying to snoop at the page you were reading.

"Work can wait" he huffed, snatching the book from your hands, "I'm more interested in what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours."

And as you sat in Eris's lap, happily chatting away as his work laid unfinished and forgotten, the male promised himself he would always make time for you. Because no job, nor meeting, would ever be more important than getting to see you smile.

A Helping Hand

A groan of frustration tore from your lips as you entered your shared chambers. Distressed eyes meeting the teasing stare of your amused lover who was sprawled across the bed, no doubt having been waiting for your arrival.

A soft chuckle leaving Eris's lips at the sight of your disheveled form, "Difficult day, Little Fox?"

Having finally reached the sanctuary of your room, the weight of the days trials finally settled as your eyes began to uncomfortably sting with tears. Noticing your crumbling composure, Eris swiftly made his way over from the bed to where you were stood, gentle hands coming to rest against your cheeks as his searching eyes scanned over your frame.

Your appearance clearly worrying him as the male immediately pulled you into a crushing embrace.

Face now pressed into the exposed skin of Eris's chest where the top of his shirt was splayed open, you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the familiar scent of your partner. The smell of him alone enough to bring you the comfort you needed. The Autumn Prince held your tears at bay, both by the gentle caress of his hands against your body and the soothing murmurings of solace he offered you.

It was only when your breathing steadied, and the irregular pounding of your heart had subsided, did Eris then allow himself to pull away. "Do you want to talk about it?" Eris asked tentatively, lifting a tender hand to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear, "Or would you just like me to take care of you?"

Your heart lovingly ached at the male's compassion, his words the same ones you recite to him each time he comes back to your chambers forlorn and dejected after a difficult day.

"Will you take care of me?" you asked your prince, a single tear falling down your cheek. Not at the expense of your terrible day, but at the overwhelming surge of empathy swimming in your lover's eyes.

"Always" Eris replied, kissing away your lonely tear.

The Autumn Prince needn't be told what to do; silently leading you to the bed with a promise of returning.

You waited patiently for the male as he prepared your bath, the male filling the tub with an assortment of luxurious oils and healing salts. It was only when Eris was satisfied with the temperature of the steaming water, did he then return to carry you into the bathroom.

Eris's hands worked to aid you in unlacing the corset of your dress before he gathered the silk of the slip underneath to help remove it from your exhausted frame. Once free from the confines of your clothing, Eris supportively held your hand as he carefully assisted you in getting into the bath. Allowing you to adjust to the temperate waters before moving behind you to wash your hair.

Eris had the hands of a prince, smooth and unscarred, free from the marks of labor. Yet despite the polished nature of his nimble fingers, they worked wonders whilst running through your dampened hair and massaging your aching scalp. Each gentle rub as he worked the pine scented soap into your hair being enough to draw sounds of contented pleasure from your lips.

Your love was an expert at knowing what you needed, and as he worked to was the pollutant worried of the day gone by from your skin, Eris filled your ears with light-hearted stories of his own day.

It wasn't long before the sweet sound of laughter filled the room, memories of your sour day long forgotten as you merrily conversed with your partner.

The only thing that mattered in this moment of time was him.

And as your eyes caught Eris periodically sinking his hands into the lukewarm water to rise its temperature to an adequate level, you knew there was no one else in the world you would rather have take care of you. No man that you would rather love.

A Treasured Gift

Life with Eris meant you needn't want for anything.

He made sure to spoil you with more dresses than you would ever need and your collection of jewels had grown so large they now spilled from the box you kept them in.

But your favourite gift you had received from Eris wasn't the diamond encrusted tiara he had given you for your birthday, nor the prize mare he had surprised you with on the anniversary of your relationship.

No, the best gift Eris had ever given you was his mind, scrawled between the pages of a book. . .

Your lover's nerves were almost tangible as he approached, hands hidden behind his back as he slowly stalked in your direction. Low whispers of self-encouragement upon his lips as he set his determined eyes on you.

It was unusual, to see the usually confident male blanching in your presence, all colour drawn from his usually lifeful cheeks. Eris’s foot tapping restlessly against the floor when he finally came to a stop before you.

You made to greet your prince with a kiss, but Eris's shaky words interrupted your action. "I have something for you" he said, offering you an anxious smile as your brows raised in surprise, thoughts racing as you desperately tried to remember whether this day held any important significance that you had forgotten.

Noting your panicked expression Eris immediately blurted, "It's nothing big! Just something small I've been working on for you."

Eris was slow to draw his hands from behind his back, nervous eyes meeting your curious ones as you took in what he was holding.

"A book?" you asked, taking it from his slightly trembling hand in order to cast your inspecting gaze of the cover. Tales of the heart. Your favourite story.

A book you have read over a dozen times before. So why would Eris gift you a copy of a book you already owned? Sure your copy was tattered and well loved, but did it really require a replacement?

Ever the perceptive male, Eris inhaled deeply before explaining the reasoning of his gift, "I know I'm not the best at voicing how I feel. . . So I thought you could read it instead."

His expectant eyes urged you to open the book, so you did just that.

Peeling back the cover, you were greeted with Eris's familiar penmanship, the black ink which marked the page curling into words which made your heart swell:

You are my everything, nothing more and nothing less.

With watery eyes you eagerly flicked through the book, breath catching in your throat as you observed the ink covered pages. Eris had underlined all his favourite passages, each one accompanied by scribbles of his comments and opinions, the margins overflowing with carefully worded text.

Here in your hands you held a window into Eris's soul. His emotions laid bare across each page, exposing his mind and sharing his thoughts.

This little book, which fit snugly into the palm of your hand, was an offering. An invitation to get to know the male better, to understand Eris in his entirety.

Finding yourself lost for words you did the only thing you could do, pulling the Autumn Prince into a heated kiss of appreciation. Arms flying around his neck in an attempt to draw him in closer, doing your best to pour every ounce of love and praise into each gentle caress of your lips against his.

Anticipation growing in your chest at the prospect of delving into the book later on in the day, eagerly awaiting your exploration of Eris Vanserra’s mind.

A Heated Touch

You were in agony.

Bound to your bed, wallowing in your own misery as you clutched onto your abdomen with the hope of quelling the rising tide of pain.

It was that time of the year, your aching body signaling the unwelcome arrival of your cycle.

Eris had been reluctant to leave you this morning, worried about your ability to take care of yourself. Despite wanting nothing more than to spend the day wrapped in the loving arms of your partner, you half-heartedly pushed him from your bed, knowing the male had an abundance of dull meetings to attend today.

Yet now as you laid under your covers, curled into a ball as you miserably absorbed each aching stab of pain, you wished that you had never sent Eris away. Your suffering only increasing as the hours passed by.

You would search for your lover if you could, call him from his meetings and draw him back to your bed, but with a head like cotton and a body like lead you had no choice but to lay with your torturous discomfort in solitude.

Though thankfully, Eris had other plans. Unsatisfied with leaving his partner to suffer alone during her cycle, he had spent the morning postponing his meetings and delegating his work elsewhere. Anxiously wishing away the time until he was able to return to his chambers and take care of you.

Wasting no time once the rearrangement of his tasks had been completed, hurrying to the kitchen to make you a healing cup of medicinal tea before making his way to your shared room.

Opening the door to find you exactly where he had left you, huddled under the covers and eyes tightly closed as you tried to wait out wave after wave of pulsating pain.

Heart clenching at the sight of you in agony, Eris uttered curses to the gods for bestowing you with a pain that he could not fix. Sympathy flooding into his eyes as he came to sit by your side, raising a comforting hand to brush against your cheek and pull you from your fitful slumber.

"My poor Little Fox" he empathetically cooed, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose as you stirred from your sleep. Eyes blinking open, a weak smile graced your lips as the welcoming sight of your lover greeted you.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, brows furrowing at the wince which crossed your face as you turned your body to face him better.

"Will you hold me?" you pouted lamely, tears threatening to fall now your partner was here to comfort you.

"Of course" Eris answered, needing no further instruction as he moved to climb into the bed behind you, arms reaching out across the sheets to pull you towards him until your back pressed against his chest. A pained whimper drawing from your lips as he did so, Eris cursing himself for bringing you more anguish.

"May I try something?" Eris asked, seeking your permission for what he was about to do. Nausea building in your throat, you feebly nodded. What was the worse that could happen when you already felt like death itself?

Careful not to disturb you too much, Eris snaked his hands around your middle, moving them down towards your aching abdomen before allowing his hands to gradually heat to a bearable temperature.

A deep breath of satisfaction escaped from your lips at his heated touch. The ghost of Eris's flames working to quell your pain and soothe your aching.

"You are never leaving my side again" you giggled in relief, bringing your hands to rest against his own in the hope of absorbing each remnant of heat which Eris provided you with.

"That is something we can agree on" Eris purred, drawing you into his embrace further still, warm lips brushing against your neck as he continued, "There is nowhere else I would rather be."

And as Eris watched you fall into a blissful slumber, contented smiles resting upon each of your faces, the Autumn Prince could have sworn that the three words he so longed to tell you were patiently waiting on the tip of his tongue.

A Lover's Vow

It had taken you weeks to read through Eris's gift. Having opted to take the time to appreciate each little comment your partner had scribbled onto the pages.

Each word you read opening your eyes to a new side of the Autumn Prince, showing you glimmers of a male that felt and felt deeply. Every new thing you learnt about your lover working to crack the mask which he so often wore.

Now reaching the end of your story you didn't want it to end. You wanted - no needed- to learn everything you could about the male, feeling as though this gift had only scratched the surface when it came to introducing you to the mystery that was Eris Vanserra.

You had laughed, you had cried, and now turning to finish the final page you only longed to experience it all again.

Your curiosity would never be satisfied, not when it came to Eris.

Why is why you were pleasantly surprised, that when the final words had been read, a sealed letter which had been hidden between the pages dropped into your lap. The crimson ink which adorned the envelope staring right back at you as your wide eyes took in the message that was addressed to you.

Your happy ending, Little Fox.

You weren't sure why your heart had stopped at the sight of the letter, nor were you able to explain why your hands trembled nervously as you tore open the paper. Shaking as you removed the note which had been neatly tucked inside.

Pearlescent tears began to fall down your blushing cheeks as you read Eris's words, failing to even finish the letter before you had jumped on your feet and began to run.

You were unsure of where you were heading, but the one thing you were certain of was that Eris would be at the end of it. The letter now crumpled within your tight grip as you ran, afraid to let it go and lose the words which you had been so desperate to hear.

So you didn't stop, allowing your feet to carry you towards Eris, towards your answers. Only slowing down to catch your breath when you saw your partner outside, leading his horse back to the stables through the torrential rain.

Uncaring of the fact your clothes were not appropriate for the miserable weather, you closed the distance between you and the male. Mud splashing at your calves as you rushed towards him.

Eris didn't fail to miss your sodden figure running towards him, eyes blowing wide in alarm at your sudden appearance. Worried for your sanity, he immediately dropped the reins from his hands as he ran to meet you halfway.

"What are you doing?" he exclaimed, concerned eyes taking in the sorry state of your wild appearance, the male moving to grip your arm and move you towards shelter but not before you had forcefully ripped your arm from his hold.

"Is it true?" you asked, your silver tears mixing with the cooling rain which was beating against your flushed face.

"Is what true?" Eris cried, brows knitted together in confusion until his gaze dropped to the letter clutched tightly in your hand and then suddenly it all made sense.

"Yes. . ." he weakly replied after a moment, his surprise at your unexpected appearance having stolen his words.

"You love me?" you pressed further, taking a step closer to your anxious partner, lifting your fist which held the now sodden letter, "What you wrote, do you mean it?"

Eris scoffed at the ridiculous nature of your question, "Mean it? Of course I mean it, I wouldn't write it if I didn't."

"Say it" you ordered, "Please. I need to hear you say it."

The old Eris would have walked away, ignored your demands and fought against his tempestuous emotions. He would have never been able to express how he felt, unable to allow the words to escape from his lips.

Yet with one look at you, saturated hair clinging to your cheeks as you looked towards the male in desperation, Eris could feel his mask slipping. The stone veil falling from his face before it dropped to the ground and shattered.

And for the first time in your life you were staring at the true face of Eris Vanserra.

Tears streaming down his face as he allowed the wave of his once hidden emotions to crash over him.

"I love you" he confessed, burning stare meeting your own, "gods I love you."

A delighted laugh broke from the males lips as the weight of his confession lifted from his chest, hands flying to your smiling cheeks as the truth of his affections continued to flow, "Mind, body, soul, I'm yours. All of me. Mask or no mask, I have always belonged to you. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you this sooner."

"But I knew, Eris" you cried along with your partner, the heated touch of his warming palms enough to burn your tears away as they came, "Even though you never said it aloud I always knew, because you showed it to me in every way that counts. You have never failed to make me feel anything but loved."

"And do you?" he asked through heavy breaths, "Do you feel the same for me as I do for you?"

"Eris Vanserra" you beamed up at the male before you, eyes glistening as you absorbed the rawness of his heartfelt expression, " I have loved you since before I ever even knew you, and I always will. My heart belongs to you Eris, until my dying breath."

Unable to stop the sob which tore from his lips, Eris allowed himself to cry, arms coming to wrap around your middle in a crushing embrace as he sought to stabilize his trembling frame.

"I think I'm going to need a new letter" you mumbled into his chest, the ruined piece of paper having fallen to the rain-soaked ground in the midst of your embrace.

"I'll write you a thousand more if that's what you want" Eris promised, lips coming to softly press against you head as his tears subsided, "But I think I'd rather tell you how I feel from now on."

"I'd like that" you replied staring up at the male you loved so dearly, "I'd like that very much."

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

Notes: Ahhh I love this fic so much! Thank you @sarawritestories for holding my hand and walking me through this 😂

[tinkizzig]

Humans have always had their finger on the trigger, they are always ready to strike, and yet they relax and are calm whenever you see them. This bi-polar like response is terrifying to many in the universe and most seem to see the humans as always ruthless and bloodthirsty, which they really are. 

Morgranff: I can’t believe how ruthless a fighter that human was, did you see how it bent itself in the air to avoid that strike from the Horned Goliath?

Stencillon: Yeah, I saw it, it cost me my whole night's bets.

Morgranff: You bet against a human?

Stencillon: The Goliath was twice his size, that human didn’t stand a chance if you looked at the physics of the fight.

Morgranff: Yeah, they are often overlooked when it comes to the ridiculous agility and chaos that goes with every human. 

Stencillon: Well, I also never thought that a human leg was capable of slicing through the thick neck of a Horned Goliath especially when its horns interlock over the neck and act as natural armor. That fight clearly showed how vicious and deadly a human truly is. 

Morgranff: Of course, I haven’t stopped betting on the humans ever since I had made that very mistake, that being said, can I buy you a drink?

Stencillon: Yes, I would love to celebrate your winnings with you.

The two start walking down the bustling corridor of the “Fight Palace”, and both freeze at the sight of the, now clean of Goliath blood, human fighter they had just watched dispatch the Goliath.

Stencillon: Why do they let humans walk around freely like this? Shouldn’t they keep such a vicious predator in a cage?

Margranff: You know I have never understood it either. Humans are far too unpredictable and I have never felt safe around them unless I am on the other side of the barrier fence at a fight. 

Stencillon: Should we go around the other way?

Margranff: Yes, but what is the human doing? 

Stencillon: I don’t know but it is approaching that child over there, I am going to call security.

The human crouched down next to the clearly homeless Maldovian child. The child’s blue skin ruffled as the human carefully spoke in hushed tones.

Margranff: What is he after with that kid?

The human pulls out a roll of dollar bills from his pocket and separates a few offering them to the child. The child reluctantly takes the money and stands up by taking the hand of the human that had just been offered up following the cash. They slowly walk together to a food cart and talk to the Purveyor of meat kabobs. The child selects its food and the human steps up to pay for the food.

Margranff (whispering to himself): Is he going to eat the child?

Stencillon (on a communications device): yes, the human is doing something with a homeless Maldovian child…. I don’t know his intention, he is a human!... I won’t interfere, that is why I am calling you…. Yes, I feel like I am in danger, the fight winning human is walking around doing unpredictable things.

The human and the child sit together against the wall in the corridor and chat while an amplified voice from the stadium calls out a new fight in the ring. The child is really just stuffing his face and nodding as the human goes on and on about something that is important to him but definitely not important to the child.

Stencillon: the security officer is on his way. 

Margranff: Good thing too, there is definitely something up with what this human is doing, even though I can’t put my finger on it. 

A security guard comes running up and slows to a stop at the sight of the human. The guard turns his head to one side contorting his face in total confusion as he tries to take in the scene. The guard stops analyzing everything and starts psyching himself up to go talk to the human. The guard sort of stretches and sort of hops around trying to get up the courage when he suddenly freezes.

Margranff: Did the security guard just scare himself or something? 

Stencillon: No, look, there are two other humans that just showed up. 

The two newly arrived humans walk straight over to the first one who is still talking to the child who has already finished eating the food he had. They interrupt what the first human is saying and the first human gets up on his feet and bares his teeth at the two interlopers before they stand against each other and start squeezing each other.

Stencillon: are they beginning to wrestle?

Margranff: If they are fighting, what do you bet the first one loses to the other two?

The security guard had been nervously calling for backup this whole time and is still in disbelief that this already dangerous call had tripled in danger before he had even started. The guard feeling defenseless pulls out his weapon aiming at the humans who had now switched the wrestling to the first and third human. 

Stencillon: this is going to end badly, if that guard shoots one of them the other two will rip him to shreds. 

Margranff: At least this situation will end with the child being rescued.

The humans start pointing to the child after unlocking their arms from the wrestling lock they were in. the three of them begin raising their voices at each other.

Human #3: COME ON….ANOTHER….CHILD….EAT!

Human #2: YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME.

The third human walks over to the kabob cart and starts talking to the vendor.

Margranff: Are they going to eat the child? 

Stencillon: That’s what I just heard, they must be checking with the food cart guy to see if he will cook the child for them.

The large burly Maldovian Head of security shows up walking casually to the security guard, lowering the nervously held weapon, tells him to stand down. 

Stencillon: head of security is here, I am going to get closer and see what happens.

Margranff: I’ll come with you. 

The third human turns around from the cart holding a lot of food. He walks over and hands the child one before handing one to each of the other humans. The Head of security steps over to them just as Stencillon and Margranff get close enough to observe while still remaining at a relatively safe distance.

Head of security: Steeeeve? 

The first human deflates knowing he was in for a lecture and some disappointment. 

Head of security: How many times have I told you, you can’t adopt the children that hangout around here.

Steve: But Orri, the kid is homeless.

Orri (head of security): No, this kid’s name is BahOni, he lives down the street from here, he lives with his brother, sisters and both his parents, he cannot be adopted. He probably heard from a friend about a prize winning fighter who buys lonely kids food and gives them money. 

Steve: I know, I know, but I…

Orri: NO!