#but if i am going to be so very honest the urge to move is one step removed from the urge to go cliff diving off a hundred foot cliff

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[devotioncrater]

.

[kkrymiii]

"No need to be sober"

G!p Kim minjeong x Fem reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

MDNI! (Not proofread!)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

CW: smut, pet names, drunk asf, mafia, no protection :0, perv minjeongie idk seems like it

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

At the mafia bosses party, in his mansion, her daughter named minjeong or winter, was having fun drinking and chatting with her friends, The mafia bosses daughter, just arrived at the party actually. Being late due to not wanting to attend... But then Suddenly something caught minjeongs eyes... SOMEONE to be exact.

Minjeong immediately locked her eyes at. You..

Winter walks over to you, slowly walking over to her, making eye contact the whole time not breaking once

“You are really pretty.”

Winter smiled, she got quite shy for a few seconds. "eh?" I replied shocked and awkward from the sudden move of a random girl on me. Winter keeps smiling, she looked genuinely interested in you “Your eye makeup is really good you know, along with your dark red lips.” Winter leaned towards you more.

but as I was about to respond to her.

"alright jeongie stop being a creep when your drunk leave the pretty girl alone" a sharped eyed girl, wearing a black dress that hugged her curves perfectly said. It was minjeongs younger sister. Minjeong gets yanked back, she was pretty wasted but she was trying to fight the urge to take another sip of her whiskey. She looked at her sister “But she’s so pretty, she’s very gorgeous, I could kiss her right now and she’d probably fall in love with me."

"your whiskey ass smelling breath probably would not be the best for her to taste.. anyways ma'am I apologize with my sisters actions" the younger sister said sighing STILL trying to yank minjeong but she wouldn't budge. Minjeong laughs and shakes her head slightly "don’t apologize, she’s very pretty, I actually thought she’d like me back.” She gets yanked back by her younger sis but she’s not resisting at all, she looks very dazed

"minjeong let's go father's gonna scold you again.." the younger sister sighed her patience running thin. “Ugh, you’re ruining my fun, she’s so pretty, I’m gonna kiss her, and she’s gonna love me, I’m gonna be her wife.” Minjeong keeps trying to get free from her sibling so she can go over to the beautiful girl. "What?.. your disgusting... you know father's no gonna allow you to date someone you just found at the party.... And who even is this girl... " The younger looked up at you scanning your face. You had a sheepish expression clearly awkward from the situation.

But then suddenly. Minjeong darts across the room again, to try and get to her, she has absolutely no control over how much she’s drinking so she’s pretty much wasted Minjeong finally manages to get over to her, and she immediately hugs the girl, and squeezes her in to a bear hug, the girl smells so good too, like pure honey.

"Ahh-.. I'm.. sorry are you okay?" You gulped not knowing what to do with this girl..your hands floating in the air, But for Minjeong it's the opposite. Minjeong is in heaven, she’s having the best time in her life. “Yes… yes I am… I am so drunk, but right now I feel like I’m in l-luuuv.” Minjeong says really slowly and drawn out, her words slurring together and her face is extremely hazy and red.

"Ah-.. this.. this face?" You muttured as you recognized the face. "Y...you.. are the mafia's boss daughter?" Minjeong slowly nods “Yeah… he’s the most amazing father ever, I love my sisters too.” She keeps squeezing her, she’s so comfortable, so comfortable to hold, she starts burying her head onto your neck. You couldn't help but giggle a little bit finding this girls words funny "uh-.. I'm sorry but..are you okay?..you seem really drunk." You said clearing your throat trying to be responsible now.

"I’ll be honest… I’m absolutely wasted but all I can think about is you. I love you." Minjeong keeps squeezing her tightly, and she hugs her close, pulling her into a embrace. You gulped looking at her as your eyes scramble everywhere. "Whaa- but we just met tho?"

“I don’t care… you’re mine now, I don’t care we just met, I just fell in love with you.” Minjeong keeps sniffing her and pressing her face into her neck more and more, she can’t get enough of her, she wants to be with her, kiss her and marry her. "wait.. how about let's go to the bathroom and wet your face.. you seem really drunk.. and your father wouldn't want to see you like that yeah?" You suggested. Minjeong sighs and pouts, she was absolutely infatuated with you, and she hated having to leave your side “Fineeeee!” Minjeong pouts as she finally lets go of you and walks into the bathroom, she was very grumpy and looked extremely disappointed. "uh! Wait don't walk like that you might fall" you said catching up to minjeong holding her as they make they're wait to the bathroom. Minjeong doesn’t fight, and lets herself be dragged along, she holds your arm and leans into you to keep you beside her “You’re so beautiful, I wanna kiss you.” Minjeong whispers at your ear, she’s being really clingy with her.

"What the hell does her father feed her." You thought to yourself but kept a warn awkward smile at her as you lead her to the bathroom. As you guys arrived at the bathroom, you immediately helped Minjeong, making her wet her face with water as you handed her a handkerchief. And this girl leans on the sink staring at you for a whopping 5 minutes Minjeong sighs, not letting you go as she lets you wet her face, when she’s done she looks up at you “.....ughh.... your so pretty, I want to kiss you right now, right here.” Minjeong leans in to try and kiss you with her whiskey drenched lips. " i- I don't think this is allowed.." you dodged it swiftly, backing up creating distance.

Minjeongs pouting gets even more obvious the more she gets rejected, she gets really jealous at the fact that she isn’t getting what she wants, she can’t stand the rejection "You have no choice… I want to kiss you.” Minjeong leans in again and goes for a kiss for the 100th time. Minjeong uses all the strength she has left and is completely force kissing this time, your lips just feel so good to her and she just wants to stay kissing them. Minjeong keeps going, pushing her body against hers, kissing you on the lips so aggressively. Minjeong keeps kissing her, but not a simple kiss, but a aggressive and possessive kiss, as if she’s saying mine to you, that she’s hers, and she’s not allowed to get with anyone else but her. Minjeong holds you even closer, not letting her go. She just gets more and more aggressive with the kisses and she starts to go deeper, it’s getting slightly obsessive and possessive, as if she’s trying to claim her as her own. Minjeong grabs your hips tightly and forces her closer

Minjeong goes even deeper, as if she’s trying to suck the soul out of her. “Mineee, mine I tell you, you’re mine mine mine.” Minjeongs lips are already slightly swollen and have some slight bruising from the intense kissing that she has been doing with you, but to her it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t let go.

Soon you were bent over holding onto the sink for her dear life as minjeong was ramming into her pussy with her dick.

"Fu- fuck! Better than I..ah.. imagined" Minjeong panted as she grabbed your waist drilling herself into you. You were taking it like a good girl. You could hear minjeongs babbles and heavy breathes as she's clearly drunk asf. "Baby baby!.. fuck... I'm.. I I want to fuck you until you can't remember anything" minjeong moaned as she leaned over still rocking her hips into you as she aggressively placed kisses all over your back, making you moan and shiver.

"Ah.. pleas..ee please minjeong" you moaned out as you already were seeing the stars. Why the hell was this girl so good with her thrust game!? "Hell.. yeah!.. haha.. fuck fuck.. I'm gonna Impregnate you" minjeong chuckled as she fixed your guys position. Lifting your leg up to her shoulders now hitting more of your good spots making you moan out loud losing control, as tears fell out of your face.

"Wah?! Fuck! Ah.. good! Too much!!" You cried out trying to grab onto something but ended up grabbing onto the sink again as you were getting fucked hard by the mafia's bosses daughter. You felt ashamed at the same time since you were also a daughter of a 'scary family' if you know what I mean. But seeing yourself get this submissive over another girl who was apart of another family that was apart of the mafia shattered your ego Abit... But who cares she's hot asf and good ay sex :3

"Wahh- shi shit! Slut.. I'm coming! Makei.. eu.. ah- my wife! Mineeee!" Minjeong moaned drool dripping out of her mouth as her thrusts became more harder. She was pulling out and then slamming hard as she can, clearly teasing. "Wh.. ah.. fuck hurts- pl..please" you cried out, even if you couldn't see it it was clear due to the hard slamming red marks were definitely being made.

"Coming! Ta.. take it all!" Minjeong said as she thrusted one more time, as she released in you filling you up. You could feel her cock twitching adding to the pleasure as you came too, your liquids mixing as you two rode it out.

Minjeong then leaned in to you laying her head on your collar bone inhaling your scent as she gently rocked her hips getting friction riding the release of you two out. As minjeong pulled out she looked down at you, her eyes softening as she pulled you into a hug.

"My wife... No need to be sober to fall in love." She muttured peppering your neck with kisses. You didn't know how to respond so you just carressed her hair letting her do what she wanted.....

And let's just say as you to fixed yourself and dressed yourself back up and went out of the bathroom. You and minjeong went separate ways, her with her friends and family and you with your friends and family too, you couldn't help ofcourse but stare at her direction and seeing from afar that she was definitely getting scolded by her younger sibling. Which she said was named ningning, and her older sibling named karina...

You couldn't help but giggle from afar.

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (8)

↳ 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, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode nine

9:21 AM.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of your index finger drumming a slow and steady cadence against the table was nearly in perfect synchronization to the tick tock of the clock above the wall behind you. An icy, uninviting atmosphere was the best way to describe the current situation inside the conference room at this time of the morning, with the gelid detachment between the boss and her employees as you built a wall—an impenetrable wall—around yourself to keep the inner turmoil you had in your head. 

So, you listened. You succumbed to silence as a result. 

“I’d like to present this new idea that we, along with the ecommerce team, have come up with to increase engagement on our website.” Even as the marketing manager started to speak, you remained frigid. “We did go through some feedback that people have been posting online and they’re mostly saying that the current web theme is too plain and that they’re hoping to see a more engaging website, so we would love to propose some ideas that could improve Hearte’s overall online presence. We know that keeping the brand’s look consistent is very important, especially now that Hearte is still establishing its own name in the fashion industry, and we have currently done a phenomenal job with our brand style. However, as the online website is our visual storefront, not only is its functionality critical, but we also have to ensure that the web design is in line with our aesthetics.” 

9:26 AM. 

You leaned back on your chair with your arms crossed, looking up to speak to the manager from across the conference room. “Let’s keep the unnecessary introduction short and just go straight to the point,” you strictly announced, receiving curious eyes in return as it was their first time seeing you becoming all stern and unamused. Such an odd sight to see from a boss who used to have the brightest of sunshines reflecting on her smile. “What’s the proposal?” 

The marketing manager cleared her throat and moved her presentation onto the next slide. “Yes, Ms. Y/N. So… uh, based on the data that you can see on the screen, our online sales increased by 15% for the past two weeks, but we still have about 10% of shoppers abandoning their shopping carts. Earlier this week, we set up email campaigns and social reminders to decrease our abandonment rate and urge shoppers to return to their carts. While working with the IT team, we did some A/B testing to determine which version would drive our business metrics. We’ve also reached out to The Society Management and added Kendall Jenner to our PR list so that possibly, in the future, we can get her as a model for our landing page and attract the western market,” she continuously explained in a manner to convince you of how much effort their department was doing to increase Hearte’s sales, “But what we believe could bring a tremendous improvement on our website engagement is by introducing style guides. This will capture the interest of the audience now that they can mix and match some outfits based on their own style, and—”

9:32 AM.

Sigh.

“Ms. Ono, I have to be honest, but I expected more from you,” you cut her off by leaving a frank comment on her presentation, “Fashion brands have been doing style guides for years. You make it sound like it’s unique, but it’s nothing new. How sure are we that it will actually bring a dramatic improvement on our website engagement? I doubt most of them would even browse through it.” 

“Well, uh…” The marketing manager faltered, glancing at the head of the social media team for some help, which she didn’t end up receiving. “I think it’ll work the way we want it to as long as we introduce engaging copies that make buyers fall in love with the designs.” 

“You think?” You criticized her word of choice. “Ms. Ono, I gave you enough time to brainstorm with your team, so the moment you step inside of this conference room, you should have prepared whatever strategy you had in mind. I don’t settle for ambitious words like ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’. I want to hear a proposal that’s original, unique, and captivating. I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you know what you’re doing before you waste everyone’s time like this. Do you understand? Am I being clear? I want a proposal that would definitely get us somewhere and not just by assuming we will.” 

Were you being too harsh? They said that the fashion industry in itself was harsh, so what was so surprising about seeing you being strict, candid, and business-like? This was the nature of your job. This was normal. 

9:47 AM. 

Very timidly did Nobara raise her hand beside you to chime in on the discussion. “I know I’m not in the position to make suggestions, but…” She pressed something on her laptop before carefully sliding it to your side of the table, showing you what appears to be a classic early 2000s ‘dress-up game’ with a base model and a selection of outfits that were inspired by your designs. “I just wanted to show you this, Ms. Y/N. I do agree with Ms. Ono’s idea to introduce style guides, but maybe we can do it in an interactive way. I know the dress-up game idea may look childish and unsophisticated, but I was kinda hoping that we can just make certain adjustments so that it could match Hearte’s classy and simplistic style. We can have base models in different body types and skin tones to show our brand’s diversity, then we can have shoppers try dressing them up using the outfits on our current collection. That allows them to easily visualize how the pieces would look on a certain skin tone and body type.” 

The way everyone else in that conference table looked at Nobara was very obvious that they were expecting you to reprimand her for even having the guts to offer such a farcical idea. What does she know? They were probably thinking that. You’re just an intern. You knew they were saying that in their minds. On the other hand, you surprisingly liked her proposal and enjoyed the unique idea of introducing it to the website because her proposal actually did make sense. People would be curious, people would try it out by interacting with the website, and that means the engagement would rise up. 

“I like that idea. We can go with that,” you said, sliding the laptop back to her while nodding at the marketing and social media managers, “I need the team to discuss Nobara’s idea further and polish it thoroughly before we can start adding it onto the website. Make adjustments as needed and ensure that everything is still in line with our brand. If you notice any flaws with this proposal, you can flag them with me and I’ll review them.” 

9:54 AM. 

Just as you were about to wrap up the meeting, a certain someone entered the conference room in haste—panting out of breath with her long, wavy hair and creased red pants. “I’m so sorry, I’m late.” 

Her casualness made you clench your jaws tightly, fueling the fire to your already terrible day. You could no longer stop yourself from unleashing your rage as you looked up at her with a critical squint. “Ms. Hirai, what time’s it?” 

“It’s ten, I know. I’m so sorry,” she repeated her apologies and paid an apologetic bow to everyone in the meeting room, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was caught up in heavy traffic today.” 

You let out a silent scoff and ignored her compunctious act. “How long are we gonna keep using that excuse, really?” you questioned her, earning the intrigued eyes of your employees who were all sensing the sudden tension between you and your best friend, “As the fashion merchandiser and my second-in-command, you should’ve been here in this meeting with me, but where were you? You anticipated that there would be heavy traffic, yet you couldn’t be responsible enough in coming to work early knowing that we have a meeting? Or was it because you’re too busy doing other things so you’re no longer interested in showing up to work on time?” 

Akemi shook her head, contritely. “It’s… It’s not like that.” 

“Not like what?” Your icy stare bored into her. No trace of compassion was present in your eyes. “I’m sure you’re living a very blissful life outside of work and I’m glad you are, but is that also why you don’t bother with anything else anymore?” 

“Y/N—”

“Miss Y/N,” you corrected, “I’m your boss, so treat me like one.” 

Wide, chocolate brown eyes greeted you in response. It was clear that she was at a loss of words and could only repeat her meaningless apologies a thousand times. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Y/N. It won’t happen again.” 

“You didn’t even let me know that you’ll be coming in late,” you continued and ignored the pitiful expression on her face, focusing on her swollen red lips and her dewy, rosy cheeks. She must have had a really good morning to look like a cherry blossom on a spring day. Was she so preoccupied being all lovey dovey with your ex-husband this morning? Did she sleep comfortably on the same marital bed you used to share with him? Your jaw tensed visibly. “You’re just coming in whenever you want. You don’t respect people’s time. You don’t respect my rules. You don’t respect me.” 

Yes, you were overreacting by taking things too personally and it was the reason why you got up from your seat and bolted out of the conference room upon realizing your unusual outburst. You could hear the clicking sound of your stiletto echoing across the corridor as you stomped towards your office, swinging the glass door open and heading straight towards the ceiling-to-floor window to have some peace of mind. Peace? How ridiculous. How could you find peace? You couldn’t even grasp the fact that your best friend was acting like everything was normal. You couldn’t understand why she was rubbing her relationship to your face as if she wasn’t just a placeholder to somebody’s ex wife.

“Y/N?” Akemi’s voice cut you out of your toxic trail of thoughts—your mouth thinning with displeasure while you didn’t bother turning around to meet her gaze. Breathe. You had to breathe and think rationally. “I…I understand you’re really angry right now, but I was hoping we can have this much needed talk.” 

You could feel her reaching for your hand at the height of your frustration and your defensive instinct led you to angrily swing your arm away, accidentally hitting her cheek as you pivoted on your heel to face her. It took two seconds for your eyes to shift from glaring in frustration to widening in surprise after seeing the small cut your diamond ring left on her cheek. “Are you okay?” 

“Y-Yeah, no, it’s fine,” she insisted with her palm pressed onto the right side of her face. “I deserved it.” 

Good lord. What was happening to you? Despite having all these unspoken rage and unresolved conflicts between the two of you, you would still drop everything and be concerned for her. You would still let your walls collapse. You were the villain that couldn’t stick to being a villain. Why? Why did you feel this way? Was it because you knew she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong? Or was it because you were just projecting your personal frustrations onto her? Was betrayal really the issue here? Or was it the huge possibility that she could in fact be Gojou’s one true love? You had thought of this before, but the same questions in your head never stopped. And never did they stop from invading your headspace as you made your way towards the small fridge to grab an ice pack that you soon offered to Akemi, leading her to one of the couches while finally coming into your senses. 

Yet there was silence and nothing but awkward silence when you two sat at a safe distance from each other. 

“I’m shameless.” She was the first one to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I know you’re thinking that and I do agree with you. I really am shameless to even look you in the eye right now.” 

You sighed and looked away, only to keep yourself from the furnace of pain that you had been bottling inside. “Stop. You’re making me seem like a villain right now. I’m tired of seeing myself this way.”

She closed her legs and sat humbly, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. “You’re not. You’re not a villain and you never were,” said the same woman you accidentally smacked a few minutes ago, “I understand why you would feel a certain way towards me. I’d even understand if you hate me so much that you wanna murder me. I’m your best friend and I know about your history with Satoru, yet here I am seeing your ex-husband behind your back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t plan it. I truly didn’t. Even though you’re not together anymore and I’m technically not homewrecking anyone, I’m still putting us—you and I—in a really awkward position. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m very sorry.” 

At least, she was self-aware. But looking at the brighter side of things, you were getting calmer now that you were hearing her side of the story, though that didn’t stop you from feeling any less horrible. “I don’t really care who you date,” you claimed, adamantly, “And I most definitely do not care who Satoru chooses to date. We’ve been divorced for three years.” 

“It’s still not right that I’m seeing him.” She let her guilt speak up for her. 

And you let your resentment speak for you. “Then, why him of all people?”

“It’s…” 

“Complicated?” 

“Y-Yeah…” 

You decided to keep a straight face. “How did this happen?” 

Akemi looked as if you had just forced her to be on the hot seat because of the apathy on your visage. “It was a drunken mistake at first and we kinda just…”

“I’m not asking about when you two started fucking,” you replied, bluntly. Something you had never done before in your usual sophisticated vocabulary. “I’m asking when you realized you have feelings for him. When did you fall in love with him?” 

She had trouble finding the right answer. “It just happened. I d-don’t really know. Whenever you asked me to look after him, I guess the bond he and I developed from that made me see him in a different light.” 

You disregarded the pain in your chest and let the volcano explode on its own, because her answer only meant that she was already growing feelings for your ex-husband at the same time you were confiding to her about him. That was the worst part of it all. 

“Why do you like him?” you questioned further, “Despite knowing what happened while I was married to him, why did you still end up falling in love with him? If that’s so hard to answer, then don’t think about us or me or our friendship. Just think about the decisions you made for yourself. Why are you with Satoru?” 

Her gaze found the floor. Hesitance. Guilt. Shame. Those emotions were all dancing in her eyes in a complete roundabout. While she took a moment to fully reassess her decision, you weren’t sure if you deserved to still feel hurt when she gave you an honest answer. “When I met Satoru, I didn’t meet the toxic, cheating ex-husband that he was known for,” she said, slowly, “I met a man who holds such a high respect for his ex-wife, adores his son like his greatest gift of all, and values his marriage more than anything else in this world. I met a vulnerable man who isn’t afraid to open his heart to strangers. A man who gave me emotional support even when he’s the one who needed it the most. I… It’s hard to explain, but…” 

Was there really anything left to say? Her point was clear, and your silence while she was speaking was more so because you were trying not to let the tiny pricks in your heart affect you further than it already did. The fullness of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she talked about him were enough to tell you that your best friend had truly fallen in love and you would be cruel to take that away from her. Even from him. They would not have been involved in such an intimate relationship if there had been no attraction between them to begin with, so then… Why did it feel like you were being cheated on? She was no Sera, and he was not the Satoru that only used you for his corporate ambitions. It was just Akemi and Satoru—they were each other’s right person at the right time. The only thing blocking their path to a loving relationship was you. 

You. The irrational and spiteful ex-wife. The ex-wife who always played the ‘victim card’. The selfish ex-wife who wanted all the good things to only come her way. 

Well, god be damned, because you were beginning to confuse yourself with the version of you that wasn’t even remotely like you at all. She was just a mirrored image of yourself that you thought people perceived. 

“You can do what you want.” The moment you spoke again, you were already creating a huge wall between you and your best friend, making sure that there were boundaries that none of you should ever cross now that she had chosen to be with someone you had sincerely loved in the past. It may sound like you were letting go, but truth be told, you just didn’t think that you even had the option to hold onto anything. Satoru wasn’t yours and you weren’t his anymore. You were two individuals living separate lives. “If you wanna be with him, that’s your choice. I don’t plan on intervening. It just… just really surprised me that you didn’t have the decency to tell me at all.” 

Akemi nodded, apologetically desperate. “I understand how you’re feeling and I’m sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Y/N.” Her voice and her countenance did show the genuineness in her plea to be forgiven, but you were too numb to feel anything else. “I hope we can stay friends despite everything.” 

How could you even stay friends in a situation like this? 

First option was to keep pretending that their relationship wasn’t bothering you. Second option was to focus on your own relationship with Toji to the point where everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

Yeah, you thought. You could certainly choose the latter. 

“Our friendship isn’t my top priority at the moment,” was your straightforward response to her, “I wanna focus on my son and his relationship with his father. That’s all.” 

Any regular person would have thought: ‘Wow, Y/N. You handled that well.’ ‘You’re so mature.’ ‘You’re a lot calmer than we expected.’ The thing was, you really did think that you had been way too calm about it. In spite of the scene you caused at the conference room, or the dramatic exchange you had with Akemi in your office, you still handled it much better than one would think. In TV shows or movies, the ex-wife would have dragged the best friend to the ground, slapped her face, pulled her hair, started a nasty catfight, and called her all the terrible labels you could think of. Look, part of you wanted to do that. And the other part of you—the sympathetic, altruistic part of you—thought you shouldn’t do that. You would only look pathetic. 

Of all the negative things Satoru had made you feel over the course of your failure of a marriage, this aftermath was probably the toughest. 

You just weren't in the right state of mind to justify why. 

You also couldn’t justify why you had been looking for unhealthy ways to cope with stress and anxiety. If anyone from your family saw you standing at the smoking area near the parking lot right now, they would have given you an earful of how you must be out of your mind for even putting a cigarette stick between your lips. How exactly could tobacco be good for you? You would say, first of all, that nicotine does in fact cause pleasant feelings to distract you from unpleasant ones. You couldn’t find any other way to relax your mind any faster than one cigarette stick could. Besides, staying in the office and seeing Akemi around was getting too suffocating and you couldn’t afford to have your negative mood lingering in your mind for the rest of the day. One stick wouldn’t hurt. Another one wouldn’t, too. And another one should be fine, right? 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

The irony. You didn’t even have the time to recoil before the main cause of your stress showed up in front of you, frowning after he snatched the cigarette stick out of your lips. He was quick to throw it to the ground, stomp on it like he would do with your heart, and give you a questioning look that made you scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. This could be a dream for heaven’s sake. Or a hallucination. There was no way Satoru Gojou would be standing right in front of you just as you were thinking about him.

“Since when have you been doing this?” he questioned again, holding your wrist this time to make you realize that his presence or this interaction wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It would have been better that way, but the reality was, Satoru was there and he wasn’t the least bit pleased. “I know you’re mad at me and this isn’t the right time for me to chew you out like this, but…” he paused, taking your cigarette pack. “I can’t believe you’re fucking smoking right now, Y/N. Did you get this habit from Toji?”

Okay. Gojou could be way out-of-line sometimes, but this was the apex of it. 

“Don’t bring Toji into this,” you snapped back, shooting him a glare that could easily kill. “What are you doing here?”

You could see how deep his inhale was just by the loudness of his sigh after it. His face showed a combination of yearning, regret, frustration, and pity as if he was deciding which emotion should dominate him more. But among the multitude of emotions that were drowning him right now like a tidal wave, he looked all the more exhausted. Whether it was dealing with you, trying to make amends with you, or simply being around you—you could tell that he wanted to drop his constant need to care for you because it was beginning to tire him out. 

He didn’t really answer your question, and instead, asked one of his own. “Are you smoking because of stress?” he asked, trying to mask the sympathy in his eyes. “It’s bad for you. Set a good example for Sachiro.” 

You’re bad for me, you wanted to say. Why did it even matter to him, anyway? You were nothing more than just a mother to his child. Anything outside that role was completely not his business anymore. The fact that he was even within the vicinity of your office was ridiculous, because you were already having a bad day and his presence was adding further into it. “Don’t you dare talk about setting a good example to my son like you’re so righteous yourself.” 

“Y/N, come on.” He reached for your hand once more as if trying to show how much he cared or how worried he was with what you were doing to yourself because of him. “I don’t want you to—”

“Keep your fucking distance, Gojou. You’re not in the place to give a damn about me anymore,” you raged, withdrawing your wrist and breathing heavily as you tried to keep yourself from further exploding. You would have. You were so close to cursing him off, but you saw the flash of pure shock in his eyes, and that was how you realized what you just did. All these violent reactions, these unusual outbursts—these were not you. This was not the meek, soft-spoken ex-wife that he was once married to. 

“Toru?” 

Unfortunately, Gojou no longer had enough attention span to listen when he looked away, only to turn to his new woman with a genuinely worried expression painted on his face as soon as he saw her coming out of the building with a hand on her cheek. You realized that he was actually here to pick her up and was doing everything that a caring boyfriend would; checking every inch of her face to see how bad she was hurt and asking her what happened and whether she was okay. You didn’t know how to react the moment he turned back to you with his tired, yet passively accusatory eyes. “Did something happen?” 

You knew that his question actually translated to: ‘Did you slap her?’ With your thorough knowledge about his acquired trauma from physical violence, you felt the sudden need to clear your name, but you didn’t know if you should be grateful that it was already your best friend who did the part in doing such. “Nothing happened. It was an accident.” Her tone was almost begging before she started tugging his arm. “Let’s just go, please.” 

Satoru didn’t want to let it go, but decided that it was best to just leave it be as he glanced at you with a slightly detached gaze. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he reminded, referring to the dreaded New York trip together with Sachiro. 

A conflicted look from him and an apologetic gaze from her. That was all that you received before they got inside the car and left you alone and miserable in that parking lot. You watched his car fade into view with her on the passenger seat and him probably holding her hand as he drove through the street. Just when you thought you could actually stomach the sight of him and her together, it would be a big fat lie to say that it didn’t sting. It stung worse than the times he ran after Sera than to stay behind with you. Worse than when he used to treat you like a mistress rather than a wife. 

You must be going crazy, indeed. Who in their right mind would cry over her ex-husband in the middle of the parking lot? Why would you even shed tears when you were the one who wanted him to find someone else and move on? This was becoming a never-ending loop because you were letting yourself be affected by it. It shouldn’t be that way. Never. 

“Toji.” You were doing your hardest to conceal the weakness in your voice as you pressed your phone into your right ear. “I-I need you… right now. Please.” 

“Hey, I was just about to pick-up Sachi from daycare. Is everything okay?” 

Wiping your eyes, you looked at the dull skies wondering if the universe was trying to reflect all these emotions running inside of you. “Yeah… Can you come soon?” 

He didn’t really hesitate to answer, quickly understanding that he had to drop everything else right now and be with you. “Alright, I’ll be there.” 

Satoru was conflicted, but he didn’t know what exactly made him feel that way. Was it because he saw you smoking in the parking lot? Or was it because he could tell that you gave Akemi a tongue-lashing after catching her half-naked at the penthouse a few days ago? Either way, both options were not very you. And he couldn’t understand why you were slowly starting to look less and less like the person he knew, which was confusing on his part because you had been adamant on telling him to forget about you. You were rigid on your decision to not let him enter your life as your husband for the second time around. He told you he still loved you, but you said you loved another. He told you he wanted to work things out and make your family complete again, but you said you were already doing that with someone else. Gojou knew his hands weren’t clean and the reason you may be acting that way was because out of all the women he could have been with, it had to be Akemi Hirai. Your best friend. Your confidante. Your business partner. She was a territory he shouldn’t have crossed, yet he did. 

But, at the same time, she was the only person who had been there for him during his lowest. She was the company he needed when his heart was the loneliest. He couldn’t even remember the amount of times she came to his aid when he was crying over his memories of you, memories that he could no longer hold onto. Akemi brought peace to his heart, and if there was anyone else he could be with, it would be her. 

It was becoming more and more clear to him how he felt about her. 

Although, voicing that out loud was a different story. Keeping it in his thoughts was for the best because he didn’t want to lead Akemi on. She didn’t deserve that nor did she deserve to feel like a substitute for someone else. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about being with her before he could fully confess his real feelings for her. It could still develop through time, perhaps far better and more passionate than what he was sharing with her right now, but until then, settling for what they had at this moment in time was for the better. What was important was that both parties were clear about diving into this relationship. 

He wasn’t ready for commitment and she understood that. She was willing to wait for him. She was helping him move on in the least painful way. Where else could he meet such a person like her? 

She was gentle, motherly, sensitive, and intuitive. She was classy and sophisticated. She knew how to dress nicely. Her nails were always clean and pretty. Her smile was very charming. Her laugh, endearing. She was the perfect woman anyone could have. 

“Why’d you suddenly want to go to the mall?” she asked, intertwining their hands together as she looked up at him with her beautiful doe eyes. Her question made him cut out of his trance, remembering that they were strolling around the galleria. 

He touched the small wound on her cheek as if stroking it could make it heal faster. “Nothing,” he said. “Just a last minute idea.”

Truthfully, Gojou wasn’t sure why he had brought her there. All he knew was that he had a lot going on in his mind while he was driving through the city and the next thing he knew, he was already pulling up at the galleria out of his natural instinct. But since they were already there, he might as well buy her a little something. Anything. And then his eyes caught sight of Chanel as if the high-end boutique was pulling his feet with such gravity that it led him to go inside the store while hand-in-hand with the woman next to him. 

“Mr. Gojou, how are you?” 

Right. The staff knew him so well, especially for the amount of times he had been there with his ex-wife when you two were still married. 

“Are you looking for anything specific?” One of the familiar ladies that used to assist you approached him with a lingering stare towards Akemi. “Perhaps for your…?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, can you… uh,” he turned towards the rack of tweed sets, “Do you have any new collections?” 

“Yes, absolutely,” said another lady, “Right this way, sir.” 

It was easy to notice how the staff were exchanging glances at the sight of Satoru and Akemi together, but his mind was far too distracted by the nostalgia of being in that place alone to even care about his surroundings. All he did was look back at Akemi and encourage her to try out the newest collections that they had, thinking that she was oblivious about what was going through his head. “You go and pick whatever you like.” 

Although she was clearly not used to it, Akemi did eventually try on some of the outfits he specifically had chosen for her. They were Chanel’s signature tweed sets that he always found to be very elegant, and he definitely wasn’t wrong that they would suit her when she came out of the dressing room to show him how the clothes wrapped her small frame perfectly. 

He could see your smile through her face, your excitement when you tried the outfits on, and the shine in your eyes when you looked at yourself in the mirror. Except, Gojou had to remind himself that you weren’t her. That his mind was just messing with him. 

No, this was wrong. Why was he thinking about you while he was with her? 

He had to have some sort of distraction. Something so tangible that all of his senses would go numb. 

The one way he was able to overcome that dilemma was by sharing yet another steamy exchange with Akemi later that night. He couldn’t remember who initiated first, but it must have been the equal desire that they had for each other when they dove straight into a heated makeout session the moment they stepped inside his bedroom. One thing led to another. First he was kissing her lips, then her collarbones, then her inner thighs—devouring her completely with his lust-driven actions, doing the most by pleasuring her body using his own. 

She was a giver just as she was a receiver. Not that he didn’t expect her to be so experienced when it came to sex, but she definitely knew what she was doing without any guidance from him. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Perhaps he had just forgotten how it felt to have sex with someone who didn’t rely on him to initiate the next steps they should do. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone stared at his eyes while putting his hardened member inside her mouth the way she did. She knew her power over him while at his most vulnerable state, ruining his masculine ego and destroying it with her own feminine pride. 

And in the midst of their intimate session, Gojou was zoning out while he was sliding a condom across his shaft, ready to enter her from the back. His mind was giving him a flash of memory, not a distant but recent one from two days ago.

“I still can’t believe you did that, Mom. You’re being ridiculous.” 

His mother wasn’t exactly showing the slightest hint of regret on her face despite knowing full well that sending the custody claim almost made you lose your mind. She was keeping a straight face as she sat on the barstool next to him, taking a sip of wine from her glass while he, on his own, was downing a glass of scotch. “She had it coming.”

Satoru sighed his frustration away. “Don’t do that again or today’s the last time you’ll ever see me.” 

“What are you talking about?” His mother frowned. “Who was there for you when you were trying to end your own life because of the lies she told you, huh? You’re feeling bad for her now, but did she feel bad for you back then? You missed three years of your son’s life because she was being too spiteful towards you.” 

He had never met someone more stubborn than his own mother, but maybe this was a clear sign for Satoru to realize where he must have acquired that one similar trait of his. After all, people always made it seem that he was more like his dad even though he despised being compared to his father. To say that his mother was a complete angel was a lie. But neither was he. “Whatever, just don’t… Just leave Y/N alone. She’s still the mother of my child and I don’t want us to keep fighting. At least, for Sachi’s sake.” 

His mother finished her glass of wine before turning the stool towards his direction. There was a minute of silence that passed between them before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you to get back with her, darling. You two are toxic together.” 

Funny, because he could say the same thing for her and his father. “Well, it’s not gonna happen now. Y/N’s gonna hate me forever.” 

“What, ‘cause she rejected you again?” 

“No,” he countered, shaking his head and chugging all the remaining liquor on his glass. “She knows about the thing I have with Akemi now.” 

Her mouth fell open, gasping as she did so. “Y-You… and Akemi? Are you together?” 

Satoru expected this reaction from her, but didn’t think she would actually be more fixated on his new relationship than the effect it would bring on her ex-daughter-in-law. “It’s not something to be proud of, Mom.” 

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she still stressed that fact, “It’s nice to hear that you’re finally moving on, Satoru. Y/N is not good for you, but I know Akemi will be. I like her and I know she’ll make you a lot happier than Y/N ever did.” 

“You’re still awake?” Gojou let out a yawn as he felt the heaviness of his eyelids telling him that it was time to sleep. He tried checking the time on his phone, but realized that he still had the photo of you and Sachiro as his lockscreen. He wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon, but considering that Akemi saw it, he was expecting that she would have something to say, yet nothing came out of her mouth. She simply stayed silent while laying on his chest, letting him touch the slope of her naked back as she slightly raised her head to meet his eyes. He had already closed his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. “What, did I not tire you enough?” 

“Shut up.” She hid her reddened cheeks and smiled on the crook of his neck. Her hand was placed on his chest, fingers tracing his collarbones. “No, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna manage New York and all.” 

Satoru’s breathing was still for a few seconds, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling as he held her on your marital bed. “You’re scared that the infamous cheater is gonna cheat on you or something?” he joked, a distasteful one, but still meant to ease whatever was burdening her mind. “Not gonna happen even if we’re in an open relationship.” 

“That’s not it,” Akemi quickly replied, denying his claims, “I’m more like hoping that you’ll be patient with her. She gets angry a lot these days and we know we’re the main cause of it, so please. Please don’t try to argue with her, okay? If she says hurtful things, learn to understand her.” 

He wrapped his arms tighter around her smaller frame. Gojou was certain that he was about to doze off soon now that he had closed his eyes and let the exhaustion pull him into a good night’s sleep. “I won’t,” he spoke his words slowly, drifting off to dreamland, “I won’t make her angry.” 

“Okay.” He felt her lips kissing his jaw just before the both of them gradually matched the calmness of each other’s chest. One heart, one soul, two bodies.  “Good night, ‘Toru.” 

…

…

…

In the middle of his sleep, he mumbled, “Good night, Y/N.”

On the other side of the city, you woke up in the middle of your slumber, facing the handsome face of your fiancé, Toji Zen’in, who had already drifted off to dreamland while holding you in his muscular arms. No wonder people were jealous of you for having such a refined man like him in your bed every night you go to sleep. The thing was, you had no reason to feel discontented with your life since you already had everything. You were wealthier than the average person, you ran a business that you were passionate about, you had an adorable son who meant the world to you, and you had Toji. There was nothing else you could ask for. And if by remembering Sera’s words back then, you would be selfish to ask for anything more because others didn’t even have half the fortune you had. 

So, in that sense, you should be happy. 

You had to be happy. 

You were happy, right? 

“Go to sleep,” whispered a half-awake Toji, stirring from his sleep as he held your waist tighter like you were his comfort pillow. “You alright?” 

Sighing inwardly, you traced the scar on his lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His lazy, boyish smile came into view. “I know that,” he joked, closing his eyes as if succumbing into a few more minutes of sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now ‘cause I can go all night. Doggy. Missionary. Cowboy. Reverse cowboy.” 

Were you? Maybe a little. And maybe you had to have a distraction from your ‘source of happiness’. 

“That’s very naughty of you, Mr. Zen’in,” you replied, cheeks heating up from his vulgar words. Your hand was finding its way to his toned chest, while his were traveling to the curves of your waist and hips. You could feel him angling his body to make sure he had access to slide your underwear just a little above your knee, gliding his hand along your thigh before letting his fingers touch your sensitive bud. “T-Toji—”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hm? I thought you wanted this?” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Y-Yeah, I…” There was no use holding back from moaning because his fingers knew how to move perfectly well, playing with your clit in circular motions before sliding two of them into your entrance. “...Fuck.”

“Feel good?” His hot breath tickled your neck, moving his mouth from your collarbones down to the valley between your breasts. “Wish you knew how delicious you are.” 

Another moan, much louder this time around, escaped your lips when he attached his mouth onto your breast, sucking the round mass with his tongue doing God’s work. You were so high into sexual desire that your back arched on its own, dominated by the pleasing sensation all over your body. You could barely even respond to him when he started asking why your mood had been so down when he picked you up after work or why you still wouldn’t tell him whatever happened back there. 

“It’s nothing,” you replied, disregarding the painful encounter you’ve had with your ex-husband and your best friend. “...Just work stuff.” 

As you closed your eyes, you could feel Satoru’s fingers entering deep inside of you, deep enough to have reached your g-spot and have you moaning wildly. It felt unreal. It felt goddamn out of this world. But since Satoru was familiar with every inch of your body, his touch alone could easily send you to seventh heaven. He was heavenly. He was saintly. That mesmerizing gaze of his paired with his sky blue eyes and messy white hair. His beautiful, beautiful face, watching you beg for him to do more. More. More…

“Satoru…”

The intense feeling suddenly stopped, awakening you back to your senses as you opened your eyes and saw the dark, animalistic gaze of Toji Zen’in. “What’d you say?” he asked in a deep voice. 

Out of panic, you slightly pulled away and shook your head. “N-Nothing. What did I say?”

“I thought I heard you say his…” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out of you and instead, placing a tight grip on your hip. “Did you?” 

“No, no. Not at all.” Your voice came in a hushed tone, looking at his eyes intently. “Why would I do that?” 

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling back into the bed with one arm under his head. “Don’t play games with me, Y/N.”

Desperation led you to climb on top of him, sitting on his crotch before encasing your lips with his soft ones. “I’m not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “I never did. I promise.” 

Yet, despite your attempts at inviting him for an open-mouthed kiss, he had already lost the interest to engage in sexual activities with you. He didn’t say anything nor tried to argue about the shit that you said, but he did stay silent for a couple of minutes, simply holding you on top of him without another word to utter. It scared you to think what was going through Toji’s mind, but this was also all your fault. Why, in the first place, did you even let your mind imagine that white-haired toxic ex-husband of yours when you had Toji Zen’in in front you? 

Perhaps in this relationship, you were the toxic one. 

You were the poison that could kill the life out of the man who only wanted to love and heal you. 

“Toji, I’m sorry…” 

He held his breath. “Should I be concerned that you’re going on a trip with him?” 

“No, it’s…” Pulling away, you gave him a look of combined sincerity and denial. “We’re just gonna fix Sachiro’s papers, you know that. We won’t even be staying in the same room.” 

Fixing Sachiro’s papers. Dealing with his dual citizenship. Changing his last name to Gojou. Solidifying your son’s identity as the son of Satoru Gojou. That’s all there is to it. All the technical matters. 

“Is he staying at a hotel or are you letting him stay at your apartment in Manhattan?” he asked, although there was no hint of suspicion in his voice. Or at least, he must be good at hiding it. 

You chose to be honest. “I have to let him stay at my apartment,” was your answer, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Only because Sachi wants his dad around all the time. We’re just trying our best to co-parent.” 

Toji’s dry humor took over. “You sure you’re not gonna let him fuck you senseless?” His tone was laced with resentment. “And then you’ll come home to me crying about how he got you pregnant for the second time. You’d better kiss our marriage goodbye if that happens.” 

“What kind of person do you think I am?” you retorted, annoyed by his word of choice as if you were a cheating scumbag. “If he’s gonna get someone pregnant, that won’t be me.” 

His eyes sparked with curiosity. “What do you mean?” 

Deciding between telling and not telling, you figured that the latter would only cause more drama to bounce back at you like a boomerang. “He’s with Akemi.” 

It looked like Toji didn’t hear it right. “Akemi? How’d that happen?” 

“I don’t know what kinda relationship they have, okay?” you snapped, no longer wanting to keep up with this topic further. “I just caught them. They said they’re seeing each other, but it’s complicated or whatever—I don’t really give a damn. But he’s with her is all I know.” 

Toji went silent for a few minutes, unable to determine whether he should find the situation pitiful or humorous. One thing for sure though, was that he found it unbelievable. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, smiling in disbelief, “So this is what’s ruining your mood these days, huh?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. “It’s not.” 

“Your ex-husband slept with your best friend. Yeah, I’d be mad, too.” His comment wasn’t really meant to irk you, but he successfully did so. Minus the intention. “Getting mad is understandable, getting jealous is questionable. Which one are you?” 

Fuck it. “I said I’m not jealous. Will you stop now?” You sunk yourself under the covers, turning your back on Toji. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

Now that he knew and you saw his reaction, you wondered what it would be like if Gen and Ian knew. Or if your dad knew. What would they think of Satoru? What would they think of Akemi? No, nevermind that. What would they think of you? Another fool in a deck of cards? Another game that was played with? 

You didn’t want to know. 

Ideally, you and Satoru really shouldn’t have gone to this New York trip together as if your family was still intact, because as much as you wished that that was true, you were far from that. You were only playing house for the sake of your son, but that also meant putting you in a painfully awkward situation together as ex-spouses. He had a girlfriend back home and you had a loving and loyal fiancé who proved the whole word that he was loyal to you. And although your respective partners were supporting the whole co-parenting situation, you knew by yourselves that this was nowhere to near to being comfortable for them, too. 

“Everything okay?” You heard the familiar voice of your past, only to see his dull, blue eyes taking a peek at you. 

“Yeah,” you replied, almost inaudibly. You just boarded the plane while Satoru was talking to the pilot, and found your spot on one of the beds in his private jet. It took a few minutes for him to get to where you were now. “Why?” 

He shrugged, eyeing a sleepy Sachiro next to you. “Just wanna make sure you and Sachi are comfortable.” 

You didn’t know what else to say, so you just looked back at your peaceful son who was hugging his elmo plush like the cute angel he was. Even though he was growing so fast, you could still remember how he was just as small as a puppy in your arms when he was first born. The memory of it caused you to press your lips on his forehead, caressing his soft, white hair. At some point while observing the scene, your son’s father thought it would be a good idea to slide the blanket further up your shoulders, acting as though he was only doing it to keep Sachiro warm. And later, he sat on the reclined airplane seat, drinking the coffee that was served to him by the stewardess. 

It was crazy. 

Crazy that Toji could be lying next to you and you would feel nothing. But Gojou was meters away from you and your mind was on a never-ending race. 

Just before noon, the airplane landed safely at JFK airport and Satoru’s driver took you straight to Central Park Towers, treated like a V.I.P. by security just because your ex-husband was Japan’s third richest person and second most influential businessman. At times like these, you would almost forget the power Satoru held even before he was the chairman. You two were almost royalty. Now that he was leading the Gojou Group, his reputation only grew more despite the scandal of your broken marriage. He knew not to share his relationship publicly anymore nor did he expose Sachiro to any of his social media. It was a mutual decision for you to keep your son away from the spotlight knowing the scrutiny and the lack of privacy that would enter your lives once again—all the unnecessary noise, the unwanted comments, the unruly attention. Besides, for safety reasons, Sachiro had to be hidden from the public since he would become the sole heir to his father’s conglomerate, inheriting his parents combined assets that could one day make him the richest and most sought after bachelor in Japan. 

“Mamaaa!” A lively Sachi came running to you as soon as he entered the lobby of the apartment suites, his father following him behind. 

“Careful, baby!” you said, standing at the lobby while talking to your housekeeper, “You might trip.” 

Satoru decided to carry his son after noticing your worried expression and immediately walked towards you. He was all smiles as he looked at Sachiro’s cheerful blue eyes. “He seems a little excited, isn’t he?” 

“He lived here for almost three years,” you answered, signaling a quick ‘thank you’ to your housekeeper before guiding your boys to the elevator. “He must’ve missed the place. Did you, Sachi?”

“Yes, mama~”

It was a little bittersweet for your ex-husband, though. Especially the moment he stepped inside the apartment, looking at every corner and realizing that it was the same place you had lived in back when he was suffering from emotional distress on the other side of the world. This apartment was where his own child grew up in and he had no idea he had even existen then. Not only did that make you a terrible ex-wife, but it also made you a heartless mother. You had separated them and now you were taking him to the place where you had his son hidden from him. 

That wasn’t your intention. That was never your intention. 

“I’m glad you chose a nice place,” he complimented, acting as casual as possible. “Does your father own this place or?”

“Gen loaned it to me,” you said, holding Sachiro’s hand while letting Satoru follow you closely. You stopped at one of the guest rooms and urged the tall man to feel at home. “You can stay here for the meantime.” 

“I don’t wanna make things uncomfortable for Akemi.” He looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I can just stay at a hotel—” 

“Dada!” His mini-me tugged at his hand along with yours. You already knew that those puppy eyes would look back at the both of you. “Sachi wants Dada to stay.”

Frankly, you weren’t upset a while ago, but since he had to bring up Akemi and make it seem like her feelings were his priority, you lost all the will to be kind. Was their relationship that deep for him to act like such a loyal, righteous partner? Where was that same loyalty when he married you? “Do whatever.” 

Noticing the tension between his parents, Sachiro’s eyes started to well up with tears and that was all it took for you two to completely focus your attention back to your 3-year old. 

“Sachi…” Satoru tried to reach for his son, but you (spitefully) beat him to it. 

“It’s okay, my baby. Don’t cry,” you comforted your son, picking him up and carrying him in your arms, “Daddy will still visit you every day even if he's staying at a hotel.” 

Satoru, as guilty as ever, shook his head and wiped his son’s eyes. “No. I’ll stay here for Sachi, okay? Don’t cry anymore.” 

It felt like hours sitting on that enormous sofa, staring at the television screen even though your mind was miles away. You had already texted Toji good night and reassured him that everything was fine, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about what he was doing back home. Sachiro had fallen asleep almost half an hour ago, and how you wished you could also enjoy your slumber while snuggling under those heated blankets, but how could you? How could you be comfortable in the presence of an ex-husband who was coming out of his room, freshly showered in his low-waisted sweatpants and tight-fitting black shirt? Not to mention how he was obviously flexing his arms while drying his mop of messy, white hair with a towel. Ridiculous. A little seductive, but definitely ridiculous. 

“Still up?” His sky blue eyes met yours as soon as he looked up. 

You adjusted your position on the sofa and leaned on the corner, pulling a small cushion to place above your thighs. “Can’t sleep.” 

And the night went on just like that. You, sitting on the couch. Him, sitting on the other end as if going near you might suffocate him. It didn’t help that the silence was beginning to be too uncomfortable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking of. Perhaps Akemi? Perhaps you? You doubted the latter. 

“I think…” You cleared your throat to escape from the awkward tension. “I think I’m gonna go for a night swim. You can go to sleep next to Sachi tonight, just make sure not to wake him up.” 

Satoru’s curious gaze trailed on you as you got up and tightened your robe. “It’s a little too late at night to go for a swim, no?” 

You couldn’t even face him as you responded. “I need to clear my mind off some things.” And by things, you meant him and this whole mess of a situation that you had put yourselves together. Two divorcees staying in the same living space wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to begin with.

“Want me to join you?” asked Satoru, and he himself could not believe he asked that question. He may have asked it out of his innate care for you, probably worried for no damn reason. What he didn’t realize was how wrong his suggestion was, especially that you two were dating other people now. 

If only you were such a cruel person, how ironic would it be if you allowed Satoru Gojou to join you for a quick night swim? 

How ironic would it be for you to feel each other’s warmth under the crystal pool, getting carried away by the romantic lights that lit the city? 

How ironic would it be if the intense sexual tension ended with you doing things under the sheets, completely disregarding the fact that the both of you had respective partners who were overthinking this exact NYC trip?

How ironic would it be if, for once in your life, you became the cheater? 

Thankfully, you didn’t have the mindset of a cheating person. 

However, it was Satoru who took back his initial offer. “Never mind. Forget I even asked that,” he muttered, sounding annoyed more so to himself rather than at you. 

You offered a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.” 

And as you were heading to the poolside, you could sense Gojou’s presence behind even though he just very clearly rejected the idea of going on a swim with you. He was still the same confusing man that you married before. Only now, he was ten times worse. “Wait, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around, annoyed at his push-and-pull behavior. At this point, you didn’t really care what he was thinking of anymore. All you did was to take off your robe, leaving yourself with only your underwear on before you slowly got down on the pool. 

Gojou, on the other hand, was ridding himself of his shirt and sweatpants to join you in the pool with just his boxers on. What even was this situation? You two had that same question in your head despite swimming at the edge of the pool to stare at the cityscape. “I only asked to join you because I wanted to talk. That’s all.” 

You wanted to laugh at how he was clearing his intentions to you. 

“Why do you sound defensive around me?” He couldn’t see it, but you were rolling your eyes as you leaned against the pool coping. “I never knew Akemi would be the jealous type.” 

Satoru looked surprised by your claim, seeming as though he didn’t recognize the kind of person you were anymore. You were never this unreasonably sarcastic nor acidic with your words during your marriage even at the height of his affair with Sera, yet you had just become the worst version of yourself. “She isn’t,” he muttered, finding his spot next to you, “But I don’t wanna give her a reason to be.” 

You huffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You make it sound like I’m gonna make a move on you or something.” 

“I never said that.” 

“You were thinking about it.” 

“Says who?” 

What is it about Satoru Gojou that makes him so irritating? Was it the way he talks? The way he thinks he’s always right? The way he acts like he’s such a clean person? 

“Please,” you retorted, bitterly. “Toji isn’t comfortable having you around me, either. Just so you know.” 

“Can we just—” There. His last string of patience finally snapped and his true colors came to show when he grabbed your wrist and made you face him. The spiteful Satoru. He was back, even just for a second. “Y/N, I’m not trying to argue with you here. I’m trying to talk to you like a civilized person. You’re the mother of my child and I respect you. I’d still care for you and will always protect you, but I want you to at least act like a fucking person around me. You’re a grown woman.” 

Wasn’t it bad that he, of all people, was basically telling you to grow up? Memories of your marriage and all the back-and-forth arguments that you had with him flashed before your eyes. He should be the last one to say such a thing. “You’re the one who’s been crossing the fucking line with me since day one, Gojou. Don’t tell me to—”

“And do you wish I had just killed myself for you to forgive me?!” The ridges of his neck became prominent, making his anger much visible now. He was staring down at you intensely, backing you against the edge of the pool, trapping you in between his arms. “I’d have probably done that. But you…You did unforgivable things to me and look how easy it was for me to forgive you.” 

You looked away, not trying to have this conversation again. Not trying to have your guilt eat your heart out. Maybe your behavior really had become too much and it was about time you take a step back and realize how ridiculous you had been acting because no way was this man trying to make a better point than you. 

“I slept with Akemi, I know. She’s your best friend, I fucking know. But I never did that to get back at you,” his voice bore so much authority in them. “I begged on my knees just to be with you again. Swallowed my pride just for you to be my wife again!” His breathing became ragged. “But you chose to move on. You said you love Toji. You said you’d be happier without me, so why don’t I deserve to be happy without you?” 

The inability to speak wasn’t because you were at a loss of words. The problem was choosing the right ones. Words that wouldn’t put you in a disadvantageous position. Words that wouldn’t make you look like an unreasonable person. 

“You wished me well when you first found out about Akemi and I. You said you don’t care who I choose to date even if that choice is her,” he said, much calmer this time. He was placing his forehead against yours, body pressed against each other. “If that was true, then why are you still so angry with me?” 

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were the same kind of blue that reflected off of the surface of the pool. Anyone could easily get lost in it, but you knew where to place yourself in order not to. “I’m… not angry…” 

“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said with a serious gaze, lifting your chin with his hand. 

But you swatted it away, averting your eyes. “Don’t call me baby. You’re being ridiculous.” 

With a loud sigh, Gojou gave up and simply placed his forehead on your shoulder, letting you feel the weight of his head and the warmth of his breath. “If you were still my wife, I’d have kissed you right now,” he declared, breathing heavily as if stopping with all of his will to do what he just said. “I’d touch every inch of you, tell you how much I love you, carry you back into that room, and make more beautiful babies with you…” 

“Satoru,” you warned just as he pulled away, smiling despite the sorrow in his eyes. 

“…But I won’t do that. I’m not gonna do that,” he claimed and sounded like he was convincing himself rather than clearing it up. “Akemi doesn’t deserve a partner who can’t move on from his ex-wife, so I’m doing my best to forget about you.” 

Your breathing took a halt. You weren’t sure where those tiny pricks in your heart came from. Toji needed the same. He deserved a wife who wasn’t pining for her ex-husband. Satoru was just being true. 

“Then, forget about me,” you gave a barely audible reply. 

Gojou pulled away and kept his distance now, showing that he was indeed trying to stick to his words. “I will.” 

Why did it hurt when it shouldn’t have? 

“Good.” 

He looked at you with eyes that carried a million emotions. But what was most visible was him seeing the light, probably realizing that he truly was doing the right thing and that he was proud of himself for being able to resist you. Because then, that only meant he was only a few steps away from the path of moving on. That if he could let you go, then he could live a better life. 

It only made sense why he pulled that little stunt back there—being close enough to you was probably his way of differentiating how his body reacted to you versus how it reacted to Akemi. And now that he was able to determine whatever difference that might be, it would be easier for him to know what exactly to avoid. 

After all, you two would be spending the rest of your lives as a present mom and dad to Sachiro. Co-parenting was your only connection and the only way to make that work without falling for each other was to rid yourselves of any kind of attraction towards one another. 

Good for him. 

“Let’s be good parents, Y/N.” Satoru looked at you from across the pool. “Let’s set a good example for Sachi and show that divorced parents can still be good parents. Let’s not be toxic to each other, especially not in front of him.” His words were coming from his personal experience and as you knew the whole history behind the mess within his family, you were truthfully considerate of his words. His traumatic experiences were what shaped him to become the problematic man you once married, and he was doing his best not to let his own son be the same. “I’ll provide Sachiro with everything he needs and I’ll always be present in his life, so please let me have as much time with him as possible. I’m making up for the three years I lost with him.” 

You nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that. 

As the established relationship you had with Gojou became more professional and strictly transactional, the distance between you two also grew more and more. There was no longer any space for love and intimacy. There was only familiarity and acquaintanceship. 

“Go to sleep soon,” he said without sending another glance your way, climbing out of the pool and reaching for his clothes, “We have a long day tomorrow.” 

[ohmyitsfaith]

The sunshine and the grump / Part 4

Pairing: Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: With your curiousity for Jennifer satisfied, but your anger about your husband’s dismissal still burning high, you decide to stay just a little bit more with the Umbrellas.

Warnings: fighting, Jayme using her power on the reader continuously

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: Honestly, I realized what my problem was when writing the last two parts of this. I was leaning too heavily on the show and not enough on my own ideas. So here's a part that I wrote on the train where I had no access to the actual show other than my memories.

Five’s reaction wasn’t comforting, but he was ambushed by Klaus the next moment and you went back to eating your breakfast. What could you do?

Technically what you came for, you already got. You now knew about Jennifer, at least you knew what mattered. Though you didn’t really know what to do with the information, your curiosity was satisfied. But thinking about going back… back to the family you thought loved you…

Well, they did love you. You knew that. Ben loved you as much as he was an asshole to you currently. And Jayme and Fei. Sloane especially. Alphonso loved you too and Chris… well he tolerated you. Only Marcus was a bit of a tough nut to crack. You didn’t give up yet on him, but… still. You didn’t want to go back.

Here, at least Klaus liked you. He talked to you, shared the information you needed with you. You wanted to get to know the Umbrellas, if you were honest. They seemed like a… very interesting bunch.

You looked at the Umbrellas that were around you. Viktor was trying to stop everyone from leaving. Klaus and Five were going on a road trip, if you heard it right. Diego and his alleged son were going to the store. Luther was nowhere to be found. And Viktor, giving up on the others, grabbed some breakfast on a tray and walked off.

You had two chances at getting to know the Umbrellas: either wait for Viktor to come back or go with Diego and his son. You quickly weighed your options, then ran after Diego.

“Diego, wait for me!”

“I still don’t like that you’re here” Diego grumbled as you walked down the street. “You’re the enemy.”

“Technically, I’m not” you pointed out. “I’m just a mere human without any powers. I’m harmless.”

“Not if you report back to your little birds” Diego rolled his eyes.

“They don’t listen to me” you sighed. “I’m not part of the team, the academy. I’m just Ben’s… wife.”

“That’s… sad.”

“It really is.”

“Okay, I’ll bite” Diego looked at you. “Why did you come to us? It can’t be just your curiosity about Jennifer.”

You looked at him for a few seconds. “No, you’re right” you sighed and looked at your hand, where your wedding band sat. “We… Me and Ben… had a fight. If I can even call it a fight.”

“I can’t read in your head, woman” Diego urged you to explain.

“Well… I think it started with me searching for information about Jennifer in his room” you started and noticed Diego’s facial expression. “I know, I shouldn’t have. But he was busy and I wanted answers” you put your hands up. “I understand why he was mad. But then he told me that I was too naive and they don’t need my help.”

“Well… that’s an asshole move, but maybe there was some truth in that. You’re… what do you even do?”

“I’m an interior designer” you supplied.

“Well then yeah, you probably wouldn’t have been able to help” Diego nodded, thinking.

“Asshole!” you hit him on the arm.

“Look, all I’m saying is that he had a reason to be mad at you. And with your job, you’re nowhere near the place where you could help anyone strategically plan” he explained.

“Why am I even here” you grumbled.

“I wonder that myself.”

You glared at him, then just entered the shop. You wondered whether it was even worth coming along with him. If staying at the hotel would’ve been better. You also wondered what Ben was doing. He was no doubt busy with his plan against the Umbrellas.

Which was stupid, in all honesty. Just because they caused some trouble at the mansion, why should they die? The Umbrellas didn’t want them dead. Well… other than Diego. Diego was all for beating them to a pulp. But the rest just wanted their home back. Which was honestly understandable. If what they said was true and they did come from a different timeline, then the fact that they lost everything and were left without even a home to go back to was… jarring, fear-inducing. Kind of what a tree would feel if it was uprooted and placed elsewhere. You could almost share the feeling. Almost.

Because you still had Ben to go back to. This was just a stupid fight, you’d be over it sooner or later. You just had to… talk to him. Alone, preferably.

And that… pretty much settled it. You’d go back and… see how things go.

You suddenly saw Diego duck behind a shelf, which made you suspicious. Especially when you saw him peek out from behind it just a moment later. He didn’t seem the type to play hide-and-seek in a convenience store, so, furrowing your brows, you went over to him.

“Diego, what-” you started, but were interrupted by Diego pulling you down beside him.

“Shush” he said lowly, then peeked out again. “They’re here…”

“Who-” you looked where he was looking and noticed Jayme and Alphonso. “Oh…”

Diego pulled you down again, glaring at you. “Try not to get me caught.”

“Oh god” you rolled your eyes, but Diego was already moving away from the spot where you were crouched. “Don’t try it, Diego!”

But no matter what you said, Diego was already standing up, right in sight of Alphonso. You held your head in your hands, unsure what you should do. Diego wouldn’t back down and would get hurt. Then again, it wasn’t like you didn’t try to stop him. It was his own fault if he got hurt. But still, you didn’t want him to get hurt. In all honesty you just wanted peace. No more fighting, no more arguing. You knew things could be fixed if everyone just sat down and talked.

You heard Diego get slammed back into a shelf and you made a decision. You stood up and ran for Alphonso. You weren’t going to stand by and just watch as the two of them fought it out in the convenience store. So you were going to stop them, whatever it took.

And it seemed the first thing it demanded of you was to take a punch in the face. Okay, it wasn’t that easy. Technically you should’ve expected the punch and ducked out of the way of it. You knew Alphonso was on high-alert and if he saw someone at full speed rushing up to him, of course he was going to act in defense and punch without checking who it was.

“Ow!” you yelped as you were thrown off your balance.

“Y/n?” Alphonso turned at your voice. “What are you-” but in the next moment he was pushed by Diego, who ran at him like a bull.

You cheek was throbbing with pain, but you forced yourself to focus on the fight. You got to your feet and saw Diego try to punch Alphonso without feeling the pain himself.

“Stop it Diego!” you yelled at him, trying to grab his arm, to pull him away.

Suddenly, a knife whizzed by you and scratched Alphonso’s leg. You heard the little boy scream behind you and Diego instantly looked toward him, all anger leaving him for a moment. He jumped up and ran for the little boy, who was whining and writhing on the floor.

You took a breath and blinked against the pain. Then leaned down to grab Alphonso’s arm to help him up.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked. “With them nonetheless!”

“I-” you searched for the words. “I needed time away from…”

“So you colluded with the enemy?!”

“I did not collude with the enemy!” you denied, offended. “And they’re not our enemies!”

“Of course they’re our enemies!” Alphonso scoffed. “They broke into our home, kidnapped Marcus-”

“But they didn’t!” you interrupted. “Marcus isn’t-”

You couldn’t finish though, because Diego threw a… pan?! at Alphonso, hitting him square in the face. The impact sent Alphonso stumbling back and you stared at Diego in confusion. He had knives. Why a pan?!

But the next item came flying, all aimed at Alphonso, who kept trying to dodge. All that stumbling and dodging ended in him bumping into the aisle, knocking down the short shelves, falling onto them.

That finally alerted Jayme into action. She first spit in your direction, which at first you thought you managed to dodge.

“Jayme! What…” but the next moment a hallucination overtook you.

You were still standing in the convenience store, but this time Ben came in, tentacles out to shield you from the slaughter of Diego’s knives. You saw that the knives were hurting him, but his focus was on you. Just like the first time you met, you were saved by him.

One tentacle wrapped quietly around you, lifting you from the chaos and close to him.

“Ben” you breathed.

He pulled you close, the tentacle putting you right next to him, easing you to your feet. His arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady. All noise washed away. It was just you and him. Like all those sweet days of solitude on your honeymoon.

“I’ll take you home, baby” he said, his voice sweet like honey.

“H-home?” you stuttered. “No, I-”

“The hallucinogen is wearing off” you heard another voice suddenly and you blinked hard.

“Don’t worry” Ben said, his voice a bit distorted and looked back at you. The next time he spoke, his voice was back to normal. “You’ll be okay, baby. They won’t hurt you there.”

Your heart calmed and your lips pulled into a gentle smile.

“Okay” you sighed. “Take me home, baby.”

All the way to the academy, you were in and out of the hallucination. In your hallucination you were on a romantic stroll with Ben, once again feeling the peace of your pink-clouded romance. In reality though, you were sweating profusely, dragged by Alphonso and Jayme to the academy, just barely not drooling. You were also breathing hard with the hallucination clouding your brain.

Jayme knew it was probably mostly your subconscious fighting against the hallucinogen. Many times she asked you to train with her for control over her hallucination. As added fun, you tried to fight it, trying to break out of the hallucination before it ran out.

So she kept spitting on you, the black goo seeping into your face. Did she feel bad for you? Yes. But you were caught with the enemy. She couldn’t in good conscience let you go back. Who knows what those criminals did to you to make you stay with them. Because as soft-hearted as you were, you wouldn’t sympathize with criminals, who broke into your home and even kidnapped your brother-in-law. That would be betraying Ben and his trust placed in you.

You kept muttering Ben's name every so often and Jayme couldn't even imagine how the man would react to his wife colluding with the enemy.

When they dragged you into the mansion’s living room, barely conscious, Ben didn’t know what to think.

He had been so mad at you the night before and so focused on the coming mission, he didn’t think much about you not being in your room. He thought that once you calmed down, you would join him in the bed. And then, in the morning you would talk it out as you did all your arguments.

Even if this was bigger than any of your previous ones.

But you weren’t there in the morning, your place still the same way it was the night before. It didn’t take much for Ben to realize that you were never there. By then, he was calm, he had forgiven you for the snooping, after all he was busy and didn’t really have time to search for the answers with you. He was also slightly guilty about dismissing your help at the second mission planning meeting. He knew he was an asshole to you, even though at the time he justified it with being mad at you.

But he really wanted to talk it out with you. To solve this issue. After all, everyone was on edge, him especially. Since you were in his life, there weren’t big enemies like the Umbrellas were right now. Not only did he want to keep you safe, he also wanted to prove himself.

So it was understandable that he was feeling more stressed about this.

Now though? He didn’t know what to think.

“What happened?” he asked, confused but he could feel the rage starting to burn in him. “Why is she under your power?”

Jayme and Alphonso shared a look.

“We found her with the Umbrellas.”

[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Taglist: @snixx2088, @lxkeeeee, @kimm4710, @sagestack, @koshi-sama, @cherryinsalemverse, @lifrimen, @inkedeye2345, @popstarbarbiee

[t1red-twilight]

just like heaven

summary: inspired by every conversation i have ever had. feel free to request this duo because i kind of love them

content/warnings: gn!reader, goth/alt!reader, fluff, corny:/

word count: 0.7k

masterlist

on one of the very rare friday nights that you and spencer had free, you both were catching up on your favorite show.

“what did you think if me when you first saw me?” at spencer’s inquiry, you paused. you hadn’t really thought of this; when you looked at spencer now, you felt the exact same way you did when you saw his favorite purple tie several years ago.

-

he was tall and thin, and his tie was purple and had a paisley pattern on it. the pattern clashed with his argyle sweater vest, but his shirt was a cohesive purple that matched the tie. while your shoes made you a few inches taller, he still towered over you slightly.

when you introduced yourself, he stuttered out his name and his academic achievements.

damn, you were really in for it this time. this tall stick bug with jesus hair might very well be the death of you.

-

“hmmm,” you traced shapes onto his arms that were around your middle. “i thought that you looked like the most pretty person i had seen. i still think that, by the way. but also that you looked too young to have three doctorate degrees.”

his cheek moved to rest against the top of your head and he exhaled out a breathy laugh. you shuffled impossibly closer to him. “yeah, i’ve heard that a couple times.”

the two of you settled back into watching the show again. following a pause, you asked him that same think. “well, what did you think of me when you first saw me?”

you swore that you could hear him mulling over what he was going to say in his head. “c’mon. did you think i looked like i was going to be mean and heinous and drink your blood or something?”

“well actually, i was quite alarmed, my love. i was a little scared, to be honest.” while you respected his honesty, this was a funny anecdote to you as you had been told this several times throughout your life.

“you thought that i was scary?”

spencer chuckled at this. you were laying on the couch as he held you. he looked away from the tv as he responded to you. “i didn’t think you were scary, per se, i was just scared of you.” he stiffened at the realization that he might be offending you.

worried that he had offended you, he rambled on. “i was quite sheltered growing up, so seeing someone come to work with platform loafers on and enough jewelry to make a tsa agent scream i was a little unnerved.”

“okay that may be a fair point, but you know i tone down the vampirism for work,” you replied. the tone you had gave spencer the impression that you were not, in fact, offended; he relaxed his stiffened posture. “my loafers aren’t even the most intimidating out of my shoes.”

he laughed at this, and his arms tightened around you, and he urged you to look at him.

“of course that didn’t last long. your dark garb doesn’t at all match your sweet personality.” not knowing how to respond to this, you didn’t respond further than a hum. you moved your hand to rub circles into his belly over his old gray fbi academy shirt.

“you know, it wasn’t just the demonias that were alarming, honey.” at your questioning look, he continued. “you do happen to be the most beautiful person that i have ever seen.”

“i am?” you peeled your eyes away from the tv to look at him quizzically.

very nonchalantly, he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “of course you are, angel. i wouldn’t be telling you that if it wasn’t the truth.”

“well, i appreciate it, spence.” he looked at you as if you were being sarcastic. “i mean it, i’m flattered,” you smiled as you looked into his eyes.

he smiled back at you. “i mean it. you look like an old cathedral or something. daunting but alluring.”

“that is a huge compliment, even though the way you said it sounded incredibly pretentious.” you laughed lightly, replying without hesitating. “i think you look like a hot version of professor plum from clue.”

this got a full belly laugh from spencer. “i suppose i do wear a lot of purple.”

you both turned back to the television and continued your show.

“...wait, you think i’m pretty?”

[mokulule]

Dead on MAYn Day 1 - still untitled.

Prompts used: Dinner interrupted by a rogue/gang fight, courting rituals.

This thing keeps growing so I figured I should just post the first part. It will be continued eventually it’s kinda going places I didn’t expect. I am also using the flickering prompt, but it doesn’t appear in this first part.

Danny dug into his burger with gusto. It was not Nasty Burger, but it was greasy and cheesy and juicy and definitely hit the spot after a whole day walking about Gotham taking in the supernatural sights.

Sam was entirely less impressed with the vegetarian option and had set it down with a grimace and was now just picking at her fries. Tucker had taken it as a personal win for the Meat Team™ and was lording it over her with his eyebrows - thankfully he was too busy eating to actually say anything, which Danny was very glad of. You could only hear the same arguments so many times. At least age and maturity had assured they didn’t end their friendship over it.

“So,” Sam said, “What’s next after this?”

Danny finished chewing his mouthful, before speaking. “I’m not sure, I figured just go back to the hotel for a bit, chill until nightfall? Gotham’s court won’t be in session until then.”

“Seconded. My feet hurt,” Tucker chimed in.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend all your day sitting in front of a screen all day-”

And they were at it again… Danny tuned them out with the practice of years of being on the sideline, humming in agreement when prompted. He loved his friends dearly, but arguing was a part of their love language that he didn’t feel like participating in.

He let his eyes wander around the small diner, and found himself frowning as a group of men hurried inside.

If Danny had been less used to his ghost sense warning him of trouble, maybe he would have reacted in time - or at all. As it was he found himself frozen in shock when he saw the guns - regular human guns, not ecto-guns, ecto-guns he knew how to react to.

It was strange to realize that nobody had ever pointed a normal gun at him before and someone was pointing a gun at him right now - of course it would be in Gotham he got that experience.

“Hey you, stand up slowly and get over here. Hands where I can see them.”

Oh.

Danny’s brain suddenly caught up to the events.

A group of five armed men had entered the diner waving guns. Three kept their eyes on the door and windows as if they expected someone to follow them. One was moving behind the counter towards the back, maybe looking for the waitress who had skedaddled as soon as the armed men entered and the last one had his gun trained on Danny, who of all people in the diner he’d figured was the best option for a hostage.

Danny resisted the urge to laugh.

Slowly he did as bidden, raising his hands and standing up.

On the surface he wasn’t an unreasonable choice. He was short and lean, if he was completely honest he looked like a stiff wind could blow him over. Sam in contrast looked like trouble and Tucker had grown up annoyingly tall, and if Gotham police was like most places it was probably wiser to pick a white boy as hostage anyways. The rest of the people in the diner were two heavy set construction workers and a lady with arms broader than Danny’s thighs, like damn. 

So yeah, Danny was apparently the best choice. 

Regretfully, he left his dinner to cool on its plate as he took carefully measured steps towards the… what? Mobster? Gang person? 

A part of him was wondering how much a gunshot could hurt him. Would it hurt him? In human form probably, as long as he was tangible. Would it kill him the rest of the way? He wasn’t particularly keen to find out.

His eyes flickered to the other armed men when one of them hissed at the guy at the door. “Do you see him?”

Danny considered doing something for about three steps, but he wasn’t experienced enough with real guns and fighting humans that he thought he could risk it. He’d also prefer to fly under the radar while he was here. He was on vacation, not here to mess with anyone.

There was a familiar feeling in his throat, wanting to be let go. His head snapped towards the kitchen. What! That couldn’t be right?

The man grabbed him and put the gun to his head just as a crash sounded from the kitchen and the wisp of cold breath escaped his mouth. Everyone turned towards the noise. The man who held him tightened his hold and pushed the gun so hard against his head he had to tilt it. 

Something black came flying out the door and the jumpy gunmen shot at it, but with their attention on the object (a pan, it was just a pan) they didn’t notice the man who followed behind. He was fast, not much more than a red brown blur, shooting the furthest man in the arm so he dropped the gun and then coming in close, punching the first man and kicked the next in the belly. He moved so smoothly, effortlessly. 

Danny forgot to breathe. Because that there was the source of his ghost sense. Because that there was also a human.

Another halfa.

Here in Gotham of all places! 

His heart gave a hard thump in his chest and he gasped, remembered breathing was a thing he sorta needed as a human. He still couldn’t take his eyes off the other halfa. Now there was someone who knew how to fight. His core hummed pleasurably in his chest. The other halfa had taken care of those goons in less than ten seconds. The fourth one was probably dealt with in the kitchen. And the fifth-

Danny was abruptly reminded of how the fifth had a gun to his head, as he annoyingly poked him with that barrel and pulled him backwards towards the door.

“Not another step or he gets it!”

Danny grimaced. He finds another halfa and he’s a fucking hostage? Stellar first impression, right there! Someone please shoot him- or wait, considering the situation that was probably not the wisest turn of phrase. 

“How about you let the civilian go, and I won’t break your kneecaps.” The voice was menacing though clearly modulated and there was a delightful, almost cheerful undertone.

Now that he was standing still, Danny could better appreciate him. He was a big man, probably near a head taller than Danny and so much wider. Death had clearly not stopped him from putting on muscle. Normally Danny might have been jealous, but honestly he was too busy appreciating the other halfa. 

He was wearing a red helmet, faceless except for a pair of glaring eyes and he had a large bat symbol across his chest. This last bit should put Danny off. There were very good reasons Danny didn’t want to catch any attention here. He couldn’t think of them right now. But there were… reasons… yes… and thighs walking towards him-

“I swear I will shoot!”

Oh for fuck’s sake! There were too many people involved. Danny promptly stepped down on his captor’s instep, ducked and twisted out of his hold. 

Red Hood, because that was his name, Danny suddenly remembered, promptly shot the gun out of the man’s hold and took him down with a punch and a crunching kick to the right knee. 

Shit, Danny was jealous, not of the broken kneecap of course, but he also wanted to throw down. He could show the other halfa what he could do, make friends, or more? Would it be too forward to gift him one of his moon rocks?

It probably was too forward? This was the first halfa he met who wasn’t a fruit loop or related to him. At least he hoped he wasn’t a fruit loop.

“Are you alright?”

Danny shook himself out of his thoughts to find that he’d been approached.

Now that he was up close Danny could really appreciate how those arms looked strong enough to bend him in half and- Danny’s gaze stopped at his waist. Was he actually wearing a leather corset? It did great things for his-

“That was either brave or stupid.”

The words had Danny’s eyes snapping back up to the glaring helmet. Danny was frozen. How was he supposed to talk to him? His mind reeled. Do something! Anything!

“How’s this for stupid?” Danny blurted and promptly punched him in the gut with a good deal of ghostly strength. Red Hood bent over with a pained oof.

Fuck! Danny’s brain screamed at him in despair. He could not believe he’d done that! Glancing around he couldn’t find Sam or Tucker so he quickly ran out the diner. 

He was grabbing for his phone in his pocket while running, when he was pulled into an alley. He was so wound up he nearly threw another punch, but then he realized it was just Sam and Tucker.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Danny!” They spoke in eerie unison. Tucker snorted, but Sam continued, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Danny shook his head, realizing he must look a little dazed. He felt a little dazed. He didn’t even feel like taking the obvious bait.

“I punched Red Hood,” he admitted.

“What!” There they went again I unison, almost as if they practiced it.

“Do you think he’d like a moon rock?”

The looks they sent him then, they were indescribable. Absently he padded his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t grown a second head.

“Are you sick, Danny? Was there something in the food?” Sam put her hand on his forehead checking his temperature, even as she looked at Tucker, “What are the chances there’d be blood blossoms in a random burger?”

“Extremely unlikely, more likely something new, never seen Danny react like this.”

Danny grumpily pushed Sam’s hand away. “The food was fine. I’m fine.”

They gave him twin dubious looks.

“Look, let’s just go back to the hotel room. I just need a little rest and I’ll be fine.”

-

Jason gasped in pain to the sound of laughter in his comms. What the Hell was in that guy’s food that he could throw such a punch?

“What did he did the little guy do, Hood? Kick you in the jewels?” Dick managed to ask through laughter.

They didn’t have visuals, small mercies, but Oracle the traitor had let on to the former hostage’s scrappy stature in the run down of the situation.

“He did not.” Jason growled and turned off the comms, done listening to those idiots. Shit, fuck. Definitely a meta, that had been super strength. Keeping one hand over his pained abdomen he walked over to kick the goon who had decided to crawl for his gun in Red Hood’s apparent distraction.

“Don’t even think about it, I am not in the mood for it,” he growled and the goon whimpered.

When he finished securing the goons, of course the meta was long gone. Jason sighed in annoyance. Just his luck.

[bahrtofane]

bruised knuckles

 Jude x gender neutral!reader 

While it’s not that surprising that a last minute party invite leads to a fight, Jude carrying you out was a little bit of an overkill 

Word count - 1.5K+ 

Watch it - physical fight, pretentious male character, bruised knuckles mentioned like once. i am so unserious for writing this yall

—————

“That doesn’t make any sense though. “ You scoff idly playing with the rings adorning your fingers. Most gifts from Jude. 

Speaking of, He sits next to you on a sleek black couch. The both of you got dragged away to some party by his teammates on what could’ve been a lazy weekend at home. He got a call way too early than what was socially acceptable on a weekend, (it was 10 am), and was begged to come along. You were already getting up groaning at the whining coming from his phone. Blame it on being half asleep or unaware but you both mumbled a promise to be there and went back to bed. 

So here you are at a party hosted by god knows who in a now packed hotel, god knows where.

You know Jude doesn't like going to these. He calls them a poor excuse to show off and boost egos. You agree, it's all a ruse to see who can drop the most on champagne or bring the model with the most followers home. All just to have pixelated pictures of yourself blasted on social media 

You couldn’t even call it a party to be honest, there’s a crowd jumbling together in an attempt to dance and music blaring from somewhere. It's more of a bad linkedin meetup. Dim lighting flickering poorly and cups strewn carelessly on the floor. It’s lame and you can’t wait to leave. His teammates that dragged the two of you here have long since abandoned the two of you to do.., actually you have no idea what any of them are here for, nor do you care. 

You just continue to sip on your water and try to keep yourself entertained. It's not going very well. 

The guy you're in conversation with sits on an identical couch across from you rolls his eyes, “Of course you don’t understand. I don’t expect you to understand the complexity of such a topic. “

Judes been pretty silent this whole time, watching the exchange. He understands you prefer to handle things yourself and respects that fully. He won’t take that away just to tell someone off. Though the second you ask he doesn't have a problem getting in anyone's face. 

Now his hand moves to your thigh gently squeezing it, a warning to keep things in check for the night. He knows that you can get into more trouble than you care for sometimes. Spurring into action faster than you can actually process what you're doing. 

You dont want to give him anymore bad press but holy fuck is this guy youre talking to an ass hole. You don't even know how he spotted you in the almost pitch black room. He smiled and asked for a picture with the two of you, and had gotten agitated when you declined. 

“At least give me conversation.” He pleaded.

And so here you are. You regretted the choice about 20 minutes ago. 

Your eyes narrow as you clench your teeth. “Listen I don't care for pretty arguments on topics that are in my jurisdiction ”

The man, who’s name you long forgot, just shakes his head and takes a long drink from his red solo cup. 

“I seriously doubt that. You dress like that and expect anyone to take you seriously like come on. “ He snickers. 

Jude tenses next to you and you try your best to calm the both of you down. Jude isn't one to start fights per say but he's not 6’1 (give or take) for nothing. Reputation be damned. 

You breathe deeply trying to resist the urge to beat his ass right then and there. The cheap laser lights only make your head hurt. Jude rubs circles on your thigh, you settle for a quick response instead. 

“What I wear doesn’t mean shit. I look good. What the fuck you have going for you? “ 

“A diploma ?? I don’t think you have one of those do you.”

Your patience is wearing thin, knee bobbing up and down harshly as you try and focus your attention away from him.

Jude stands, gently nudging your shoulder. It's time to leave. And you agree. No worth entertaining this any longer.

Just as you stand, taking Judes outstretched arm with a smile, setting your cup down on the table.  You get one last retort that truly sends you reeling. 

“Oh yeah walk away,” he begins, using his cup to point at you both. When you dont reply he chooses to get up, following you around the table and back into the dance floor. 

“Let the money maker drag you away,” He yells, grabbing into your arm and yanking it back it almost knocks you off your feet“ So worthless compared to him you don't-”

You don’t let the man finish, rushing from your seat to slam him onto the floor. His drink splashes on your chest as you meet the slippery brown hardwood with a loud thud. Your body jerks with heavy force, ears ringing, but you don’t let up. Trapping his legs under your weight, one arm forcing his hands down while the other lands blows into his face. A crowd has gathered, you know that much, the bass that’s been shaking the floor has stopped as people are clamoring around to get a better look. 

That all fades in the next few moments, passing in a blur as the man under you tries desperately to get up with no avail. You're clawing at whatever you can reach, tufts of his hair in between your fists while he yells so harshly you think his voice is about to give out. 

He manages to land a kick haphazardly to your lower stomach, which makes you groan just enough for your grip to loosen and for him to begin to slip away.

Just as you get a good grip on him again you're lifted on the ground watching him skimper away, heaving deep breaths as he grips a couch arm rest. You thrash trying to slip away from the arms but you're caught all too soon. You're yelling at the man, spitting venom. Though the exact words are less clear at this point. 

When you walk out from the blaring lights, you have half the mind to realize you're in a familiar set of arms. Wrapped around to keep you steady, swinging you over their shoulders. Jude. 

The adrenaline rushes through you, blurring the party and its noise out of focus. You do realize you're heading down stairs and outside, the cool night air like a hotel AC on summer vacation, a little bit of an overkill. But it does good to bring you back to reality. 

“You're going to get quite the reputation if you keep this up. “ He sighs, amusement in his voice. 

You have half the mind to respond with a slap to his back. “Yeah well next time bitches need to know not to try me. A reputation wouldn’t even be that bad for me. Might be bad for you“ 

He pats your back gently and continues down the curb, softly setting you down when you reach your car. You lean against the passenger door, wiping the sweat off your face and checking for any major damage across your body. There are none, just bruising on your knuckles. Dude couldn’t even get one proper hit in. The aftermath of your actions sets in and you groan, rubbing your temples. 

Jude gives you a small smile, gently taking your hand in his. You look at him fondly, if it weren’t for him you really don’t know what you would do at this point.

“I'm sorry. This is going to be all over twitter in an hour fuck.” You apologize. 

“He deserved it. Doesn't matter what they say they weren't there.”

You shake your head, “i need to do better, this is just gonna come back to you. I guarantee you everyone was recording.”

“They can think and do what they want.”

“Jude…”

“No more talk of that. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” taking your hands and giving then a once over.

“No baby. Im fine.”

“Thank god.”

“I'm really really sorry, love.” you mutter.

He fixes your outfit, gentle tucking and rearranging the fabric back into place. “I told you baby, it's really fine. He was disrespectful and passed the limit.”

“Do you think he'll press charges?”

“I'm not sure. But for now dont worry okay? I got you. He touches you first anyway”

“Okay,” you breath out. 

“Eduardo’s getting your stuff, he’s gonna be here in a sec. “ He tells you softly. 

You nod your head and lean onto his shoulder, “The carrying me out was a little bit of an overkill babe.” you play with the buttons on his shirt. Trying to find at least a little light in the situation. 

He snorts, “if I didn’t you would’ve mauled the guy.” 

You shrug in response. Maybe you should lay off parties for a while if they keep ending like this. 

[harrysmimi]

Maybe If You're Lucky

Synopsis: One where Harry is smitten like a kitten

More of my work | Based on this ask

Harry had been so smitten lately. He thinks he might be in love even!

So it all started when he met this girl who was apparently new to town and was asking for directions to him, also apparently her google map was confusing her and she was joining her new job that day. He of course helped her out that day, never thinking that she would take the same route everyday to work from then.

One day he finally gathered up enough courage to to go approach her. Yes, he is more shy when he's not on the stage.

Turned out she did seemed to know who he was and what he did for living, in fact she said she was a One Direction fan at some point but, soon enough Taylor Swift took over her life, which is fair enough. Now she does listens to few of his solo songs, his debute solo album is her most favourite she told him.

Now he got to know she moved to London for her new job as the assistant manager at the headquarters of her firm. It was a big day for her, which Harry gladly saved.

Now he's got himself a date with her!

Her nervously got ready, in just a simple black dress shirt, with a pair of pants, he had let his hair be messy. He quickly put on a nice pair of dress shoes and threw on a coat before he was out of the door. He drove directly to the restaurant where they were supposed to meet up. He only had to wait exactly two minutes before his date was jogging upto the restaurant.

Her bag thrown over her shoulder, a beanie on her head and glove covered hands. She was trying to walk as quickly as she can, huffing put of breath. Harry decided to walk upto her even though he have to walk back towards the restaurant.

"Hey," he greeted her with a big smile.

"Hi," he huffed, and slowed down her her pace. "Sorry, I am really not used to walking."

"That's alright, let's fo in and get you some water first." He grabbed a gentle hold of her hand, he knew she was at work. She had some extra work so she was working on Saturday. That's why their lunch date became a dinner date. Just as they were about to get into the restaurant, YN gasped.

"I swear I was on the same bus, why did I got down like 10 minutes away!" She groaned in frustration, earning a giggle from Harry.

"You'll learn, come on now." He urged her inside, it was warmer and she needs water. They finally sat down and waiter served them some water. "I'll take it your day at work was good then?"

"Oh yeah!" She nodded taking a big sip of her water, "I thought I'd enjoy it more here, meeting new people and all, it's someone as worse as back home. Sorry I am complaining. How was your day?"

"No you're not!" He defended, "my day was pretty good, very productive day." She smiled in reply on hearing about his day.

Soon they ordered their food, and hot know more about one another. Just the mandatory first date things, he got to know few little things and that was pretty much it. Harry could see she was getting overwhelmed. Of course, she has been working all day and she is most definitely tired.

"Come on I'll drop you to your place." Harry suggested as he helped her put on her coat.

"Oh you don't have to really, I can take the bus." She said politely, "thanks though."

"You sure? It's quite late." He pointed out. To be honest he did not wanted the night with her to come to an end. He really did enjoyed the time spent with her. "I insist."

"Okay, thank you." She accepted his offer. Harry so kindly got the door her like a gentleman he is. He drove her to her place, it was a safe neighborhood in a complex. He stopped just right by her building and got out with her. "I had a good evening with you, Harry, thank you for being such a gentleman."

"Thank you for giving me your time," he blushed, "hope we could do this again sometime?"

"Yeah." She beamed a rather contained smile.

There was going to be a second date!

......................................................................

It's been three months, the second date happened.

It was a picnic. She brought some delicious home cooked food which reminded her of home. But it's been a good month and half since they both saw one another. Harry had to be in New York for work.

Harry was dying to see her again, hug her again. He was invited over to hers for lunch when he gets back to London.

YN on the other hand was trying her best to get accustomed to the new country and people around her, Harry definitely helped alot and she made a few friends. Her neighbour, Nina was definitely one those people for her who introduced her to her friends. Her weekends were hardly ever spent at home since. Harry said he looked forward to seeing hearing about her weekends on Monday when they have a nice little call during her lunch break.

YN adjusting to her work was really nothing out of blue, she definitely did got the promotion a couple of months before she got to know they needed her at the headquarters. She was used to the work load and pressure. And her colleagues seemed have not to like her much as someone superior at work.

Well, her dad is the CMO at the branch back home, she had joined at junior executive at the age of 18 and made her way up. Did her dad being CMO helped her growth? You can say that. And she is clearly aware of that fact. But her own superiors did not gave a crap about her dad being CMO at the headquarters or at the branch back home, and she worked hard to be where she is. She gave ten years of her life to the company.

And with her sharing these tid bits with her parents had them have a surprise visit to her place. It ruined her plan with Harry. She haven't told her parents about him yet, though they had a idea there was a boy involved. She doesn't even have the heart to tell Harry the truth.

She was at work and her parents and brother were out that dah exploring the city on a Monday. Harry had went in to visit YN. He looked all cosy and snuggly in his winter clothes and a visitors pass hanging around his neck. He'd brought in lunch for YN.

"Hey!" He greeted her the first thing with a hug as she approached him in the waiting area.

"Hi," she hugged him back, "you look handsome!"

"Thanks, love." He smiled shyly, "you look pretty." He tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear and fixed the fringes she impulsively got last weekend. No she wasn't drunk.

"Thank you." She had a hold her his arm as if she is nervous to tell him something. It was like when she her parents found out that she snuck a kitten in her school back pack on her way home a day after she did pretty badly on a test. "I have to tell you something."

"Yeah, you want to tell me over the lunch?" He suggested, "it's getting cold."

"Oh, yeah, yeah." She realised he was holding a paper bag with take out food containers. She showed him the way to cafeteria and they both sat down at the table farthest away in the corner.

"What is it you wanted to tell me?" He brought up the topic.

"So, my parents are here." She started but paused for his reaction. He isn't really surprised, he really didn't know how to react.

"And...?" He asked.

"I am sorry we'll have to postpone the lunch, they're staying for two weeks." She shared.

"That's fine, love," he shrugged it off, "don't worry about it."

"I haven't told them about you and I, yet..."

"That's completely fine too." This took YN by surprise. But he's told his entire family about her, he had told his mother about her even though they haven't even made it official yet. Hell, they've only been on two dates.

It's a different story that Harry is completely head over heels for her already, that he ended up telling his mum about her and hence his sister and dad and step mother too. She doesn't have to do the same.

"I don't know what to tell them." She shrugged, "the last time I told them I am seeing this guy in junior college, they grounded me!" She let out a chuckled sigh, feeling embarrassed. And here too, it's a different story she was being delusional just to late find out that boy already was double dating two other girls. So her grounding was to really ground her.

"Hey," Harry switched seats to sit next to her. "It's alright, I know we haven't made things official yet but we haven't had the chance to have that conversation yet."

"Do you want to make it official?" She asked carefully, looking at him through her lashes. "It's been pretty official to me."

"I'd love nothing more than that!" He grinned a toothy smile as he placed a kiss on the apple of her cheek. She held up her pinky, he hooked his own around hers. "But do take your time to tell your parents about me and us, there is no rush."

"You're just too perfect, stop!" She hugged his arm making him giggle. She was honestly too nervous about telling him that her parents do jot have any idea about him, but no more than telling the people who birthed her that she is dating a white man. A British white man to be exact!

"I try." He giggled.

They had a good time during her lunch break. YN went back home that evening and decided to tell her parents while she prepared for dinner with her dad. Well, surprisingly her dad was the easiest to handle, he doesn't get angry easily. Her mother on the other hand, she is a tough time. So she decided to tell her dad who will later handle his wife in his own way, he can take all her wrath for his only daughter.

"Well, I knew." Her dad told her, "Jerin told me that there was a lad visiting you today on lunch." He emphasised on the word 'lad' making her chuckle. "Why don't you invite him over for dinner this weekend? Of course, if he is ready."

"You sure?" She asked cautiously.

"Yeah. I'll tell you mother later on." He assured her.

......................................................................

It was Saturday, and least to say YN's mother was just dealing with it. Given the fact her daughter is dating a British guy. She did not approved that. She would rather her daughter marry an Indian guy from a well sophisticated family. But she was willing to put up with this dinner for YN.

Harry on the other hand was lowkey panicking. He had been ranting about this to his therapist for entire week. His nerves were all time high, though he was pretty good at hiding it. He had picked out a pretty semi formal outfit for the evening, a baby blue dress shirt, and black dress pants, with a pair or his faux leather shoes, he chose to wear just few of his rings leaving out his initials rings. He didn't wanted to seem narcissistic on the first meeting with his girlfriend's parents.

He picked up a bouquet of flowers for the mother of his lady, and a rose for her. When he finally got upto her flat, he could hear the laughs and commotion coming from inside of the house. It definitely did calmed his nerves down a bit. Her family seemed a little inviting already, even though he is just a door away from them. He rung the bell, and a few seconds later a young man opened the door.

"You must be Harry?" He said, "I am Veer, YN's brother. Come on in!" He moved aside so Harry can get in. "Please take off your shoes, YN just cleaned her entire flat today."

"Oh, okay." He nodded. And just as they entered the living room, he saw YN on standing on the edge of the backrest of her sofa which was pushed against the wall, hanging up pictures frames. She clearly looked a bit frustrated, her eye bags gave it away. She still looked gorgeous, dressed in an oversized beige jumper and a pair of loose fit jeans and her Cars socks. Her hair tied up with a claw clip on the back of her head. She had just one of the picture hug up before Harry caught her eye and she turned red in embarrassment. There was still a pile of frames stacked up on the coffee table.

Her flat was pretty small for four people to live in, but perfectly too bit for one person. Given all he knows her family is staying with her at her place. The living room was small and cosy, and door which lead to the bedroom. A kitchen which he missed by the hallway. It was all cute, and interior reflected YN's personality in it.

YN quickly got down from the sofa and approached him. "I am sorry about that."

"It's alright, love." He told her calmly.

"This is my mother, Harry. And Mumma this is Harry." YN introduced both of them. Harry went to approach her mother carefully and have her the bouquet of flowers.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. YLN."

"Thank you for these Harry, and like wise." The lady smiled. Which took YN by surprise. "And this is Veer, YN's brother."

"Yeah, we met at the door." Veer said, "go on, why don't tou meet dad he's in the kitchen."

"Oh, yes!" YN grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him back towards the hallway he just came in from and to the kitchen.

There the man was, a look alike of his girlfriend. Gray hair and beard kept clean and nice, a pink appron wrapped around his waist as he cooked up some amazing food.

"Papa, meet Harry!" YN announced, "Harry this is my dad."

"Hello sir, nice to meet you!" Harry smiled shyly as he approached with a handshake, but YN's dad surprised him with a hug.

"Nice to meet you too Harry." YN's dad said patting his back. "So Harry, do you like to cook?"

"I am not very well at cooking I'm afraid, but I can cook some pasta dishes." He shared, "this smells very fragrant, I should say!"

"Papa is the best cook ever," YN started, "his best dish is the Chicken Pulao he makes, since you're vegetarian he's just making veg today."

"That's very considerate, thank you!" He again smiled shyly.

"You kids go out and have fun, food is almost ready." YN's dad suggested, "we'll have a chat over dinner."

"Sure, you want any help?" YN asked to which her dad declined. She took a hold of Harry's hand and walked him out.

"Harry you want to see YN's baby pictures?" Veer announced.

"Oh god!" YN groaned rolling her eyes as she followed Harry to the sofa, he quietly handed her the rose he got her.

He sat down as Veer shared back stories of each of YN's baby pictures. He got to know YN is the youngest, she's got yet another older brother is stuck at work unfortunately. There was a family picture frame where YN seemed to be around 22-23, she had worn a gorgeous black sparkly saree with a slick back bun and a bold burgundy lip. Oh how Harry was smitten again!

Another picture from the same day with both of her brothers. And a few other pictures pf her with her niece and baby nephew. The reason behind all these pictures was her mother who didn't wanted her daughter to feel alone all the way in another continent. Which is very sweet in Harry's opinion. It's a rather good option to stay grounded when you can see pictures of people who you love and who love you everyday.

Soon the dinner was ready and least to say, Harry felt very welcomed in her family. He felt all his worries melt away the more he got to know her parents. Yeah, her mum is a little tough but she is like a marshmallow inside who loves her daughter dearly.

Harry also noticed YN had the tose he got her tucked over her right ear nicely. She looked adorable that way.

Again he did not wanted the night to come to an end but he had to leave, he's got to go studio the very next morning. YN walked him back to his car.

"It was fun meeting your parents, your dad is amazing!" Harry shared.

"Seems he already likes you, more than me might I add." YN giggled.

"What about your mum, she did not seemed much impressed by me, did I do something wrong?"

"Don't worry about her, she'll come around." YN assured him. "I don't want you to go though!"

"Trust me baby, I don't want to leave either." Harry sighed as he leaned back on his car reaching out to pull her closer with his hands on her hips. "We'll spend the next weekend together, yeah?"

"Yup!" She nodded, "thank you for the flower, it's very pretty!"

"You make it look prettier." He swears he's falling in with this girl every passing micro second, he's just too nervous confess just yet. His compliment made her blush though, "anyway, will I be able to see you in a saree in person?"

She squinted her eyes as if she is thinking hard. "Maybe if you're lucky. One day, yeah."

"Oh if I am lucky?" He raised his eyebrows acting surprised, "aren't I lucky now? Have got you in my arms."

YN's awkward senses kicked in as her nose scrunched up to mock him, "you are lucky, yeah!"

Harry let put a defeated sigh, "I don't want to leave."

"You have got an album to make." YN pouted sadly looking at him with puppy eyes behind her glasses. "I have be up early tomorrow as well, apparently my dad's got a surprise which requires getting up early."

"Well do share with me what the surprise is." He said to which she nodded, they stayed in silence for a couple of minutes before he impulsively asked her, "can I kiss you?" It's shocking? Not really, they haven't kissed yet. Well, they hardly saw one another.

YN reaction was holding back an embarassed laugh covering her mouth, "I haven't done before, so sorry if I suck. But yes, you can kiss me!" That made Harry giggle.

"You are adorable!" He went in for the kiss sliding up one his hand on the back of her head. He pressed his lips on hers gently, in a closed mouth lips which lingered longer than YN anticipated. "See it was amazing!" He announced again making her hide her fave in his chest. "Alright, you're making it harder for me to leave now."

"It's working then." She mumbled again the fabric of his shirt. "Okay, okay I'll let you go now. But text me when you get home yeah?"

"You know I will." He pressed a kiss on her hair. She reluctantly pulled away from him and took a few steps backwards before she was running back into her building.

......................................................................

Now it's been a couple of more months. Harry birthday passed by. He got to finally take YN to see his mum and sister, he said he'd take her to see his dad some other time as he seemed to be busy around that time.

Harry was invited to one his best friend's birthday and album released party. Ed Sheeran, his best friend. To which of course he decided to go, he asked his girlfriend to be his date. It was going to big party at one Ed's Villa. It was a themed party, everyone was supposed to wear something black.

So Harry put on one his simpler suit, styled up his hair and put on some nice cologne, got a rose for on the way. He went over to pick up his girl. He went upto her flat instead amd what he saw left him in complete and utter awh!

There she was wearing the same saree he saw her wearing in those pictures few months ago. She looked exactly as stunning in those pictures, or somehow even more. This time she had her hair pulled up in a low slick bun, and wore a smokey eye look and the same bold burgundy lip. God he could kiss her right then and there!

So he did, he pulled her in a big smooch on her mouth. "God, you look stunning baby!"

"Thank you!" She smiled shyly, "oh can you please help me get this?" She turned around and there was a top hook left opened which she couldn't get, so he helped her with it.

"Also, I'm gonna do this." He placed the rose carefully on the side of bun. He'd especially asked the florist to cut the stem short because he's figured YN loved wearing roses he gets her.

"Aw, that's cute, I'm gonna go look at it!" She bunny jogged to her bedroom and came back out just as quickly. "It looks so nice!"

"It does indeed." He agreed grinning ear to ear.

"Okay let me wear my shoes and we can leave." She clapped her hands silently and was hopping her way to her shoe rack before he stopped her.

"And where is your coat, miss?" He asked.

"Oh, I don't need that. It'll ruin my look!" She whined as she looked for her shoes.

"Nuh-uh, we're not going anywhere unless you wear your coat. It's fucking freezing outside, don't want you getting sick. Get your coat or a cardigan at least." He insisted, but firmly. He seriously wouldn't budge, he'd got to know her well in these five months that she gets sick way too easily. Like every month she has to catch a fever or a cold.

She slump walked to her room and got a coat, which he helped put on. And once she put on her shoes they were headed out. Harry drove her to the party.

"I can't believe I am casually going to Ed Sheeran's birthday party!" She fangirled in the car. And even told Harry about how she impulsively bought very expensive looking tickets to his shows, two of them so she is not alone and can drag her friend along. She had just started her new job at the very minimal salary. More than half of her monthly salary went into buying those tickets (the nosebleeds!!) and she gradually saved up enough to book a hotel room and train tickets as the concert was in another city. Those were best chaotic three months of her life.

Finally Harry stopped in front of the venue. It was a party thrown by Ed's manager and least to say the mans did not shy back on spending money. There were valet for every guest. YN felt at ease now knowing she won't be over dressed.

She enjoyed the party would be an understatement, she had a blast. Especially Harry introduced her to Ed in person, her inner fangirl did not shy off. YN was bursting with joy when they left the party.

"Oh my god! I actually got to meet him!" She fangirled on her way back to Harry's car with a little hop to her walk.

Harry was just happy to see her happy and bubbly. They finally stopped by his car by the passenger side, he pulled in close with his hands on her back, under her coat softly caressing her exposed skin.

"Did you enjoyed yourself?" He asked, moving in closer.

"I actually had a blast!" She exclaimed again making him giggle.

"Haven't got to kiss you all day." He pouted sharing. He was actually hesitant of ruining her makeup, thinking her lipstick might smudge or something.

"I was with you the whole evening, why didn't you?" She looked at him confused but could feel her heart melt.

"Don't want to ruin your makeup and smudge up your lipstick." He looked at her with puppy eyes.

"You know I wouldn't have mind, plus my lipstick is tranfer proof." She shared watching his fave lit up.

"Why didn't you tell me that before!" He gasped, and the next thing YN knew was feeling his lips on hers in a needy kiss.

In that moment he knew, he loved her.

[delta-pavonis]

Fic Teaser: Parasomnia

(The morning after Special Exhibition, so spoilers there if you haven't read it. This little bit is rated T.)

Dear Dream,

Many would start such a note with “I just couldn't bear to wake you…” but, to be quite honest, I fear it would be too disingenuous given that I did everything short of cracking the smelling salts to wake you before I left. I was worried enough that I checked all your vitals. Upon finding you not dead, nor bradycardic, nor hypotensive, nor hypoxic, nor hypoglycemic, I decided you needed the rest.

Make yourself at home. And I mean that truly. Hell, you know where the toys are kept if you somehow feel the urge. (I, for one, am giving my bollocks and backside a break for at least a few days. No regrets, though.) There is barely any food in the pantry because of my holiday schedule, but there is plenty of coffee and tea. Enjoy anything and everything I have in stock. Or just order takeaway.

I left my car here and took the tube in. Keys are by the front door. You are welcome to drive my car to the hospital or get on a block south and ride in to pick up your car. I told the hospital parking attendant to log it under my name, so no rush getting here, your car is safe.

Rest. Go back to sleep if you want. (Actually, drink a glass of water first. We exerted ourselves rather, ah, thoroughly last night.) Take all the time you need. 

I’ll be back about 6 tomorrow morning. If you're around, we can have breakfast. If not, I hope I’ll see you soon. 

Text me when you are up and moving?

Yours,

Hob

P.S. Last night was fantastic. You are absolutely stunning. xoxo

Dream reads the letter fully three times before putting it down.

“Yours.”

Something in his chest soars.

Mine.

He wants Hob to be his very, very badly. 

Probably in ways Hob very much does not intend. 

Probably. 

Dream drops the note to run his hands over his face and flops back onto the bed. The sheets smell of Hob and he turns to press his cheek into them before he can think better of it.

Oh, yeah, he’s proper fucked. 

One hand wanders down to his abdomen, to above his groin, and for a moment he feels Hob within him again and groans. His other hand lands on the bruising on his shoulder, presses softly, just enough to remind him of Hob's mouth. 

Dream closes his eyes and remembers the taste of Hob, his skin and mouth and sweat and cum. He suddenly misses him, desperately. 

Which is insane. 

They’ve known each other–actually known each other, not the weird parasocial relationship he had with Hob via his TikTok ASMR videos–less than a week. How can Dream possibly miss him?!?

This is just the rush of a new relationship. It will pass. It will pass.

But Dream doesn't want it to pass. 

God, it has been ages since he felt this good. Since he had someone respond to him, to his intensity, in kind, to meet him punch for punch. It is what he thought Corin would be, or Calliope, or, fuck, Nada way back when. He thought they could become this. He and Killala had it for one bright, shining moment, before they burned themselves out.

And yet here Hob is, matching his steps, following his lead in this dance, seemingly without much effort, on the first try. Dream is going to have a whole lot of trouble letting that go, now that he knows it possible. 

Fuck.

Dream grabs his phone from where it was placed on the nightstand next to the letter and looks at the time. 

Which makes him sit up in bed like a shot.

It is almost five in the evening. He has slept for over twelve hours.

[foxwyrm]

Edit: turns out op misinterpreted another post, and made an albeit poorly-worded response to it. It was not their intention to hurt those with intrusive thoughts, as they suffer from those as well. While they definitely could have worded things in better taste, it was not their intention to make a "thoughtcrimes are real" statement. I will delete this post if op wishes.

😐? 🤨?

I am NOT going to respond directly to op because well I do not think they would treat me very well ! however I'm mad at this so I'm posting here

- urges are morally neutral. urges are morally neutral. whether or not you ACT on that urge determines morality. I thought we knew that intrusive thoughts are not representative of personal interests! I get violent urges towards human beings sometimes when I'm upset! But I don't act on them because that's bad and i know its bad!! I am not a bad person for having violent urges, I am a good person for not acting on them!

- "you don't have to question whether or not you're a piece of shit for wanting to harm...your pet" well op you see the people you're talking about probably already feel really fucking awful about these urges then and therefore are probably not acting on them. but here you are, making them feel so much fucking worse for something they genuinely have no control over

- insanely ableist language all around from op to be honest.

- "if you want to do gross things like animals in the wild that's fucked up" .....a lot of us are animals. "animal" comes with this gross parts too. you can be uncomfortable with it and cater your online experience to avoid it but like. animals are going to do animal things man. a lot of predatory nonhumans hunt deer and that's cool! Good for them! I am uncomfortable around guns, so I generally don't interact with nonhumans who frequently post about hunting. Maybe people posting about their violent or otherwise gross urges upsets you, which is really valid! Most intrusive thoughts ARE extremely upsetting, especially for the person having them. so instead of making them feel worse, just move on, block if you need to.

- all in all op is a fucking ableist asshole who only cares about the palatable side of nonhumanity.

Nonhumans, and humans! who have incredibly disturbing intrusive thoughts, urges, etc. and feel gross and awful about them: you are not a bad person. you cannot control intrusive thoughts, that's why they're called intrusive. your thoughts do not determine if you're a good being, whether or not you act on them does.

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚒𝚒

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: well… hashtag justice for pancake

✮ cw: smut, oral (m receiving 👀)

✮ wc: 3k

“looks like the date went well,” carly slides into the chair opposite jules, cup of coffee in hand and plate piled high with toast between them. “nico was a success?”

it takes her a full minute to remember who nico is. right, the boy that had stood her up. she’s about to open her mouth and say as much. but what will she say after? does she want to explain the deal she’s made with matty? 

forget the deal, does she want to tell carly that she slept with him?

besides, before she can even open her mouth, carly’s eyes widen, pointing at her neck. 

“jules…” she’s half-out of her seat with curiosity, “what’s that on your neck…?”

jules touches her neck in a trance, knowing exactly what’s on her neck, knowing why the skin feels tender beneath her fingers. her hair is up in a bun too, there is no hiding it. 

fuck. how had she not thought to cover it up before coming into the kitchen!

“um…” she closes her eyes, blushing slightly, “a bug bite?”

“a bug bite,” carly snorts, “looks like it was a… passionate bug.”

“ew!”

they both burst into a fit of giggles, clutching their stomachs and laughing till her ribs hurts and carly’s cheeks are red. she’s happy, jules realises with sudden clarity. there’s sun shining in her kitchen and she’s laughing with a friend and her coffee tastes extra fucking magical if she’s being honest. 

the laughter peters out and carly smiles at her. 

“you look happy, jules…”

“i am,” she bites her lip to keep her grin in. 

“are you seeing him again?”

she knows carly means nico and not matty but she’s not ready to spill that particular secret just yet. still, she tries to be as honest as possible. 

“yes, i think i am. it’s very casual though, that’s all i want right now.”

“casual is good,” carly nods, “i also have some news though, perhaps not as casual…”

jules can see her chewing on her lip in anticipation, a little flush on her cheeks as carly takes a sip of her coffee. 

“adam asked me to move in with him…”

jules bolts upright, almost upsetting the tower of toast. “what?! carly that’s amazing!”

her eyes sparkle and she grins so wide that jules can’t help but mimic it. “it is, isn’t it! but…”

“but?”

“well, you. i can’t leave you alone to pay rent on a two bedroom flat. that would be cruel!”

her eyes soften, and she extends her hand towards carly, holding onto it tight when carly places her hand in hers. 

“you are a sweetheart, but i promise you, i can afford the rent for a few more months. and i can always look for a flatmate, remember?”

carly hesitates. 

“i promiseee,” jules urges stronger. she knows how much carly likes adam, she knows how excited she is to move in with her boyfriend. it’s written all over her face really. “i’m not a child, MUM!”

carly snorts, but jules knows she’s not going to need more convincing. 

still, they go back and forth some more, jules trying to convey that she is more than happy to be alone for a few months, that she’s looking forward to it, even. she’s never lived alone before. and yes, it makes her nervous, sure, but it also fills her up with excitement.

“when do you move?” jules asks. 

“i was thinking…two weeks?”

once back in her room, jules checks her phone, frowning in disappointment. until now, she hasn’t really allowed herself to think about all of last night, but now she’s alone with her thoughts. and they won’t let her feel a moment of peace.

every time she thinks about matty she feels a familiar ache between her legs. she feels the flick of his tongue and the slight burn of his stubble. jules slides the fabric of her shorts aside and peeks at the still pink skin. she’s sure her cheeks match that shade. 

she can’t believe she’s trusted max enough to let him convince her that it would be bad. that she’d effectively never asked him to go down on her in their three year long relationship. and now jules just feels stupid. 

she has a sudden and strong urge to call him and yell at him but she’s not ready to open that can of worms yet. instead, she goes to facebook and looks matty up. 

they don’t have each other’s numbers yet—they hadn’t gotten the time to do that last night, and he’d snuck out before she’d woken up. it stings a little but jules understands. it’s better that he’d snuck out before carly got home. 

what will she say now that she’s found his facebook?

her fingers hover over the ‘send request’ button. what will she say after? love your tongue. big fan?! that’s fucking stupid. she almost backs out then, but she’s going to have to do it sooner or later. 

so she clicks, looking away like the laptop is going to implode from this simple action. her heart leaps in her chest when, a minute later, she gets a notification. he’s accepted the requested. another second later, there’s a ping.

matty: stalker ;)  matty: sorry i snuck out like that  matty: did u have a good time tho?

well, he’s direct…

jules clears her throat and starts typing. 

jules: you can say that ;) jules: sorry about looking you up like this, i didn’t have your number and… matty: u didn’t check ur nightstand?

jules sets the laptop aside, turning towards her nightstand. and there it is, clear as day and half-peeking out from under pancake the bear—a piece of paper. just as she reaches for it, her laptop pings again. 

matty: nice bear btw 

she giggles at the thought of half-naked matty finding pancake in some corner of the bed and having a little laugh. then she unfolds the paper and there it is, his number, scrawled down in uneven handwriting with the words ‘call me’ scribbled right underneath. 

jules grabs her phone and dials the number. he picks up on the second ring. 

“his name is pancake,” she speaks as soon as she hears the call connect.

“poor pancake,” matty tuts, his smile so clear in his voice, “he saw a lot of things last night.”

last night… jules flushes despite herself. she’s new to this, she doesn’t know how to act around a casual partner. all she knows is she wants to see him again… maybe return the favour.

“hi, jules,” matty says in a singsong voice, bringing her out of her thoughts. 

“about last night,” she swallows nervously, “i had fun…”

“oh yeah?” jules strains her ears to figure out where he is but everything in the background is quiet. “should we…repeat last night then?”

she’s sounds a little too eager when she responds. “when?”

“you tell me.”

if it were up to jules, she’d call him over right now. she doesn’t remember feeling like this ever, so teeming with lust and like matty’s awakened something within her that she didn’t even know was there. jules twists a strand of her hair around her finger, wondering how soon would be considered too soon. 

“tomorrow night?” she hedges, hoping it’s acceptable.

matty clicks his tongue. “shame. i was hoping for tonight.”

the fire in her stomach burns a little hotter. tonight. he was hoping for tonight. 

“i thought…”

“you thought…?”

“i thought it would be too fast.” she feels a little shy admitting it to him. for a solid minute, there’s silence on the other side, so much so that she wonders if he’s hung up on her. then she hears a small exhale. 

“i told you it’s not a relationship, jules. we don’t have to worry about speed.”

right. that’s right. he had told her that. she kicks herself for forgetting that and toys with a stray thread of her blanket. 

“tonight would be nice,” she confesses, her voice suddenly all quivery and breathy. she hears matty’s shaky exhale too. “maybe i could return the favour.”

“what favour?” the interest in his voice is clear. she giggles. 

“you’ll see.”

and then she hangs up the call, too flustered to keep on going. her body already feels like it’s on fire and jules starfishes on the bed, closing her eyes to think about last night, to think about matty in the darkness and his mouth making her see stars. how by the end of it, she’d barely been able to keep her eyes open. 

tonight, it’s his turn to feel all that.

the entire day she spends vaguely distracted and in a dreamy haze. there’s a phantom feel of matty’s fingers on his body, lust simmering under her skin. 

it’s when she showers before bed does she see the faint bruises he’s left behind, marking her with his fingers. jules blushes. 

she doesn’t know when he’s coming—pretty late, she assumes. she wants to text him once or twice, but then again, she’s rather enjoying the anticipation of it. carly, mercifully retires to her room at 10, leaving jules twisting and turning in her bed, still fully clothed. 

at 10:33, there’s a small clink on her window. she narrows her eyes at it, wondering if she hallucinated it.

a second later, another tiny clink comes. someone’s thrown a little rock at her window. oh my god! she dashes, leaning in so far out that she’s in danger of falling out.

“matty!” she hisses, half-impressed, half-concerned. 

one look at him though, and her face breaks out into a smile. his curls are all over his forehead, practically in his eyes and matty’s in the clothes that she’s started to call his ‘uniform’—a pair of black skinny jeans with rips on the knees, and an old band t-shirt. usually one of the classics. 

tonight, it’s a mazzy star one.  

he gives her a crooked grin. “can i climb up?”

jules bunches her eyebrows in concern, wondering if the pipe he’s looking at is going to hold his weight. he slaps it once as if that’s enough to test its structural integrity. 

this is bizarre! insane! he is insane. she could try to sneak him in, she’s like 50% sure it would work too. but there’s a small part of her brain that’s enjoying this thoroughly. her heart skips a beat when he slips about six steps up, only gripping onto her window frame at the very last second. 

she lets go of the breath she’d been holding, giggling at him while he swings a foot over the frame, making it inside safely. 

“hi,” she smiles, suddenly a little shy. matty gives it one second before he crashes his lips against hers. jules forgets the world.

she calls out his name in a half whisper and nudges him until his back is pressed to the wall. matty lets her manoeuvre him, mostly to satisfy his curiosity, she thinks. she can feel his smug little smirk. 

he smells mouthwatering—like the night and cigarettes and maybe even a little weed. he feels so solid and hard against her. he holds her so close too. jules pulls back reluctantly to take off his t-shirt, fingers bunched up in the hem while she goes back in for another kiss. 

“your turn today,” she whispers, trailing the kiss down to his jaw. matty jerks his head, a half nod, and moans out a yes. his pupils are dilated when he briefly opens his eyes to look at her, just it time for her to get the t-shirt off him and somewhere on the floor.  

every touch of his fingers on her chest, stomach, neck leaves little jolts of current on her skin.

he slides the straps of her cami aside, trailing his fingers down her shoulders while jules is busy kissing the hollow of his throat. his skin feels cool, like he was outside for quite some time before showing up under her window. 

under her window like some perverse iteration of romeo. 

his hand trails down, bunching her shorts up enough so he can touch her properly. jules gasps. 

“thought about you all day, darling,” he confesses, “thought about your mouth.”

jules is so lost in the feel of his touch that she doesn’t even bother correcting him. no darling, no pet names. with one last kiss, she kneels and matty shivers. the lust and anticipation is so clear on his face, in his pink, swollen, parted lips and the drooping of his eyelids. 

she feels confident like she’s never felt before. 

her hands ghost over the zipper, asking for permission. matty rests his hand on her head, fingers tangled between her wavy brown hair. it’s nowhere near tight enough to hurt but tight enough that jules knows how badly he wants it. 

the room burns hot as she fumbles with his jeans, fingers shaking with excitement. she even looks up at him, making sure to stare at him through her eyelashes like she’s the portrait of innocence. matty swallows so hard she can see his throat bob. 

“stop teasing, jules, you’ll kill me…” he sounds desperate, he sounds like he’s aching all over and heat pools in her belly. low current simmers under her skin.

“open your mouth,” he begs, “please.”

jules obeys like a good girl. 

matty pulls himself out the second she’s done undoing his zipper. the size of him, the hardness that almost twitches under her fingertips makes her mouth go dry. there’s a tiny warning, his hand caressing her head, before jules feels the weight of his cock on her tongue, tastes the vaguely salty precum. 

if this were ma–someone else, she would fake her moans and act like she’s having the best time in the world while trying to quickly get it over with.

with matty her moans are involuntary, almost like it’s him controlling her body even though one look at him and jules can tell he barely has control over himself. it’s clear from the way his hips buck, and he lets out one shaky breath after the other. 

“don’t look at me like that,” his voice quivers, “fuck, jules—”

“should i look away then?” she teases, pulling back a smidge so she can speak.

“no!” his voice is firm, a little commanding too if she’s being honest. she wants to be touched so badly. she wants to be fucked so badly. 

desperately, matty thrusts his hips and jules gags a little. his breath hitches and he’s almost about to apologise and hold back, she can feel it in her stomach, so she swirls her tongue over his slit. instantly, she is rewarded with the loudest moan she’s ever heard from him. 

her head spins.

“use me,” she moans, scratching his hip with her nails. she tilts her head up again, stealing a glance at matty. and that’s what it takes for him to lose all restraint.

she gets a second to relax her throat before he's pulling out a bit and thrusting in, harder now, deeper too. he’s using her just like she asked. fucking her face just like she wants. tears run down her face, a bit of drool running down her chin too while she breathes through her nose and matches his pace. 

jules hums and moans around him, relishing the way his whimpers and gasps have given way to soft praise. 

“pretty, perfect girl,” he almost growls, “my pretty, perfect jules.”

her stomach flutters. she clenches around nothing, rubbing her thighs together and desperate for some friction. 

she can tell he’s close by the way he's twitching inside her mouth. his hips move at a fast, erratic pace and matty’s so loud, jules wonders if carly can hear it. not that she cares… she’s never had a man so vocal. she’s never had someone groan and moan as loud as him. she feels smug pride—the kind that almost has her gloating internally. 

she’s the one making him feel that way… no one else. it’s a possessive thought that has no business being rooted in her brain like that, and yet try as she might, jules can’t get it to leave.

so she just wraps her hand around his base, giving it a firm squeeze. it pushes him over the edge. 

a moment later, she can feel her mouth being filled up with warm, salty liquid, can feel him struggling to stand on shaky legs. she tries to swallow it but she’s not a pro, some of it dribbles down her chin, mixing with the drool and the tears. 

“pretty little mess,” matty coos when he opens his eyes and looks at her. 

she grins at the praise. matty kneels in front of her, traces her lip that’s already sticky. traces its corners too. the skin under his fingers burns a little, perhaps from a stretch. but matty looks at her so much tenderness that her heart melts. 

“was i too rough?” he sounds a little uncertain, jules clicks her tongue.

“you did what i wanted you to.”

“wanted me to use you?” he smirks, almost back to his usual flirty self. “didn’t know you had such twisted ambitions.”

neither did she, jules thinks. she never thought she would enjoy any of this as much as she did. she never thought she’d be the type of person to get into a friends with benefits arrangement. and yet here she is, kneeling on the floor with her knees all red and raw, cum on her chin and her hair a mess. 

matty wrinkles his nose as he looks behind her. “poor pancake.”

she turns around too. the bear is exactly where it was before, turned just a little so it’s facing them. a beat passes and they burst into a fit of giggles. 

“poor pancake,” she echoes, looking back at matty. “i guess he’ll just have to get used to this now.”

[rainhidesmytears]

Miraak x Reader NSFW

(This is literally just an idea I had in snippets all piled together for Miraak, it's a lil bad but that's okay, we're here for affection not perfection. Lemme know if anyone likes it!)

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

The first time he'd woken to her kisses, she was startled and bright pink in the face, worried she had crossed some invisible like that they hadn't spoken of yet, only to be greeted by an amused gaze as he would play with a strand of her hair that was close enough for him to reach.

"Enjoying yourself this morning, Dearheart?" He'd take notice of how her eyes dilated, and that silent swallow she did when she was nervous whenever she was scolded, watching as her gaze sort of flickered down to her hands that were placed on the bed to hold herself up, else she'd fall on him-

"I- um... Yes. I'm sorry- I thought- um?" She'd flounder for a minute, the tips of her ears turning a cherry sort of red as he slowly understood in his sleepy haze that she had very much been enjoying herself. "I-I'm sorry, Miraak. I should have asked beforehand- but you looked comfortable and... and I didn't want to wake you. You don't get enough sleep as it is- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She's embarrassed and flustered- and this man has half a mind to fuck the insecurities out of her right that instant. But of course, he contains his own urges. Bringing a hand to hold her jaw and bring her gaze back to meet his own, still very comfortably lounging against the large and very luxurious pillows he refuses to go without.

"What if I was to say that I enjoyed being woken like this? It's not every day a God is loved and cherished with the warm and gentle kisses of his lover. How could I deny such a delicious request if it were to come from your lips?" His words are sincere and clearly just a hint of a tease as his hand moves to the back of her neck, gently tugging her down to his level to taste her kisses himself, able to feel her melt against him, her hands hesitantly hovering in place just a little closer to him as she sits up on her knees now so she won't fall, only for him to grab her hands, physically moving them and placing them on his naked chest.

"I am yours, My Love. Be selfish with me. Touch me, kiss me, taste me, bite me if you so wish. You need not shy from me. Regardless of whether my attention rests with you wholly or if I am still asleep. You may take me as I am in any form you choose." The tone that he says this is almost like he's begging her to continue, and he is. His voice is still soft from sleep, kissing her, pulling her closer, and letting her touch him with his hands over hers so she isn't unsure, begging this woman who loves him so honest and deeply to be selfish with her own desires because he desires her just as much, if not more.

"I can - I can kiss you when you're not busy? Even when you're tired?" Her tone matches his, wanting to make sure she is allowed what he is silently offering her, only for the Priest to laugh and kiss her again.

"You can kiss me always. I only ask that you mind the attention you wish to give me when important guests arrive, but yes, My Love. Yes, you may kiss me. Busy or not. Kiss me, touch me, and give me any of your attention. I am eager for your affections. Especially if I am to be woken by such gentle cherishing. You make my heart sing for you, Beloved. Never doubt this." His lips are against hers as he mutters the last part, before she has pulled back a little bit and he watches her chew on her lip a little bit, moving to sit that much closer so she can reach him-

"Does that mean I can kiss you more?" She means now. In that moment that he'd woken to, only for him to grin up at her and give his very eager approval, only for the woman to kiss him again. It's slower and deeper than he'd usually expect from her, but his hand drops from her neck to her thigh beside him, enjoying this new wave of confidence from his woman as her kisses begin to travel. Across his face and even over his eyes, feather light in nature and even against his ears- oh his poor heart beats to life in these moments.

Her kisses trail from his face to his neck and just under his jaw, knowing she can get away with it because he thinks she isn't aware of what it does to him when she IS, and she just keeps little discoveries like that quiet. Her lips travel to the center of his throat and then to his pulse point, but she keeps those kisses mostly closed, and then more open mouthed kisses across his shoulders and then down his chest, her tongue just barely hinting over the scars she can reach and the hitch in his breath tells her how much he is enjoying this. Her slow kisses began lulling him back to sleep only for the feeling of her tongue against him to pull him back up- and he can't even find it in his heart to groan about it because it feels so good, especially when her teeth graze over his nipples - oh, this Dragon Priest is in love.

She's not fast or harsh enough to jolt him awake, but his cock is another story. His woman is taking her sweet time in getting a taste of her lover, letting her fangs just barely graze over the center of his chest where his ribs connect or the center of his stomach before her tongue has pressed against him again before she sucks a mark into his skin- she can't keep her hands to herself, and it's as if time stops between them, allowing her to kiss and suck and caress as much of his skin as he allows before a quiet moan finally breaks from his lips. His cock is hard under the blankets they share, aching from her playful teases and cherishing and pulsing when she travels low enough he can feel her lips against his hips, following the curve lower past his pelvis and then finally pulling at the blanket. But his woman is infuriating.

She does it slow enough that the friction against him is prominent but not fast enough for a rush of cold air to properly wake him- she's takes such care to keep him comfortable and relaxed and partially dozing off again only for her lips to make it to his thighs, these slow careful bites into his flesh bringing him frustration and ecstasy,  only for her kisses and playful licks to meet the inside of his thighs instead of where he wants it.

When her lips finally make contact, it's not what he expects because her slow open kisses are against his balls first, and it makes him drop his head back into the pillows with this breathless moan leaving him at the surprise of how thoroughly she's taking this, only for her to start sucking and licking where she knows is most sensitive- but she's so careful with her attentions, not allowing him the chance to drift again but also not rousing him enough for him to be aware of anything other than her lips on his cock- and by the time he's finally vaguely beginning to drift again because it just feels so heavenly she's finally taking the tip of his cock into her mouth. Slow sucking that makes him pulse and twitch because he wants more, but his exhaustion doesn't allow him to make demands, only drawn out moans and sighs of relief make it past his lips in that moment. When she finally takes mercy on this poor man and starts sucking his cock, he doesn't have enough energy to pull her hair to tug her closer, until she grabs his hand that had reached for her, only to entwine their fingers as she takes him down her throat?

Oh, he can't even close his eyes anymore because the view of her cherishing him and swallowing his cock as she holds his hand just pierces through his heart when she gets him to cum. It's such a drawn-out orgasm too because of all of her teasing, paired with being able to watch her take him so well and swallow what he gives her. That orgasm lasted much longer than he'd expected it to, and the man felt like he was floating, only for her to start sucking again and milking that poor Priest until his eyelids were so heavy and his moans were damn near whimpers.

Miraak can go a good while until it's finally too much for him to take more, and gods he loved how she took him, keeping him comfortable and warm and sucking his aching cock until he had barely anything left to give as he held her hand like a lifeline, quietly begging for her to stop HOURS after she'd started.

"My Love, please- Oh~ Oh, My Love- I can't- I can't take more, Beloved. Let me rest. We'll play again another time." It's this gentle plea, quickly interrupted by him cuming again before she'd slowed to a stop and let go of his cock, grinning so widely at him as she tucks him back into bed, pressing gentle kisses across his skin once more before he has pulled her back to his side, turning to use her as a pillow as they cuddle up together- and he sleeps hard. Well on through that day and even into the next morning before he had even attempted to rouse from sleep because she was there, her wings laid over him to keep him warm and comfortable and it felt so good that he hadn't a care in the world. It was the first time he'd missed an entire day of work, even one of the servants coming to check on their Master, only to be relieved at the sight of him sleeping through the night, wrapped in her arms with his face in her breasts- covered by blanket with the fire going? They take it upon themselves to finish what he'd worked on, allowing Miraak an entire day of rest with no outside interruptions. Not a single noise aside from their even breaths as they slept together. No arcane auras, no chatter, nothing but them, and the crackling fire.

[bunnyreaper]

speak now

pairing - john price x f!reader

wc - 2k

warnings - weddings, possibly unrequited love, exes, post-break up, jealousy, swearing, wee bit of angst

notes - more price because i am falling hard for this man and no one and nothing can stop me? taylor swift inspired as always!

read pt2 here! have a request? drop it on me! or read this fic on ao3!

John Price is well-versed in holding himself back. As an army man and trained operator, he usually has an unbreakably tight grip on his own self-discipline. 

Those traits were things John would hold dear about himself, hold to be true and unwavering—until recently, just under a year ago now.

That's when everything started to crumble.

The task force's recent mission had gone surprisingly well, and John had found his cigar intake was less than usual and his lungs were happier for it—fortune was smiling down on him, until he got that news . 

You'd shown up after your leave, an unmistakable brightness in your step... and a rock on your finger. 

John remembers the way his jaw clenched as he bit his tongue and forced a half smile onto his face. 

"Congratulations, love." He whispers, pulling you in for a hug—he allows himself that much at least, even if this only serves to test his resolve even further. 

The way you feel in his arms, the way you clutch at his neck, the familiar smell of your perfume—it almost pushes him to the edge, almost pushes him to tell you that you're making a mistake. Why won't you just come back to me?

Your bodies fit together so perfectly, like they always did, just for the briefest of moments.

"Thanks, John." You say as you pull away, your voice wavering as you desperately search his eyes for his approval. 

He knows what you're looking for, and with all his aforementioned discipline, he forces his eyes to soften, forces himself into the shape of exactly what you seek as he speaks. "I hope he makes you very happy." 

A truth and a lie. A double-edged sword. 

"Yeah." The way your posture shifts suggests to John you were expecting another response, it doesn't go unnoticed by him as you continue. "Me too." 

The silence stretches on, and John's skin starts to itch, the words start to bubble up and tickle his tongue—they're right there.

He can't say them, shouldn't say them, won't say them.

"Better go tell the boys then." He adds, clapping your arm in a friendly gesture and dismissing you, because he knows you're at least kind enough to give him the courtesy of letting him know first. 

And he urges you to leave because he needs you gone, he needs to process.

"Yeah, gotta ask Johnny to be my maid of honour." You laugh, and the melody only makes his chest ache more. 

***

You'd given him more outs, more opportunities to speak up time and time again, yet he hadn't taken any of them. 

You asked him directly if he would be there long before sending the invites, to which he'd stupidly replied of course before you could even finish your worried thoughts. 

Not only that, but you double-checked his invitation response to make sure he wasn't bringing a plus one, almost as if you wanted him to have someone there. He had no one he wanted to bring. 

You'd gone out of your way to not discuss wedding planning in front of him, and had diverted conversations away from the topic if you knew he was in earshot. You were trying to make this as painless as possible for both of you, and he could tell. 

Why couldn't he just move on? Why couldn't he just be your friend? Better yet, why couldn't he just be honest about how he felt?

"Is this... weird for you?" You ask one day as the two of you sit together in silence as you scribble away inside a planner.

He knew you were working on arrangements for the wedding, but had sat beside you anyway, and had asked questions he didn't really want the answers to just because he knew you wanted him to care, to be okay with it. 

"No, darling." He lies, the words coming out in an instant, the pet name a relic of the past he can't let go of. "Is it weird for you?" 

Suddenly, you can't meet his eyes and your fingers still, no longer writing whatever it was you were. "I don't know. I know it shouldn't be." 

It's weird because it's wrong, John notes in his head. It's weird because it should be us planning our wedding together.

His eyes are fixed on you, waiting for you to look up and hoping you'll finally see the way he still looks at you. Hoping you'll take one look at his sorry state and realise this whole thing was a terrible mistake. 

"What yer talking about?" Soap swings a leg over the chair beside John, severing the moment in two, dashing any hope he had.

You feel the snap too—the awkwardness, the forbidden in where the moment was heading, as you rush to divert Soap from the truth. "Wondering if I can convince you to wear a dress." You smirk.

"Want me to steal yer thunder, bonnie?" He chuckles and winks.

Your eyes roll back, yet a smile pushes through, and whatever you were thinking about is pushed from your mind. "You can certainly try, Johnny boy." 

John excused himself after that, having to take a moment to remember how to breathe. This had all gone too far, and yet he can't bring himself to do anything about it. It wouldn't be right, it would be selfish, and that was the one thing he'd tried not to be.

That's why he'd ended it with you in the first place. 

He'd told you back then that you deserved better, and yet now he wishes more than anything he could have swallowed those words.

Now he's choking on them.

Here he stands, in the front row of the ceremony room, feeling entirely helpless and consigned to his grim fate.

Your future husband is standing just a few feet away, looking fucking smug. John's skin crawls looking at him, just as it always has. 

Was it a legitimate feeling about the man, or just the fact he was dating you? Marrying you?

Regardless, right now all John wants to do is give in to the itch in his fists, lunge across the aisle, and tell him to just let you fucking go, let you come back where you belong. 

Really, he knows he's only got himself to blame—he was the one who let you go, practically pushed you away. Always self-sacrificing, John Price, even to his own detriment, even when it means letting the love of his life walk away into the arms of another man.

An undeserving man at that.  

As John is practically staring daggers into your fiancé's brain, the man stares back, the smug smile now directed at John—because he knows that John is seething. He knows he beat him, got the girl, got the life John wanted. 

John's not entirely beaten. He's still here, after all.

The fiancé's little plan to get John uninvited almost ended the entire wedding. God damn the power of love and compromise, as now John has a front-row seat to his worst nightmare. John hates that he wishes that argument had been the end of it all.

He's braved the battlefield, stared death in the face, and yet this, this feels like the gravest end, the death of something more meaningful than just his mortal life.

The two men's standoff is broken by the sound of doors opening, and the harpist in the corner strumming her instrument to life and filling the room with an angelic melody. It's still not enough to cut through John's mood and spare him from his festering regret. 

The processional goes by without a hitch—the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, Johnny, all making their way down the aisle with fond, celebratory smiles on their faces. John isn't blind to the waver in Johnny's smile when he meets his subordinate's eyes.

And then everyone turns. 

His eyes land on you, his breath vacating his body, his heart lurching, his spirits soaring—you're just so breathtakingly beautiful .

Everything he ever envisioned, when he dreamed of being the one waiting for you at the end of the aisle. 

He prickles, knowing the dress isn't what you wanted, but your fiancé's mother's dream instead. He hates knowing under the ivory gown you're walking on uncomfortable heels at someone else's insistence, with a man by your side partaking in traditions you hate. 

It's your wedding day in name only.

He's transfixed as you move closer and closer, lost in memorising your face as a blissful smile overtakes your features. He wants you to be happy, in many ways, yet maybe his heart is fighting so hard because he knows you'd be happier with him .

Your eyes meet John's as you near the end of the aisle. Your feet stall, your expression drops. Tears streak down John's cheeks, tracking their way to the pained smile on his lips—the sight of which burns right through you. 

He watches as your fiancé's father urges you on, and you take your final few steps to the front, standing before your husband-to-be as you look over each other. Dry eyes, John notes to himself bitterly as everyone in the room takes their seats.

The officiant begins to speak, but the words are beyond John's comprehension, all he can focus on is you—the soft rise of your chest in the lace bodice, the blue pearl earrings dangling from your lobes that were a gift from Johnny. He remembers helping the man pick them out, unbeknownst to you.

What strikes him most is the look in your eyes, yet he doesn't trust himself to accurately assess what lurks behind them—maybe he's just seeing what he wants to see—dullness, pain.

It's nothing like the looks you gave each other when you were still together, not filled with nearly as much love, or reverence, or joy. 

Your eyes aren't filled with tears like he expected, as he recalls one day the two of you laid in bed together, whispering sweet nothings. You'd commiserated in the fact that you both knew you'd be blubbering messes on your hypothetical future wedding day. 

It wasn't meant to be that boy up there, holding your hands and waiting to slip a ring on your finger—it was meant to be him, John.

The world around him comes back into focus as the words ring around him.

"As they say, speak now, or forever hold your peace." 

There's a silence, every thought and impulse in John's mind wages war on itself as he forces himself to his feet and all eyes turn to him. 

He doesn't notice the horrified looks, the concerned shock from the 141 boys, or the way Simon's hand tugs at his sleeve. 

All he's looking at is you, the spark that ignites within your eyes. 

He has to force himself to speak, his voice coming out gruffer, more emotional than anyone who knows the man has ever heard, as the words tumble from his lips. 

"Y/N, don't do it." 

[secret-smut-sideblog]

You Know Me Too Well

Gortash x F! Dark Urge

18+ masochism, power play, oral (f!), impact play, sub/dom, p-in-v, knife play, blood play, gortash being a freak (and a bottom), aftercare, some tenderness, porn w/o plot

After the coronation, she can't get the familiarity he showed her out of her mind. She needs answers, and the Archduke is more than happy to indulge her...

-

"Well, this is unexpected." He crooned, turning to lean against his desk.

She lowered herself down from the windowsill, shooting him a sharp look.

"Don't read too much into this, Enver." She hissed his name, only eliciting a wider smile from him.

As if she hadn't scaled a castle wall to crawl into his chambers. She closed her eyes in frustration. What was she doing?

"In that case, what do I owe this late night visit from my favorite assassin?"

Why was she here?

Answers. Yes, answers.

"You seem to know me. Too well, if I'm picking up the correct undercurrents."

She circled around him, noticed that he seemed to perk up at her predatory movements. Turning to look at her with more lidded eyes.

"I do know you."

"Were we together?" Her hand danced over her dagger hilt, something she found herself doing often.

His eyes flicked down to that movement. Back up to her eyes, stepping closer.

"Yes."

Something burned in her pelvis.

This close she realized how tall he was, staring down at her. Yet, she felt entirely like the one in control. There was a stirring in the back of her memory.

"I get glimpses sometimes. Your face is in many of them." She looked down now, closing her eyes.

"I have taken all of his gifts, but I don't want to be a pawn to my father. I dont want to be controlled by anyone, god or man."

Looked back up at him.

"You never tried to control me, did you?"

His eyes softened, reaching out and cupping her cheek. The bite of metal and warm calloused fingers.

"Never."

She stepped closer. Could hear his heart thumping, felt a dagger drive but pushed it down.

"I need you to help me remember who I am. Who I was."

He smiled, then leaned his head back and chuckled reverently. "What weren't you? Brilliant, bloodthirsty, beautiful. Gods, you were everything. All my scheming and bad nature paled in comparison."

His eyes meeting hers again. "We were equals, you and I. But I was wrapped around your finger, if I was being honest."

He stepped even closer, their bodies nearly flush. "You liked me under your boot."

She shivered at that. Feeling it to be true.

"And did you like being there?" Her voice husky, wetness pooling between her legs.

"Oh, very much." He purred, leaning down.

Their lips were hovered across from one another. So very nearly touching. His pupils blown wide with lust.

"Show me." She whispered. "Show me how much you missed me."

He remedied the short distance between them, enveloping her in a hungry kiss.

She pushed back into him with the same force, pulling on his collar.

Yes, she remembered this. He tasted familiar, smelled familiar. Gunpowder, musk, heat.

He lifted under her thighs and pushed her onto his desk, slotting between her legs. Pulling his finely embellished shirt off with haste, throwing it down.

She leaned up, all instict, and bit down on his neck. Her sharp teeth breaking skin.

He shivered, eyes rolling back. A low whimper escaping his throat.

She growled, feeling that deep heat rising up in her. Something that she had feared when touching others. But not here.

She lapped at the blood that flowed out for her. The iron taste mingling with his sweat. Copper and salt.

"You like when I hurt you, don't you?" She hushed, moving up to his ear. Nipping at it.

He nodded, gripping at her hips. His erection straining hard against his trousers.

"Speak, Gortash."

"Yes."

"Good boy." She licked the edge of his ear. Smiling at the way his breath caught.

She raked her sharp nails down his back with a deep satisfaction. Sighing in pleasure.

"I'm going to leave you marked. Bloody and battered." She promised, smiling.

"Gods, yes," He groaned, dropping to his knees.

She leaned back, legs still open on the desk. "You were like this often, weren't you?" Removed her blouse with an easy pull.

"You liked me here." He panted, watching her movements with ravenous eyes.

"That does seem like me." She laughed, removing her leathers, now naked on his desk.

His hips rocked subtly, drinking her in.

"What would we do next?" She teased, leaning forward and cupping his chin. Pulling her hair free from its pins with her other hand. Falling free and bouncing down to her waist.

He moaned, leaning forward and catching her mouth in a greedy kiss.

Without prompting he clasped his hands behind his back.

"I see," She smiled, pulling away. A string of saliva connecting them.

She leaned back on the desk, spreading her legs.

"Eat."

He dove forward and lapped at her cunt. Crushing his tongue into her with vulgar need.

Her head fell back, a shudder ripping up her spine. Oh, she had trained him well.

"Fuck," She hissed, looking down at his dark hair between her legs.

He moaned in pleasure, looking up at her with glazed eyes.

"Slower," She moaned, hips fucking his mouth.

He nodded, tongue moving into languid devotional stripes. Coming up to suckle down on her clit then circling back down to push inside her.

She moaned, a high call. Head falling back again. Gripping his hair in her fist. Ribcage rising against the cold mahogany.

She was degrading herself to be here, a tyrant between her legs. She was far too good for him, and that made her need it even more.

She pulled on his hair, directing his eyes to hers.

"Take your cock out."

Saw his eyes lid, shoulder moving, following her command.

"Touch yourself, slowly."

She couldn't see his hand working but felt his whimper into her cunt.

That sent her reeling, her orgasm on its precipice.

He pulled back briefly to get a breath and she saw how his maw was coated in her arousal, dripping down his jaw before he leaned back in with greater fervor.

That did it, her eyes retreating to the back of her skull.

Her legs clamped down around his head, hands bracing her at her side. Moaning out in choppy cries, a great wave of agonizing pleasure ripping through her.

He continued, fucking her through it. Unrelenting.

She clenched down in pulses and he groaned, licking up her come in greedy tonguefuls.

Grabbing his hair she forced him back, panting.

"Very good." She purred, "You make a good fucktoy."

His eyes glazed over again at that. Hands returning behind his back. Cock red and weeping.

"I think I'll take you now." She lowered down off of the desk, pushing his chest.

He fell onto his back with a smile, eyes lidded and dark.

"Make it hurt." He panted.

She straddled over him, leaning down, her arms rested on his chest. Her ass high up in the air.

She opened her mouth as if about to say something, instead snapping her hand hard across his face.

He groaned, hips hitching up.

"You like that? How embarrassing for a lord." Striking him again harder, his eyes closing, groaning again.

"What if I told all of those nobles that their archduke liked getting his pretty face hit?" She hissed in his ear. Hips lowering down to grind teasingly against his length.

"That he liked being choked." Her hand coming down around his throat.

"That he liked being put in his place, hmm?"

"Please," He moaned, looking into her eyes. "Please hurt me more."

"Good boy, I like when you beg." She sat back on him. Trapping his cock flat under her, grinding down viciously.

He moaned, head turning to the side.

She drug her sharp nails hard down his chest, little pinpricks of blood bubbling to the surface along her trail.

His hands clawed at the wood floor, back arching.

"How bad do you want to be inside me?" She smiled as he panted.

"Please, I need it. I need you to ruin me." He urged, eyes wide and pleading.

She reached for her dagger, brandishing it with a satisfied sigh.

She smiled, rising up and aligning him at her entrance. "You'll bleed for me."

She slammed her hips down, sheathing herself to the hilt.

He cursed, head thrown back. Hands gripping her hips but not directing them. Holding on for dear life.

She struck against his sternum with the pommel of her blade, hard enough to bruise. Hips rising and falling in a vicious rhythm.

The wind knocked out of him, his cock twitching hard inside her.

"What a pretty bruise you'll give me." She smiled at the skin already blotching.

"More," He groaned. Hips coming up to meet her.

She held her knife against his throat, leaning forward.

His eyes widened, pupils so blown they were just black saucers.

"Open your mouth."

He did, panting hotly.

She spat between his lips.

He moaned loudly, eyes closing. Hips moving in fervor.

"You're going to come with my knife inside you."

Beyond words, he could only nod desperately.

She leaned back and started carving slow lines into his chest. Bouncing hard on his cock. Nearing her own end again.

He nearly screamed, hands gripping with bruising strength on her hips.

The blood pooling on his chest ignited the spark again, her orgasm ripping through her like an impaling spear. She shrieked, her cunt clenching down in tremendous pulses, wrenching him.

He whimpered loudly and gripped at her knife hand, holding her by the wrist. Directing it over his heart. Pushing down until the skin broke.

He shattered under her then, beating his fist down into the floor. Screaming out her name and all the curses he knew. Back arching high as he spilled into her in sloppy desperate thrusts. His spend filling her to the brim, an obscene amount already leaking out. His eyes rolling like marbles in his head.

Finally, he collapsed into the floor. Chest heaving, face red and blotchy.

She stared down at her work, the tapestry of cuts and bruises adorning him from neck to belly.

She pulled off of him, and he reached for her as she retreated. "I'll be back." She smiled, finding a wash basin in the corner of the room.

She brought the bowl and a few fresh wash cloths over, kneeling over him.

Gently beginning to wipe him he stared at her, bewildered.

"You are different." He marveled.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked, pausing.

"No, this is nice." He sat up slightly, still not at full strength.

She wiped away the blood, discarding the cloths as they got soiled. The basin dark red by the time she was finished.

"Thank you, for loving me before." She hushed, putting a cool palm on the angry skin. "I don't think I'm the same person you knew, but I can still feel it."

"I think you're still you, just a little softer." He mused. "Afterall, you still want to shed blood."

She sighed in admittance. "It's a burden. The power is incredible, it feels right. But I don't know if it's worth being subservient to my father."

She shook her head, playing with his fingers absent-mindedly. "I want to be free. I need to be my own master."

"If anyone can defy a god, it's you." He encouraged, sitting up and taking her face in his hand again.

"I have the utmost confidence in you. Do what you need."

She held his hand to her cheek, closing her eyes. "Thank you."

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"My assassin, my muse. No matter your nature, you will always be a part of me. Thank you for coming back to me."

~

[mysticsublimeperson]

<< part 2 >>

Merlin woke up feeling cranky, he didn't exactly sleep. It resembled more to several disgusting and sweaty naps, and a lot of self deprecating introspection in between.

So Merlin decided to stop trying around 10 am, and moved to the sofa. He didn't have anything to do that day, they weren't waiting for him in the lab, nor in the office, they all thought he would have been too hangover. Funny.

He needed to get out, to get coffee, to try and look for a new perspective, or at least a solution, so he got up and dressed and went to open the door.

A sharp thud sounded when something collide to the ground.

"Arthur?"

"Shit, er... Merlin, sorry, good morning?" Arthur was trying to blink away the heaviness.

"Were you sleeping in my hallway?" Merlin was really confused now. Arthur had always been a bit of a prat, and he grew up rich (and still was very rich, even if he denied it) so he was posh. In all the years he knew him, Arthur had never volunteered himself to discomfort, because he could afford not to.

"Yeah, I.. Well, you told me to go, but then I thought that if I went then I would have to come back in a few hours, and well it was really early in the morning, and I didn't bring my car, so I would have to call for a car and then, well come back, and wold spend like a proper half hour just pacing around my flat, just so far away from you... guessed you also wouldn't be answering your phone, so waiting here seemed like the better option. But now that I say it out loud, it sounds kinda stalk-ish" He said sheepishly, his voice was still deep, and slow. Trying to recover from sleep. He stood up, but was supporting in the door frame. "It's just... you seemed really upset. I know I was the reason, but" he gulped "you are always for me when I'm like that..." Merlin sighed.

"Come in" Merlin talked with a controlled voice. He would have wished for a little more time to figure this out, but if he was honest maybe more time would have only made him more paranoid.

"I, er, yeah, thank you" It was extremely strange to hear Arthur so insecure, but Merlin needed to focus on his situation, and not fall into old habits. "How.. How did it go? Yesterday I mean, sorry I didn't ask sooner"

Bad, he wanted to say.

You ruined it, he wanted to shout.

I missed you, he wanted to cry.

"Fine, I guess" he didn't want to offer information, he sat in the sofa again.

Arthur gulped again and put on a tight smile. "I see" sitting beside him.

"And you? How was your dinner?" Merlin suddenly felt tired again, he didn't want to shout, or yell, he didn't want to incriminate or fight, he just wanted this situation to be over. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several

"Merlin. I am so sorry" he said after a while. Without looking at him. "I know there's no excuse... and the way I treated you when you arrived here too... you didn't deserved that" his voices sounded tight.

If this had been any other day, Merlin would have folded, he would have told him that it was forgotten. Any other day, Merlin would have bitten the bullet of disappointment, and would have try to understand his point of view, his situation. Any other day...

"Arthur" he said after a long silence "I think it's time for us to rethink about what we want from this relationship" he could see the moment all the muscles in Arthur's body tensed up.

"What do you mean?" He sounded so scared, and Merlin fought the urge to hold him.

"What I mean Arthur it's that, this relationship can't go on like this forever" Merlin breathed slowly, trying to express himself as accurately as posible "I feel like im living on borrowed time with you, and even if you are the one in the wrong, I feel like I should just be grateful to have you a little longer, no matter how you much you may hurt me"

"That's not true Merlin, please, I would never intentionally hurt you. how can you think that? I love you" he finally looked Merlin in the eye. They were red and swollen, and a bit desperate.

"I know you love me Arthur, I believe you" he tried to swallow the knot in his throat "but sometimes that's just not enough" Merlin sat back at the sofa, looking at the ceiling. The same ceiling he had been looking since he arrived yesterday, thinking the same things, over and over. "I know you love me, and I love you, more than anything. But I also know that you would never invite me to a company dinner, you would never even acknowledge me in front of your coworkers, you would purposely hide me from your dad..."

"Merlin" Arthur said his name like a warning.

"Im not trying to be resentful Arthur" Merlin spat "they're just facts. Like the fact that you hate your job, and it makes you miserable. But you would never leave. Even if it's a shit job, at a horrible and inmoral company" he kept his tone neutral, he wanted to make a point "I would never ask you to leave, because a would never want to put you in a position where you would need to choose"

"Merlin" now his name sounded like a prayer, and a question.

"I think I always knew that I really never had a chance if you had to choose" suddenly his voice quivered.

"That's not..."

"Arthur please!" he really didn't want to hear empty promises, so he made a gesture for him to wait "I told you that yesterday was important, you knew that. And you choose him" he will not cry, no more "You ditched me, last minute. You left me alone even though I told you I Wanted you with me" his words bouncing on the walls.

"I didn't think..." Arthur was trembling a bit. And he looked like his world had been rocked and put upside-down.

"Arthur, you already have a life planed out. And you are the one that's choosing to keep it that way, you are going with the plan. And one day I will have to see how the papers and magazines cover the stories of you ascending to CEO of the world's most evil construction company, and marrying a young nice pretty girl, who is really boring and bratty but also insanely rich and has good connections, and have three beautiful very normal and healthy kids... all while I keep fighting with my little NGO to change the status quo that you reinforce. Don't you see that you don't have space for me in your future?" all the resolve to keep his cool abandoned him mid speech but at least he got it out. Arthur was looking at him like he had just told him that he only had a minute to live.

"I don't see a future without you Merlin" Arthur said, really softly, eyes shining with soon to be shed tears.

It hurt Merlin to hurt Arthur.

He never wanted to hurt Arthur.

Merlin brought up his legs and hugged his knees, hiding his face momentarily biting his lips hard, while blinking away the tears. "I love you Arthur, and I don't think I could leave you alone if I wanted to. But I think this relationship... it puts unfair expectations, for both of us" Merlin swallowed "It's not fair for me to expect something you are not ready, nor willing to give" he argued as calmly as he could. "I suppose we work better as friends"

He could see Arthur wanted to fight.

He also could see that Arthur had seen his point.

"What if...?" Arthur started, shaky. "What if I leave?" Merlin's brows furrowed confused. "My father, I mean. What If I leave him? What If I leave Pendragon Constructions? Everything... what if i..." he was starting to stammer and was not making sense. So Merlin took his hands.

"Why would you do that?" I was the genuine confusion in his expression that made Arthur sob.

"Because I love you Merlin!" he practically screamed with broken voice and desperate eyes. "please" begged silently.

"I think that if you do that. You'll resent me, eventually" he tried to reason while giving a reassuring squeeze to his hold "He is your father Arthur, you love him, and you want to make him proud, I understand that" even when he knew what it meant for himself "But you also are better than he could ever be" he assured "You won't ever lose me, I'll just need some space"

"I don't think I can do that" Arthur spoke carefully while caressing his hand "I don't know how to, I don't want to" he breathed trying to calm himself. "But I will try for you if you want me to" he swallowed "But don't misunderstand. I am not giving up on us. I won't" using his hold he pulled Merlin in for a hug. "I am sorry, I am sorry I disappointed you, I am sorry you felt like that, but above all I am sorry that you are right" he hugged him strongly and Merlin tried and failed nor to melt in his arms. "But this won't be the end Merlin, you are right for now. I will work, everyday, every moment to deserve you, to make you feel loved, to prove to you and to myself that I can become the man that you think I can be, and when that day arrives, Merlin I will sweep you off your feet" he talked those words like it was a threat, directly in his ear, while holding him close, so Merlin decided that just one last time, he would believe in him.

He would keep hoping.