#happiness is a warm gun; musings

[darklordofthesimp]

Ipseity (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Part of the "Anything" verse, can be read as a standalone.

Summary: When the 141 has to make a choice between saving you or a fellow sniper, you know that your time has come to an end.

A/N: This was meant to be a short filler and now it's like 4.5k long. Hope you're all happy.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Graphic Language | Graphic Violence | Gun Violence | Graphic Description of Injury

The ringing in your ears woke you up. 

It was a high-pitched squeal that scrambled your thoughts and made your head pound. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't get past the overwhelming dizziness whenever you tried to raise your chin.

Blood stung your eyes. Your chest burned. You hadn’t been in this much pain in years, every pinch of your nerves prodded at long-forgotten childhood memories. They were things that had been left behind from before you enlisted, things that no longer mattered. What mattered was that you were tied to a chair and barely breathing. 

You were going to die here. 

And nobody was coming to save you. 

"Oh,” someone crooned from behind your seat. You didn’t have the strength to turn your neck and you thanked whatever cruel deity was listening that you hadn’t flinched. The least you could do was fake some courage for what was to come. 

“Come back for more?” Your mouth was dry, wretchedly so. You wanted to gag and spit, but there was no moisture in your mouth- it was like sandpaper. 

“There’s not much left in you for me to take, Sol,” Valeria said, her fingers trailing the length of your shoulder. Your body shivered beneath her touch as she slowly circled your chair, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“Oh, I’ve always got something left for you, gorgeous,” you chuckled, flashing the drug lord a weak grin. 

She snorted, the harsh light of the overhead lamp illuminating the edges of her features. She was a sharp woman, Valeria, somebody that you secretly admired. Not for her deeds or the atrocities she’d committed, but for her tenacity and her ambition- there was no stopping her. 

“You’ve always been my favourite sniper, you know,” Valeria mused, pulling her hand from your skin to inspect it. Your blood stained her fingers, thick and warm from where it had oozed from your wounds.

“You usually kill your favourite snipers?” You tried to raise your eyebrow but sharp pain ripped through your face, you realized dimly that the skin of your forehead had been split.

“Only when they steal things that belong to me, Luz,” Valeria whispered, pressing her hands against the armrests and leaning in. “Then, I kill them.” 

“We didn’t do it,” you met her gaze evenly, the false claim falling easily from your lips. 

“You’d die a liar to protect your friends,” she nodded thoughtfully. “It’s unfortunate that they have chosen not to give you the same courtesy.” 

You frowned, taken aback by the statement. You suspected that the 141 wouldn’t be there in time, you’d come to terms with the fact that your journey might end here. But, the way she’d said it… it was as if you were missing something. 

Valeria’s brows raised, eyes wide as she mocked your surprise with a gasp. “Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it earlier.” 

“Mention what?” You ground out through your teeth. 

The drug lord huffed a laugh, pushing off from your seat and standing upright. Sweat began to form in a thin sheen across your skin, anxiety running rampant through your system. 

What did she mean? 

Valeria’s eyes hardened as she tutted under her breath, pulling the blade on her thigh from its sheath. When her attention turned back to you, the malice in her gaze made your spine straighten. 

“What you stole from me,” she began, pointing the knife towards your face, “got someone very close to me killed.” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat like gravel and your tongue like concrete. 

The woman was seething now, the cool facade that she’d worn had melted into pure vitriol and hatred. It was an expression you’d never seen on her but on so many others throughout the years, it was the stare of someone who blamed you for their loss. 

“So, as penance,” Valeria pressed the tip of the blade to rest against your chest, “your Task Force will have to lose one of their own- even after they bring me the information.” 

“What-” 

“We have the other sniper,” the drug lord shrugged. “The little broken one.” 

Your heart stalled in your chest, fear dousing your body like a bucket of ice water. Blood rushed through your ears, loud and roaring and all-consuming with the sound. You couldn’t think straight, the image of your colleague being tortured flashed across your vision like a spotlight. 

“Birdy.” You whispered the name but it sounded like a plea rather than a statement. Valeria must have heard the begging in your voice because she only smiled. 

“Birdy,” she confirmed, with a smug tilt of her head. 

God, please no. 

“Let them go!” You lurched against your restraints. 

The latina's eyes were like stone, hard and unyielding. She was in pain, she was hurting and now it was her chance to hurt you all for what you’d done.

“I will,” she nodded her head soothingly, fingers coming to trace your trembling jaw. You snatched your face from her touch and she raised a brow. When she leaned back with a sigh, you knew what was coming. 

Valeria struck you hard. 

The wounds on your face screamed and it felt like someone was making you gargle molten lava. Your eyes watered but you made no sound, you gave her nothing to indicate that she’d hurt you. 

“The 141 will bring me what they stole,” Valeria sucked in a breath, watching you from beneath her lashes. “But they can only save one of you.” 

Your eyes widened. 

They can only save one of you. 

You knew then that you were going to die here. 

“What’s the matter, pequeño sol?” Valeria spoke with a mocking lilt. Your body trembled. “You don’t think they will come for you?” 

“No.” 

The word was soft and broken and you wondered if the drug lord had even heard it. The way that her smile wavered implied that she did. 

“No,” she nodded, standing straight. “Neither do I.”

If you hadn’t been so shattered, you would have seen the glimmer of pity pass over her features. 

You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, "will you keep your word?"

"What?" 

"Will you keep your word?" You repeated firmly. No one was stupid enough to trust the word of a drug lord but right there and then you would take it as law. If you were going to die you needed to know that Birdy would be safe. 

Your eyes bore into hers. Valeria swallowed and you could see her hesitation, the desire to spit on the dying flame in your chest and put it out. 

Instead, the woman only nodded. 

"I will." 

Instantly, you relaxed in your seat and leaned your head back with a sigh. You closed your eyes, fighting the tears that had gathered along your lashes. 

This was it. 

This was the end of it. 

You weren't stupid enough to expect anyone to come save you, not when Birdy's life hung in the balance. There was never a doubt about who was more valued on the team, despite your skills you'd never be able to contend with Birdy's spot on the team. 

It wasn't about who was better, it was about who was loved. 

And nobody in the 141 loved you more than they loved Birdy. 

No one. 

Your lips trembled and you fury rose like a volcanic eruption from within your chest. You would not die crying. You would not die without dignity. 

"I'll be leaving to retrieve my package," Valeria sighed, sheathing her knife. "Once the handover is made, my men will put you down."

You grinned.

"After all we've been through," you feigned hurt. "I thought you'd want to do the honors, gorgeous." 

But Valeria didn't bite. She didn't laugh nor did she retaliate, the woman only watched you with an unreadable expression. 

"We are the same, me and you, Sunshine." The drug lord stood tall, "Deberías haber sido valorado. Morir con orgullo."

You blinked dumbly.  "I don't know what the fuck you said but I'm going to assume you think I'm hot and that you regret not sleeping with me before I die." 

Valeria rolled her eyes and turned away. 

"You act tough, Sol. Don't die thinking this is anything but a betrayal."

Betrayal. 

You offered nothing but a snort, laughing the chill of her words off your spine.

The woman left the room and immediately the silence was overwhelming. There was no one to lie to now, no one to throw your facade at. You found yourself almost asking her to stay as she closed the door behind her, biting your tongue to reserve your dignity. But, you didn't want to be alone, not when the end was approaching so quickly.

 Though, you guess you'd done this to yourself. 

Always good, but never enough. König was your best friend, but you knew he'd leave you in a heartbeat to save the sniper he truly loved- you couldn't ask any differently from him. 

After all, if it had been between him and Ghost, you were sure you'd make the same decision. 

A pathetic tragedy in itself considering the feeling wasn't mutual.

Simon Riley loved Birdy, just as the rest of them did.

You would never compare, you'd never come close, not with your ambitious demeanor- not with your shitty attitude. You'd never allowed yourself to view them as family and when they'd tried to include you, you hadn't let them in. 

If your own family had wronged you, your own flesh and blood, what would the 141 do any differently?

By the looks of the situation: nothing. 

No one was coming to save you. 

The burning beneath your lids became so aggressive you wanted to tear the skin from your face. You wanted to gouge out your eyes, just so that the only thing dripping would be blood- not tears. 

Never tears. 

You were not Birdy, you did not cry. 

You were not Birdy. 

You'd never be Birdy. 

The pressure in your chest grew and swelled and suffocated, extinguishing the fire you'd kept burning for years. Through everything, you'd held strong. Through hellfire and brimstone, you'd crawled your way across death and misfortune to emerge from the ashes stronger. 

You did not break. Not until now. 

A scream ripped from your chest, unrecognizable. It wasn't you who wailed, it was the child inside who mourned their life. It was the adult who'd never been loved the way they'd prayed for in the dead of the night.

Never enough.

Never enough for König, the man who always found himself by Birdy's side, chasing for the crumbs of their attention.

Never enough for Simon Riley, who'd taken your heart and crushed it every time he watched you with distaste- with disappointment.   

You were never the priority. 

Never his priority. 

You'd never be anything to Ghost, not the way Birdy was.

But you were not Birdy and you'd not die wishing that you were. 

You pulled at your restraints, thrashing in your chair with renewed energy. While you knew it was unlikely you'd escape, at least you'd be put down fighting. 

"Hey!" One of Valeria's henchmen shouted. 

You struggled harder, the skin of your wrists ripping from beneath the ties. Fresh blood trailed down your fingers and you smeared it wherever you could reach, wetting the braided rope until it was slick with crimson rage.

Your heart jumped as your hands slipped through the restraints, the gory lubrication helping you pull your crumpled fingers free. 

"Stop!" The cool metal of a barrel pressed against your forehead, putting an instant halt on your plans. 

You glared up at the man before you, his eyes were hard but his hand trembled, the weapon jittering against your skull. 

"I will fucking paint this room with your brains," he hissed, the cigarette in his mouth jolting with each word. "Try me, I dare you." 

"If the 141 comes with the package and I'm dead, Valeria will butcher your entire family, cabrón." You were careful as you spoke, enunciating each word as clearly as you could muster. 

The butt of his weapon struck your cheek hard enough to send stars skittering across your vision. 

"I speak," the man hissed, "not you."

"I'm trying to warn you-" 

He hit you again, this time harder. You felt your teeth dislodge from in your mouth and panic gripped your heart as they slid down your throat. 

"I said don't speak!" He shouted, the words warbled as your vision spun. Your head lolled to the side, gagging as you choked on your own bones. Bile speared through your chest as a combination of blood and stomach acid hit the floor weakly. Your teeth clattered across the ground, like dice rolling across the board. 

"Ricky!" The man called over his shoulder. "Alguna palabra sobre el paquete?

"Aún nada, hermano."

"Mierda! ¿Por qué tarda tanto?"

The conversation fell on deaf ears as you fought to keep yourself conscious. Your hands were freed but now the element of surprise was lost and there was a barrel pressed against your face. 

"I should kill you right now," the man spat in English. "You fucking murdered my brothers like a coward."

"They should learn to duck," you shrugged weakly. 

This time when he hit you, it threw your seat backward. You hadn't been able to move your hands in time before the weight of your body and the steel spines of the chair slammed against your forearms. 

A sickening crunch reverberated through the room, echoing like the toll of a church bell and while that was loud, your scream was deafening. 

"Let's be honest with ourselves, Sunshine," the man laughed, watching you as you writhed and sobbed. "Nobody is coming to save you." 

He cocked the weapon slowly, leaning down to press the barrel against your forehead once again. You couldn't even keep your eyes open as you struggled for breath, choking on your own spit and blood as you shrieked. You wanted to watch him, you wanted to go down with defiance- but fear gripped your throat so tightly you were choking on it.

You weren't going to die fighting. 

You were going to die suffering. 

When the gunshot came, your body recoiled so hard that your head smashed the concrete beneath you. In that horrible moment of silence that followed, you wondered if there was no peace even in death. Agony ripped through your nervous system, every inch of your body screamed for relief. 

If this was death, then you were in hell. 

"Think again, cunt."

The distinct cockney accent had your spine straightening and your eyes snapping open. 

The gun clattered beside your head, unfired. 

You weren't dead. 

"Sunshine!"

You were being saved. 

"Talk to me, Sunshine!" 

The voice was so far away, he was too far away, he wasn't going to make it. You weren't going to make it. The man on the floor next to you must have sat back up because you could feel his hands gripping your shoulders, the gun rattling in your ears. 

Fingers gripped your face, jostling you from your semi-conscious state. Your vision was blurred by your own blood and tears, the figure before you a mess of shadows. You screamed, trying to pull your broken arms from beneath the chair to defend yourself until help got to you. 

Searing hot pain ran up the lengths of your arms and stabbed into your neck. You gagged, a low bellow wrenching from your throat as you heaved. 

"Stop! Stop! Don't move!" 

"Get away from me!" You wailed, voice shrill and unhinged. You tugged again and this time his hands came down on your shoulders. 

"SUNSHINE!"

The roar of your name made your entire body freeze, clutching you by the throat with the desperation behind the callsign. You closed your eyes, a whimper falling from your lips to taint your dignity. 

"Jesus." He sounded like Ghost. It couldn't have been him but, God, you wished it was. "Come on, Sweetheart. Look at me." 

"I can't see," you wept. 

His thumbs swept over your face, gloves wiping the blood from where it had settled on your lids and lashes. You tried again, blinking the crimson liquid from your eyes as best you could. You imagined that you looked a sight, the whites of your eyes a deep red, stained with evidence of your injuries. Finally, your vision settled. 

Simon stared back at you, eyes wide. 

You gasped. 

"Simon?" You slurred, his name broken on your lips. 

"Yeah, Sunshine. S'me." He murmured distractedly. His fingers were twitching on your neck, scanning the rest of your body for injuries.

Your heart was beating against your ribs, sudden anxiety flooding your being.  If he was here it meant that they'd brought the package to you rather than to Birdy. 

That meant… 

"No, no, no," you whispered as the Lieutenant lifted the chair with one hand, pulling your broken hands from behind your back. "No, no, Simon, what're you doing here?" 

Ghost recoiled slightly, a frown overtaking his features. "The fuck do you mean?" 

"Birdy," you rasped, a sob building in your chest. "You need to get Birdy. What about Birdy?" 

"Birdy's-" 

You fought to stand up, pushing him out of the way as you stumbled to your feet. Your body swayed side to side as your vision swam, but you weren't going down- not again. 

"Need a gat. Need Birdy- we can't lose Birdy. Everybody needs Birdy-" 

"Sunshine." 

"I can't lose Birdy!" You snapped, reeling on your superior with a broken gaze. 

For a moment, he stood frozen, speechless. You'd never recover if they killed the other sniper, no one would. Everyone would blame you, it'd be your fault.

"König's got Birdy," Ghost said slowly, straightening to stand to his full height. "I've got you, Sunshine."

You gawked at him as though you hadn't understood a single word he'd said. Realistically, you truly hadn't. They'd come for you, knowing that it would put everyone at risk. 

Simon had come for you, leaving Birdy to a man that he hated with every ounce of his being. 

Simon had come for you, not Birdy. 

"You're here?" You whispered and although it sounded fucking stupid, Ghost only nodded. He knew what you were really asking. 

"Of course," he said. "Of course, I am."

"You came for me?" Your voice broke.

The soldier shuffled on his feet, shaking his head as though he thought it was obvious. 

"I'd follow you anywhere. We both know it," he huffed, that dark gaze pinning your soul to your chest. 

You rocked forward at the words, knees buckling from beneath you. Simon shot forward instantly, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you upward. His hand came to grip your chin, fingers slapping your cheek lightly as your eyes rolled backward. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. Stay with it, it's nothin',"  he growled, jostling your body to keep you conscious. Your head fell forward to rest against his shoulder, ears ringing and your mind shattered. "Sunshine, stay awake for me."

You couldn't any longer, you couldn't listen to him. He should have been used to it by now, you'd always been the troublesome one for him. Never directly disobeying him but never doing it the way he asked, always driving him bat-shit fucking crazy- always under his skin. 

But, if Simon couldn't save you, you'd die happy knowing that he'd even tried. 

You'd die happy knowing that somebody loved you. 

—

When you thought of dying, you always had such a visceral image of what would happen. You'd be the last one on your line, and the rest of your unit would be shot down; you'd make a stand on a hill and wipe out the enemy until you were out of ammo. Then, you would fight until you were overwhelmed. 

That was the death you'd imagined. 

Not abandoned and left alone in a warehouse in a sick game of "pick the sniper you like more." 

"They'll fully recover physically," someone sighed from above your head. "Mentally, though…" 

"They'll be right," Simon finished. 

"That's what they said about Birdy," the doctor muttered. "We all know how that ended." 

"Doc-" 

"Saint."

Simon cleared his throat. 

"Saint," the callsign foreign on his tongue, "Sunshine's not Birdy."

To hear it from Simon Riley himself was all the validation you needed. 

You stirred in the bed and immediately all conversation fell quiet, the both of them waiting for you to fully awaken. 

You knew you were in the hospital before your eyes opened. You recognised the doctor who was talking, a medic who had yelled at you often for ‘being reckless.’ The smell of antiseptic was near seared into your memory and the sound of the monitor beeping was too familiar. 

However, the room was brighter than you’d anticipated and you cringed into your pillow with a moan. The overhead light stung your eyes, searing your retinas and making it near impossible for you to think. 

“Get the lights,” Saint ordered, realizing what the issue was. 

The room fell dim, enough for you to finally pry your lids open and have a look around. Your jaw felt heavy like there was cotton in your mouth. As you probed with your tongue, you realised with a pitted stomach that there actually was something stuffed between your teeth. 

You moaned, reaching upward to pull it out. 

It was as though you’d set off a bomb with the movement. Both Simon and Saint immediately shot forward, hands on your arms to rest them by your side gently. They stood on either side of your bed, like two sentries, one dark and one light. 

“Gonna need you to just relax a second for me, spitfire,” Saint chuckled. 

You huffed, fighting the urge to gag on the material in your mouth. Your tongue ran over it, moving to dislodge it from where it had been wedged between your teeth. 

“Now,” the doctor leaned over to adjust your drip. “Do you remember your name and what happened?” 

Rather than respond, you opted to slowly let the gauze fall out of your mouth and onto your chest. Saint watched you with a deadpan expression as you fought with your facial injuries to perform this feat. 

At the end of it, you offered a weak smile. 

A long moment of silence ensued before the doctor sighed, staring at the lumps of bloody fabric sitting on the gown. 

“I’m gonna go grab some shit,” they said. “Maybe a fuckin’ whiskey.” 

They disappeared from the room swiftly, leaving you alone with the Grim Reaper himself. With a harsh sigh through his nose, the Lieutenant reached over and scooped up the gauze, dropping them into the bin. 

“You couldn’t just answer the question?” He muttered, moving to crouch by your head. He wore only his balaclava, his hoodie down for once. 

“Not with that in my mouth,” you rasped, words thick and sickly. 

Simon snorted softly but he said nothing, opting to watch you instead. His gaze ran from your hair to your neck, over and over as if he were committing you to memory. His expression was gentle but there was something hidden that made you think that, at that moment, he was extremely vulnerable. 

Anything you said from this point on would determine the relationship between you both. You remembered what he’d confessed when he found you beaten and bloody on the floor. It was clear as day and imprinted on your brain as though it had been branded on the inside of your skull. 

“I would follow you anywhere. We both know it.” 

You’d both reached the point of no return, no more smoke and mirrors, no more half-truths. Neither of you could get away with hiding your feelings behind hatred anymore. 

Not after he’d chosen you. 

“You came for me,” you whispered. A statement, not a question this time.

“Of course,” he said again, just as he had before. 

You hadn’t realised you were crying until his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks ever so gently. As much as you hated it, as much as you wanted to stop, you couldn’t hold them back. 

The relief was palpable, the understanding that you were valued was freeing. 

Simon Riley knew the kind of person you were, right at your very core, and he still chose to love you. He still chose to hold your hand and dry your tears with nothing but pure reverence in his gaze. 

You realized then and there, that you were valued.

You were enough.

[90sbee]

Dying is not an option (when you're by my side)

Leon S. Kennedy x Gn!reader

1k words. Also on a03

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying.

When his mind seems to get too clouded by the visions of monsters, you pull him out of the depths of his trauma. He does his best to love you. He tries.

Or the fic in which you make Leon repeat comforting phrases so it finally gets in his head that he is loved.

Just a very soft idea that wouldn't leave my head and that's been too long in the wip folder. The warnings make it seem worse than it is, but happy ending I promise!!! Had re4r in mind for this one but can be read with other older versions of him. (Though the older the Leon, the angstier it gets lmao)

Content: No use of y/n, very very soft love, hurt/comfort, some angst, established relationship, living together, sitting on his lap, a tiny bit of possessive Leon (yay!)

Warnings: +18 ONLY. No smut but some suggestive lines. Mentions of blood, suicide, guns and overall (some brief) gore. Leon's mental struggles (depression, anxiety). I'm not a native English speaker but I (lazily) proofread and edited this one.

You lean forward, just a little closer to his body. Leon groans, his face unreadable still.

“Don’t want to,” he muses, kind of annoyed at your proposal.

“Just trust me.”

He reluctantly nods, as you get comfortable on his lap. His firm thighs under you, the warmest and comfiest seat you could ever ask for.

You worry about him, worry so much.

You know now: know what he does, what he works as. At first it was hard to believe it, the stories about human turned monsters, about creatures that linger between heaven and hell. But you had to believe him, you were forced to the first time Leon crumbled down in your arms, sobbing the entirety of the night, the immensity of his body reduced to shivering and tears.

“I love you,” you had told him that time. “I’m not letting you go. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

You whisper the same things again now, your voice reverberating close to his ear. Leon eases the grip on your hips, replaces it with a soft touch. He tries to calm down, closes his eyes for a moment too long.

“You love me,” he seems to ask, as if trying to convince himself of it, as if trying to find himself worthy of such a feeling from someone like you.

“I do,” you confirm, cupping his cheeks.

He nods, though his heart is thumping in his chest still. Your hands move to his shoulders, then to his arms, caressing the skin with soft strokes.

“I love you… Look at me.”

He obliges, eyes like the ocean, marked by the heavy and dark eyebags.

It breaks your heart to see him like this. Your lip trembles as you lean closer, shortening the distance.

It is entirely possible —as you’re so much aware of— that one day you’ll come home to an unlocked gun and his body in the bathtub. Or maybe it would be the rifle, the carpet stained with blood and pieces of what used to be his jaw.

A jaw that you love so much, that you kiss now.

Leon sighs, seems content with such affection, his hands getting lost down your thighs.

“Listen to me. You’re gonna repeat as I say, okay?” an attempt to get him out of his head, to remind him of who he is.

“ …‘Kay,” he mumbles, seemingly distracted.

“I’m… good.”

He scrunches his nose, pinkish lips downturned. Naturally, he doesn’t dare to say those words. He doesn’t want to trick his brain.

“C’mon,” you egg him, patting his shoulder gently.

The action seems to at least make his lips curve slightly.

“I’m good,” he whispers, his voice insecure.

He tries. You can see how hard he does it: coming home as much possible, the dirty laundry now clean and with a soft cinnamon scent. A sunflower in the kitchen vase next to the window, the coffee mug always clean even when you leave it in the sink, ready to be washed in the morning.

“I’m a good partner,” you resume, reminiscing.

That does stops him in his tracks, a gentle blush rooting on his cheeks, the smile more pronounced now. Leon presses his face against your neck.

“… Do I really have to say it?”

“Yep.”

He breathes on your neck, as if trying to take in a bit of your kindness, a bit of your peace. He closes his eyes, tries to control his breathing. But his hands grip your hips harder.

He fucking loves you.

Leon is not sure he deserves this yet, the warm body on the bed, the pretty smile that kisses him goodbye, lets him go away even in the middle of the night.

“I love you,” he backtracks, pressing a kiss on your neck.

You chuckle, and allow him that admission.

“Very cute but that’s not what you had to repeat.”

Leon raises his eyebrows, feigning annoyance. He keeps his fingers on your hips, dancing on your skin, drawing patterns as he keeps you close. He wishes he could sign his name there, mark you forever so you’d never get too far away from him… So he’d always have a right to come back to you.

“But I love you…” he pouts.

You grab his face with utmost care, force his cheeks to look upwards at your face.

“I love you too. Lots.”

You kiss his forehead. His body melts under that touch.

“ ‘m a good partner” he mumbles, quickly.

“My baby loves me.”

Now Leon chuckles.

“My baby loves me,” he hides again on your neck, his smile etched constantly on his face now. You hug him closer, kiss his forehead once more, as if sheltering a lost angel in your arms.

“I’ll always have a home.”

Oh, that one seems to break him a little. Leon immediately whines, his hands gripping your body with ferocity against his. He can’t say… He shouldn’t. He… he can’t and…

His heart starts beating faster and he gulps.

“You can do it…” you encourage him and he wants to try. He knows, deep inside, that is true and that he is now safe. It takes him several minutes until his anxiety dissipates and he can look up at you, your eyes encapsulating warmth that he had never experienced with anyone else.

Soft fingers caress his lips, keep his body warm, his belly full and his back massaged.

“I’ll always have a home,” Leon finally manages to get out, a complete sentence, voice without hesitation.

He closes his eyes, kisses the skin of your shoulder.

Hell, he is trying. It is seen not only in how much he makes time for you, but also in the way he follows along with your little silly ideas, suggestions to try to build himself up again.

And though he wouldn’t directly admit it, since you two are together he has promised himself to fight his hardest in every mission. He spits his own blood, wipes off the exhaustion from his face and keeps pushing forward. Because, he’ll be damned, he wants to see you once more. And once more. And again and again… And when he comes home, to you, Leon immediately checks —for the tenth time— the safety on each gun and leaves them in locked boxes, his fingers slowly forgetting what it’s like to toy with weapons in the sanctuary that you’ve built for the two of you. The cold of the metal is now replaced by the warmth between your thighs, the flesh on your hips, the softness of your hands.

Hell, he is definitely trying.

And it’s fucking working.

God to be on his lap honestly!!! A dream. And if you've made it to the end, thank you!! Mwah, sweet soul 💙

[milliesfishes]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 (𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷'𝓽)𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭 request by my muse <3 @kayleigh--23

There was no doubt whatsoever about Billy's loyalty.

He was never the type of man to take what he had for granted, especially the people in his life. No, instead of letting go, Billy clung to his loved ones. He kept them close.

He'd confessed to you one lazy night under the stars when you were snuggled up to him under the jacket of his he'd laid over the two of you. He'd confessed that he never knew when he was going to lose someone next, and so while he had someone he held on tight.

You'd never had a problem feeling loved by him. He showed you through his time, his body, his words.

"Don't have much in the world darlin'," he whispered to you one morning as you watched the sunrise together. His jacket was back around your shoulders, swarthing your frame and keeping you warm. His hands framed your face. "But everythin' I have is yours."

He'd leave you little notes at your spot by the oak tree when he didn't have enough time to spend an evening with you. Sweet words scrawled in his careful handwriting. You kept them in a box under your bed along with other little missives you'd collected from him. A handkerchief he'd worn around his neck, the silver necklace with a heart on the chain he'd given you, dried flowers he'd picked that you'd pressed in your books.

You collected every bit of him you could, keeping a stilled, built version of Billy to yourself to hold while he was gone until he would reappear and warm it up again.

Never before had you had something that was wholly, utterly yours. He worked hard for you, toiling away under the sun for hours and coming to you sunkissed and utterly happy. You'd trace a finger along the freckles he gained during the day and kiss their path too. La-la-love.

Billy was employed currently by a man you'd met not but once, at a party that was said to be one of many he threw during the year. Ever the dutiful partner, Billy had brought you over, making sure you knew how pretty you looked and keeping a safe arm around you. It'd been loud, drunken, and not exactly your scene. But you loved spending time with him.

So the next party, you donned something pretty and arrived on his arm, determined to make the most of the night.

It all started out normal. You stayed under Billy's arm, smiling and laughing with his friends as he spoke with them. He would check in with you every now and then, kissing your temple.

The trouble began when Major Murphy came over to Billy, whispering something you couldn't hear to him. Billy frowned, shaking his head, but Murphy just gave him a look as he walked away.

You turned to Billy. "What's wrong?"

His jaw was clenched. "Nothin' baby, I just..." he looked over at something in the distance. "Just gotta do somethin'. C'mon."

He guided you to an area where a small crowd had gathered, leaving you at the front of it. It was a sort of open area, and you could see a setup with bottles on a fence and hanging from the rafters. Billy was at a table not too far from you, picking up a gun.

Immediately you realized what was happening. Your eyes widened.

To his credit, Billy put on a good show. He hit every target with ease, and you held your breath, able to feel his frustration from where you were.

The other partygoers cheered, and you cringed. This wasn't going to end well.

When he was finished, the shed was on fire and he was stalking away, pushing through the crowd. You tried to get to him, but it was futile, the barrage of people blocking your way to him.

You knew this was exactly what Billy didn't want- being treated as an act, a mere entertainment. Of course everyone wanted a piece of 'Billy the Kid'. But you knew better.

The Billy you knew didn't want to be an outlaw, but he'd adapted to the tough situations life had thrown him in. Your Billy was trying to escape the persona wanted posters pushed on him. Your Billy was rough around the edges but softened in the center, tracing hearts on your face after kissing you so sweet your head spun.

But that was the thing about that Billy being yours. Only you saw him.

You made your way through the crush of people, trying to spot him through everyone. Finally, you were ejected from the masses, and you looked around the room.

Relief brightened you as you saw him leaning against the wall, speaking to Mr. Riley's wife. You smiled, making your way over to him, knowing the woman was telling him how well he did, unknowingly adding to his guilt. It wasn't her fault, he was-

Kissing her.

And he wasn't pushing her away. After what felt like forever, he put his hands on her waist and they stopped. You turned away, tears stinging your eyes, heart rattling your ribs. The image was burnt into your eyes, and as you rushed away you couldn't shake it off.

Everything was a blur. You pushed past anyone in your way until the cool of the night air hit your face, reviving your senses. Your hands found the wall of the house, and you took great, heaving breaths as you tried to make sense of it.

Mr. Riley's wife was very beautiful. You bit your lip and tried not to cry as you thought about it. She was always dressed up so pretty in silks and satins that you wouldn't dare wear even though you could afford them. Ranch work was too messy for that.

You wondered if Billy was even looking for you. Likely not. He was preoccupied.

It was unclear how long you were out there before you heard your name being called. It was him. Of course it was him. He'd finally remembered you.

You stayed pressed against the wall, hoping he wouldn't see you but he did. "Baby," he greeted, smiling at you. "Where'd ya go off to? Been lookin'-"

Noticing your sad eyes, he cut himself off, frowning and tilting his head. "Whatsa matter darlin'?"

Breathing in once, you just looked up at him, and something went stiff in his eyes. He watched you for a moment, and you lifted your chin, looking up at him. "I saw you."

Instantly he recognized what you were talking about and he exhaled once through his nose, nodding and pursing his lips. "I see."

Your eyes filled with tears again, and this time you let one fall, looking up at him with such betrayal in your eyes that his lips parted. "Mrs. Riley..."

"Can I explain?" he asked gently, looking into your eyes. You didn't want to hear any kind of explanation, but he looked so sincere and you loved him so much that you nodded.

Billy hesitantly lifted his hand, silently asking permission before he touched your face. He held your chin with his fingers, making sure you were looking right at him when he said it. He took off his hat too so you could see his face.

"She was tellin' me she liked the show," he started, making sure you were still looking at him. "Still with me?" Billy waited until you nodded before continuing. "And mind ya, she's been drinkin'. Started tellin' me stuff 'bout her husband. Seems they ain't gettin' on. 'nd she kissed me. I didn't react as quickly as I'd 've liked."

You could see the sincerity in his eyes but you still wanted to cry. "You had your hands on her waist."

"Pushin' her away gently," he said, and you knew he was telling the truth. "She was drunk, didn't wanna upset her and cause a big scene."

What he was saying made sense, and you nodded, but the emotions were still festering in you. You sniffled, looking down and he nodded, seeming to understand. "Alright...alright, c'mere angel." Billy pulled you into his arms and let you sniffle into his shirt. "Yeah I know. Musta been hard for ya to see sweetheart, 'm sorry." He ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair. "I know if I saw ya kissin' another man I'd 'bout lose my mind...I'm so sorry baby."

You wrapped your arms around him, and he did the same, his hat still in his hand as he rubbed your back. "Could ya ever forgive me, sweet?"

Pulling back a little and looking up at him, you could see the pure want to be back in your good graces in his eyes. It melted you- he adored you so and you loved him back, more than anything, too much to let something silly that wasn't even his fault ruin it.

You nodded, and his arms twined around your waist, his hat in hand hitting your backside as he lifted you up and hugged you close.

As he held you tight he mumbled, "Maybe no more parties," into your hair and you nodded. Billy kissed the top of your head, then the side, burying his nose in your neck. "Politeness be damned, I want you more than I want to show off. Want you a whole hell of a lot more."

come talk about billy here!

[gyutopia]

world of sinners iii | sim jaeyun

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your parents are the head of one of the nation’s most lucrative syndicates and your older brother is heir to the throne which leaves you free to leave this world of evil behind. you’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years of your life, you can practically taste the freedom. what will you do, however, when your parents arrange a marriage for you to bind together their empire with the lee’s to stop a full on gang war?

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sim jaeyun x f!reader ft lee heesung

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 8.4k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dark themes, mentions of drugs, mentions of violence, vulgar language, mentions of death, forced marriage, corruption, possessiveness, mentions of guns, attempted murder, talk of murder.

| masterlist | previous | next |

Three weeks have passed since your wedding to Jake, a union formed not out of love but necessity. The initial awkwardness between you two has subsided somewhat, replaced by a tentative friendship. Jake is often off at work, leaving you at home to explore the enormous house or hide away in your art studio. You’ve found a surprising new muse in Jake, and the past few weeks have seen you hardly putting down your paintbrush.

It’s a peaceful morning, and the sun filters softly through the curtains. You’re lost in the tranquility of your surroundings when Rose enters your room.

“Good morning, madam,” she says, her tone professional yet warm. “Your in-laws have requested your and Mr. Jaeyun’s presence for brunch today. Shall I help you prepare?”

A sense of dread settles in your stomach. Brunch with Jake’s family sounds taxing. Nevertheless, you comply. “Thank you, Rose.”

She nods and moves further into your room, showcasing a burgundy dress that matches Jake’s family color slung over her shoulder. “This will be perfect for today. Mr. Sim chose it for you.”

You thank her before heading to the bathroom for a refreshing shower. The warm water helps wake you up, and as you step out, you find your bed made and the dress neatly laid out. Once dressed, you admire the elegant fit before heading downstairs.

Jake is already ready, dressed in a suit with the first few buttons of his shirt undone and his hair slicked back. He looks up and smiles warmly at you, stepping closer to kiss your forehead and reach for your hand. “Good morning.”

He greets you warmly, the gesture catches you off guard. While the hostility between you has diminished, affection has not been a part of your relationship. Jake notices your confusion and offers an explanation.

“It’s just for the sake of appearances,” he says softly. “I don’t want my parents to pick up on any tension between us. It’s better if we start acting affectionate at home before we arrive.”

You nod, understanding his reasoning. Jake senses your unease and squeezes your hand gently. “Don’t worry. I know my family can be a bit much, but I’ll be right there with you.”

As you both prepare to leave, Jake explains, “They probably want to see how we’re functioning as a unit now. My father is keen on assessing how well we’re adjusting.”

You nod in understanding. “Do you think they’re happy with the arrangement?”

Jake looks thoughtful for a moment. “My father is satisfied as long as the business runs smoothly. My stepmother, on the other hand... well, she has her own opinions, as I’m sure you’ve seen.”

You chuckle lightly. “Kind of hard to miss.”

As you both get into the car, Jake starts the engine and glances at you. “How have you been feeling about everything?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s been an adjustment, like you said. But I think we’re handling it well. I’ve found a lot of peace in painting.”

Jake smiles. “I’d love to see your work sometime. I’m sure it’s incredible.”

You blush slightly, the majority of your work nowadays all contain some essence of Jake. You’re quick to brush off the compliment. “It’s nothing special. Just a hobby to pass the time.”

Jake frowns slightly, not buying your modesty. “I’m sure it’s more than just that. When we get back home, I’ll join you in the studio to take a look.”

You nod, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. “Alright. If you insist.”

The beginning of the drive to his family’s house is quiet at first, both of you lost in your thoughts. Eventually, Jake breaks the silence.

“It’s important to them that we present a strong front.” He says, glancing at you

You nod, understanding the importance of this brunch. “I’ll do my best. It’s just... a lot of pressure.”

Jake reaches over and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know. But we’re a team now, remember?”

You smile, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah, a team.”

The rest of the drive is filled with small talk, Jake making an effort to keep you relaxed. When you arrive, the grandeur of the house matches that of your own, with perfectly manicured lawns and vibrant flowers.

Jake parks the car and helps you out, his arm protectively around your waist as you walk inside. As you begin walking, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the upcoming brunch.

The foyer is grand, with a sweeping staircase and chandeliers that catch the morning light. Jake's stepmother and father are already waiting in the sitting room.

“Jaeyun, my boy,” his father greets, his tone commanding yet warm. “It’s good to see you.”

“Father,” Jake replies with a nod. “Mother.”

Yerin gives you a once over, her eyes raking over your appearance. “I see you’ve managed to dress appropriately today.”

Before you can respond, Jake’s father intervenes. “Enough, dear,” he says sternly, his tone brooking no argument. “Let’s not start with criticism.”

Yerin purses her lips but remains silent. Jake’s father turns his attention back to you and Jake, his gaze more appraising. “How have you two been?”

Jake speaks up first, his tone steady. “We’re managing well, Father. We’re taking things one step at a time.”

You nod in agreement, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. “It’s been an adjustment, but we’re finding our rhythm.”

Jake’s father nods thoughtfully. “That’s good to hear, especially in times like these.”

Yerin, not entirely satisfied with the direction of the conversation, pipes up again. “And what about your duties as a wife? Are you keeping up with everything?”

You feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck, you haven’t left the house since Jake’s last meeting. You know you’ll have to pick up the slack soon but you’ve been enjoying the peace of being at home away from all the bustling business deals. “I’m doing my best, Mother. There’s a lot to learn, but I’m committed.”

Jake squeezes your hand gently, offering silent support. “She’s been doing great,” he adds. “Happy to have her by my side.”

Jake’s father seems to approve of Jake’s response. “That’s good.” He turns to face his wife and places a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you take ____ to look at the garden? Jaeyun and I will join you once Heeseung arrives. It’ll give us a chance to catch up and discuss some business matters.”

You hesitate, not wanting to be alone with Jake’s mother. Sensing your unease, Jake leans in and kisses your forehead gently. “It’s alright. Go ahead.”

You nod, feeling reassured by his gesture. “Okay.”

Yerin gestures for you to follow her and begins walking away. “Come along, dear. Let’s make sure everything is in order for brunch.”

As you walk away, you glance back at Jake one last time. He gives you a small, reassuring smile before turning to face his father.

You follow Yerin through the lavish mansion, trying to calm the nerves fluttering in your stomach. As you step into the garden, you’re greeted by the sight of meticulously maintained flower beds and elegant topiaries. The tranquility of the garden provides a stark contrast to the tension inside.

Yerin turns to you, her demeanor still hard and guarded. “The garden is a reflection of our family’s legacy. It requires constant care and attention, much like the relationships within the family.”

You nod, understanding the metaphor she’s drawing. “It’s beautiful. You must put a lot of work into it.”

Yerin’s lips curve into a small smirk. “We do. It’s a labor of love. Just like marriage.”

The two of you continue to walk, Yerin spares you a glance before asking, “Any plans for children soon? It’s important for the family to have heirs.”

Her question catches you off guard, and you feel heat creeping up your neck. Despite the growing camaraderie, your relationship with Jake has remained strictly platonic. You can't help but wonder if Jake even sees you in a sexual way. His kindness and support are undeniable, but there’s a distance between you that makes you question your sex appeal.

Yerin’s gaze is piercing, and you scramble to find a suitable answer. “We haven’t really discussed it in depth,” you say, choosing your words carefully. “There’s still so much we’re getting used to, and with Jake’s responsibilities, it hasn’t been a priority.”

Yerin’s lips press into a thin line. “Responsibilities are one thing, but ensuring the continuation of our family’s legacy is paramount. You need to prioritize that.”

You nod, trying to hide your discomfort. “Of course, mother. We understand the importance.”

She stops walking and turns to face you fully, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Marriage isn’t just about companionship. It’s about duty and preserving what generations before you have built. Don’t lose sight of that.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on you. “I understand.”

Her gaze softens slightly, but her tone remains firm. “Good. It’s also crucial to show a united front. People are watching, always. They need to see that you and Jaeyun are strong together.”

As she speaks, you can’t help but think about the unspoken divide between you and Jake. How can you present a united front when you’re not even sharing the same space? The irony isn’t lost on you, and you wonder if Jake feels the same pressure.

“I know,” you reply quietly. “We’re working on it.”

Yerin gives a small nod, her expression still scrutinizing. “See that you do. The last thing we need is any sign of weakness.”

Embarrassed, you nod, “Yes, mother…”

The conversation leaves you feeling unsettled and overwhelmed. As you continue to set the table, you find yourself lost in thought. The expectations of this marriage are heavy, while Jake has proven himself to not be all that bad, his family has become a major source of stress.

As you finish setting the table, Jake and his father join you. The conversation is stilted, filled with polite but strained exchanges. Jake’s father, with a faux smile, breaks the silence.

“So, how do you two find living together?” Jaehee asks, his eyes piercing into yours.

“We’re managing well, Abeonim,” Jake replies calmly. “It’s new and different, but we’re working through it together.”

Yerin sniffs delicately, her gaze critical as she looks you over. “And how is the house? Are you finding everything to your liking?”

“It’s beautiful,” you respond politely. “I’ve enjoyed exploring and getting to know the place.”

Yerin raises an eyebrow. “And what about the prospect of children? I assume you both have discussed it?”

The question catches you off guard, you can see the evil glint in Yerin’s eyes as she waits for Jake’s response. Having already heard your side you know she expects Jake to fumble in front of his father. You glance at Jake, trying to subtly shake your head but he only squeezes your hand under the table.

“We haven’t really had time to think about that yet,” Jake answers smoothly. “We’re still getting to know each other and settling into our roles.”

Jaehee leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “Marriage is not just about partnership but also about legacy. It’s important to think about the future.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach at the familiarity of the words. “We understand that,” you say quietly. “We’re just taking things slow.”

The room falls silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Yerin’s lips thin into a disapproving line, but Jaehee nods slowly.

“I see,” he says finally. “It’s good to take your time and build a strong foundation. But don’t forget the importance of continuing the family line.”

You stiffly nod, feeling as if you might explode if you hear one more mention of your womb and the expectations of a baby, a baby you don’t think will ever exist. You can’t imagine Jake making a move to ever bed you. You wonder if he’ll find another woman just as his father did, if he’ll fall in love with her and give his father an heir that way. He may be kind to you and has shown that for now the two of you are a team but at the end of the day he’s still the son of Lee Jaehee and heir to the most powerful mafia in all of Asia, you can’t imagine him never having a child.

Jaehee’s eyes narrow slightly. "If you don’t mind me asking, why the delay? The sooner you start, the better. An heir is crucial."

You hesitate, but before you can speak, Yerin interjects, "I've heard some rumors that you two aren't even sharing a bed."

Her comment hangs in the air, heavy and accusatory. Jake’s father’s gaze sharpens. "Is this true, Jaeyun?"

You feel a lick of ice run through your veins- not only do you feel violated by the fact that Yerin seemingly has spies planted in your home, reporting back to her but you also feel angry at the fact that your own staff, staff that you have treated sincerely from the start, has been trading your secrets to your mother-in-law who clearly has a dislike for you.

Jake takes a deep breath, but you decide to address the elephant in the room. "It’s true. We haven’t consummated our marriage yet."

The silence that follows your admission is deafening. Yerin looks smug, while Jaehee's face turns red with anger.

"That is unacceptable," Jaehee says, his voice low and dangerous. "An heir is not just a formality; it's a necessity for the stability of our empire."

Jake, sensing the need to de-escalate the situation, squeezes your hand. "We understand the importance, Father. We just needed some time to adjust. We’ll handle it."

Yerin, not wanting to let go of the topic, presses further. "If it’s taking this long, perhaps a honeymoon is in order. Sometimes a change of scenery can work wonders."

You feel your patience wearing thin but manage to maintain your composure. "Thank you for the suggestion. We'll consider it."

Jaehee waves his hand dismissively. "I’ll arrange it. You two will leave by the end of the month. I expect results."

Before either of you can respond, Heeseung strolls in, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His father scowls at him. “You’re late.”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, ignoring his father’s glare. “It’s called being fashionably late.”

His mother fusses over him, but he brushes her off, taking a seat and grabbing a mimosa. “He was probably with one of his whores,” his father mutters, the disdain clear in his voice after hearing his wife ask about his whereabouts.

Heeseung scoffs. “Why pretend? Everyone knows the real reason we’re here—to see how the happy couple is doing.”

His comment cuts through the fragile peace, and his father’s eyes narrow. “That’s enough Heeseung.”

Heeseung, however, isn’t done. He leans forward, a sly grin on his face. “So, Jaeyunie, how’s married life treating you? Is the pussy any good? I heard that being tied down to the same bi-”

Jake shoots him a warning look. “Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you myself.”

Heeseung chuckles. “Who’s the pussy whipped one now?”

Jaehee interrupts, his tone firm. “Enough, Heeseung. We’re here to enjoy a family meal, not to bicker.”

Heeseung shrugs, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Just making conversation.”

Jaehee sighs, rubbing his temples. “Jaeyun, take your wife and show her around the house, I need to have a word with your brother.” Jake stands, helping you up from your chair.

Once inside, the tension eases slightly. Jake glances at you, a small smile on his lips. “Where would you like to go?”

You think for a moment before responding. “How about your bedroom? I’d like to see what you were like growing up.”

Jake looks surprised but nods. “Uh, alright. Let’s go.”

As you walk through the house, you notice the ornate decorations and family portraits lining the walls. When you reach Jake’s old room, he opens the door and gestures for you to enter.

When you enter his childhood room, the space is surprisingly empty, devoid of personal items. No posters, no decorations—just a king-sized bed and a desk with a single picture frame.

You glance at Jake, puzzled. He sees your questioning look and explains, “I didn’t want to live with my father. I grew up with my mother until I was six and was forced to move in here. My father couldn’t deal with my anger issues though and shipped me off to a boarding school in Australia after a year, I was rarely home until Uni.”

You nod at the new information, guess that explains the thick Aussie accent you picked up on when you first met. “Anger issues?”

Jake nods, “it’s gotten better over the years, moving in with my father was just a huge adjustment. No need to worry about me ever losing my temper with you.”

You nod and walk around the room, trying to imagine Jake in this space. “It’s hard to believe this is where you called home.”

No reply comes and you walk up to the desk and examine it. You pick up the picture frame, studying the image of a pregnant woman. “Is this your mother?”

Jake nods, a soft smile on his lips, though you can see the pain in his eyes. “Yes.”

You did your fair share of research on Jake once your father had made it clear that this marriage wasn’t something you’d be escaping but you found it incredibly hard to find any information on the male. It was almost like Jake was a ghost up until his father made the announcement of him taking over.

You had Anton run multiple background checks to see if he could find anything but all he had to offer was the announcement Veridian made about Jake’s birth and how the rumors of him being the son of an affair were true.

Aside from that, the only public information about Jake is that he attended a prestigious international boarding school in Australia, graduated from Seoul National University Suma Kum Laude and that he’s now married to you. Nobody knows who his mother is or much about his childhood.

His father faced backlash from the Korean public once news of the affair was made known, you heard from your father that keeping Jake hidden was a PR move to clean up the image of Veridian. It seems that’s another thing you and Jake have in common, fathers who prioritize their businesses before their own children.

You hesitate before asking the next question. “Where is she?”

Jake’s expression hardens. “She’s dead.”

You’re ready to apologize, but Jake continues. “My stepmother hated that my father had an affair with my mom. She wanted both of us dead, but when my dad found out I’d be a boy, he hid my mother away until she gave birth. She ran away to protect us, but my father found her when I was six and had her killed to make his wife happy.”

You step closer, instinctively wanting to comfort him. You bring him into a hug, and he holds you tightly. When you pull away, you’re still close, your faces inches apart. Jake’s eyes drop to your lips, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours.

Just as your lips are about to meet, the door opens, and a maid enters “Your father is waiting for you to continue the brunch.”

The moment is shattered and you pull back, flustered. Jake sighs and nods. “Thank you, we’ll be right there.”

He releases you gently from the hug, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment longer than usual. He clears his throat, breaking the silence. “We should get back to brunch before my father gets more impatient.”

You nod, feeling the tension from the almost kiss still hanging in the air. “Yeah, we should.”

Jake leads you out of the room, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walk down the hallway. The silence between you is palpable, each step echoing your unspoken thoughts. When you reach the top of the staircase, you hear the television in the living room, its volume turned up.

As you begin to descend the stairs, a news anchor’s voice catches your attention. “Breaking news: The chief of police has officially been declared missing. Authorities are seeking any information regarding his last known whereabouts…”

You stop in your tracks, your breath hitching. Jake notices your sudden pause and turns to look at you, concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow hard, your mind racing. You remember seeing Sungchan with the chief a few weeks ago, engaged in a heated exchange. Could your brother be involved in this? Your mind also goes back to your own meeting with the chief just before the wedding, when you handed over his monthly bribe money and discussed business. If he was truly missing, this could ruin you.

Jake’s voice pulls you back to the present. “Hey, are you okay?”

You force a smile, trying to mask your anxiety. “Uh, yeah. I just…umm I recognize the chief from some old business deals.”

Jake’s eyes narrow slightly, not fully convinced but not pressing the issue. “Do you want me to make some calls? See if any of my men know something?”

You nod, grateful for his support. “Yes, please. That would help.”

Jake takes out his phone and steps aside to make a call. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. When Jake returns, he gives you a reassuring nod. “I have someone looking into it now. We should go back to the garden and wrap up brunch.”

You both continue down the stairs, the weight of the news still heavy on your mind. When you reach the garden, you notice that Heeseung is no longer there. Jake’s father and stepmother are engaged in conversation, but they pause as you approach.

“Where’s Heeseung?” Jake asks, looking around.

“He had to leave,” Jaehee replies, his tone dismissive. “Something about an urgent matter.”

You exchange a glance with Jake, the timing of Heeseung’s departure striking both of you as odd. However, neither of you voice your suspicions. Instead, you take your seats, and the conversation resumes, albeit with a lingering tension.

Suddenly, Jaehee's phone rings. He glances at the screen and frowns before answering.

"Yes?"

You and Jake exchange a look, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Jaehee's expression darkens as he listens to the caller, his jaw tightening. "What do you mean he's missing?" His voice is low but laced with agitation. "How long has it been?"

There's a pause as the person on the other end responds. Jaehee's fingers drum impatiently on the table. "And you're sure there's no trace of him? This is a disaster."

Another pause, and Jaehee's eyes narrow.

"Find out who's responsible. We can't afford any loose ends."

He ends the call abruptly and pockets his phone, his expression stormy. Jake leans forward, his concern evident. "What was that about, Father?"

Jaehee sighs, rubbing his temples. "The chief of police has been declared missing. This isn't just bad—it's potentially catastrophic."

Your heart skips a beat. Jake glances at you before turning back to his father. "Why is it such a big deal? I mean, I know he was important, but-"

Jaehee cuts him off, his tone sharp. "Jaeyun, do you have any idea how many of our business associates have ties to the chief? He was the linchpin keeping several of our deals in place. If he's really been taken, and it's by any of our enemies, we're looking at a shitshow of epic proportions. Not to forget we’re already on the FBI’s radar, we can not afford any potential leaks."

The word "shitshow" hangs heavily in the air, and you feel a chill run down your spine.

Jake's face hardens as he processes his father's words. "Who do you think did it?"

Jaehee shakes his head. "I don't know yet. But we need to prepare for the worst. If our enemies have him, they could use him to dismantle our operations piece by piece. The information he has it’s... it's invaluable."

You speak up, your voice hesitant. "Maybe he's already dead."

Jaehee's gaze snaps to you, his eyes intense. For a moment, you think he's going to reprimand you, but then he sighs deeply.

"That would be the best-case scenario. If he's dead, we can at least control the narrative, claim he was taken out by a rival or in a random act of violence. But if he's alive and talking..."

He trails off, the implication clear. Jake's hand tightens around yours under the table.

"So, what do we do?"

Jaehee's expression hardens with resolve. "If he's alive, we find him and we kill him ourselves if necessary. We can't afford to have our entire syndicate compromised. Every second he's missing increases the risk."

Yerin interjects, her tone composed. "Do you have any leads?"

Jaehee shakes his head. "Not yet. But I have people working on it. Jaeyun, I need you to reach out to our contacts, see if anyone has heard anything. We need to be proactive but discrete."

Jake nods, his face set in determination. "I’ll get on it right away."

You feel an odd surge of anxiety at the thought of Jake diving headfirst into this dangerous situation. "Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jaehee looks at you thoughtfully. "Just keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear anything, no matter how trivial it may seem, let us know immediately."

You nod, your resolve hard. Jake's hand squeezes yours again, offering silent support. "It’ll be okay," he says quietly, his eyes locked onto yours.

Jaehee stands, his posture commanding. "I'll make some calls. Yerin, keep an eye on things here. And you two," he says, looking at you and Jake, "stay vigilant. We can't afford any mistakes."

With that, he leaves the table, his phone already to his ear as he steps into the house.

Yerin watches him go, her face passive. "This family has faced challenges before, and we've always come out on top. This will be no different."

Jake nods, his jaw set. "We'll do whatever it takes."

You look at him, feeling fearful. You’ve come to understand that you don’t like Jake when he’s in his leader mode. He becomes cold, calculated and ruthless.

You all finish your meal in relative silence. When the meal ends, you and Jake excuse yourselves, making your way back to the car. Jake starts the engine and glances at you. "Are you really okay?"

You take a deep breath, your thoughts racing. "I don't know. I'm worried about what this could mean for me, for Sungchan."

Jake reaches over and takes your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "We'll figure it out. Together."

You nod, feeling a little lightheaded at the way he says the word with so much conviction. "Yeah, together."

As you drive, your mind races with thoughts about the chief, Sungchan, and the potential fallout from all this. Your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. You frown and decline the call, feeling uneasy.

A few minutes later, the phone rings again with the same unknown number. Jake glances at it and then at you, his expression serious. "You should answer it."

Reluctantly, you pick up the call. "Hello?"

There's a heavy silence, then the sound of labored breathing. After a moment, a weak voice whimpers, “…S..sa.ve... me."

Before you can respond, the line cuts off. You stare at the phone, shaken. The voice was so faint and distorted, you couldn't even recognize who it was.

Jake's eyes are on you, concern etched on his face. "What was that?"

You force a shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. "Probably just a spam call."

He watches you for a moment, then nods, seemingly accepting your explanation. The car ride continues in tense silence until you reach a stoplight, and Jake takes an unexpected turn.

"Jake, where are we going?" you ask, confusion lacing your words.

He smiles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I have a surprise for you."

"What's the occasion?" you ask, a blush creeping up your cheeks at the gesture.

"To celebrate being partners," he says simply. He glances at you and smirks, “and a gift for surviving brunch with my family.”

You can't help but smile, feeling a flutter in your chest. "That's sweet of you."

He drives for a bit longer until you pull into the parking lot of the Museum of Modern Art. You look at him, puzzled. "A museum?"

Jake nods, a proud look on his face. "I know how much you love art. I thought we could spend some time together doing something you enjoy."

You feel a rush of gratitude and warmth. Jake has yet again gone above and beyond. You wonder how much more your heart can take before you fall for him. "Thank you, Jake. This means a lot."

You both continue through the gallery, stopping occasionally for you to explain different pieces and their historical contexts. Jake listens attentively, asking insightful questions and clearly enjoying learning about the art world from your perspective.

At one point, you come across a serene landscape painting. "This is by Claude Monet. It's one of his famous Water Lilies series."

Jake's eyes soften as he looks at the delicate brushstrokes. "It's beautiful. Peaceful."

You nod. "Monet was a master of capturing light and atmosphere. He painted these in his garden at Giverny. It's like he's inviting us into his private world."

Jake smiles. "I like that. It's like a glimpse into his soul."

You move on to a bold, geometric piece by Piet Mondrian. "This one's called 'Composition with Red, Blue, and Yellow.' Mondrian was all about simplicity and balance."

Jake studies the painting, the intersecting lines and primary colors. "It's so different from the others we've seen. Almost mathematical."

"Exactly," you say. "He believed in reducing art to its purest form. It's all about finding harmony."

Jake chuckles. "You're a little art geek huh? Really passionate about this, aren't you?"

You blush slightly. "I guess I am. Art has always been a way for me to escape and express myself."

Jake's expression softens. "I'm glad you're sharing it with me. I feel like I'm getting to know you better through this."

As you continue to explore, you come across a striking sculpture by Auguste Rodin. "This is 'The Thinker.' It's one of the most famous sculptures in the world."

Jake walks around the statue, taking in its intricate details. "The detail is incredible. It's like you can feel his thoughts."

You smile. "That's what makes Rodin so amazing. He could capture human emotion and thought in such a tangible way."

Jake nods, clearly impressed. "It's like he's frozen in a moment of deep contemplation."

You spend hours wandering through the museum, discussing various artworks and sharing your thoughts and feelings about them. Jake's genuine interest and engagement make the experience even more enjoyable. You feel a growing connection between the two of you, a bond that goes beyond the superficial.

As you leave the museum, the sun is beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the city. Jake holds your hand as you walk back to the car. "Thank you for today," you say softly. "I had a great time."

Jake smiles. "So did I. I'm glad we got to spend this time together."

You drive in comfortable silence for a while, the city lights flickering outside the car windows. Eventually, Jake breaks the silence. "There's something I need to do before we head home."

You glance at him curiously. "What's that?"

"I need to stop by the packaging warehouse," Jake explains. "I need to speak with Sunghoon and Jay about how to distribute this batch. We're running low on baggie boys, and with the chief's disappearance, I’m sure the police are cracking down on drug deals."

You nod, understanding the urgency. "Alright. I'll come with you."

Jake looks at you, a mix of surprise and gratitude in his eyes. "You don't have to, but I'd appreciate the company."

The drive to the warehouse is short, and Jake parks the car in a secluded area. The building is nondescript, blending in with the industrial surroundings. Jake leads you inside, where Sunghoon and Jay are already waiting.

"Hey, boss," Sunghoon greets Jake with a nod. "We were just going over the inventory. It's getting tight."

Jake frowns, his mind clearly focused on the problem at hand. "We need to figure out a way to stretch what we have and find new suppliers. The last thing we need is a shortage right now."

Jay nods in agreement. "With the police cracking down, it's going to get harder to move product. We need to be careful."

Jake turns to you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Any ideas?"

You hesitate for a moment, then speak up. "Maybe we could diversify our distribution methods. Use different channels to move the product and keep the police off our trail."

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "Not a bad idea. We could use some of our legitimate businesses as fronts."

Jake nods, a look of approval in his eyes. "That's a good start. We'll need to be smart and stay one step ahead."

Sunghoon clears his throat, looking hesitant. "I know it's bad timing, but..." He trails off, unsure of how to continue.

Jake sighs at his best friend. "Just spit it out, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon takes a deep breath. "The shipment of overseas ammunition we ordered has disappeared."

Jake is silent for a moment, then his voice is deadly calm. "How the fuck does a cargo freight carrying sixty thousand dollars worth of ammunition go missing?"

Sunghoon scrambles to explain. "It went missing a few minutes after leaving the harbor earlier today. We've been trying to find it, but so far, no luck."

Jake's anger is palpable, his fists clenching at his sides. You place a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. "Jake, you need to stay level headed."

He heeds your words, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Keep me posted, Sunghoon. We need to find that shipment before tomorrow. It's meant for the Byun's, and Baekhyun isn't known for being a patient man."

Sunghoon and Jay nod, leaving to figure out the situation. As they walk away, you turn to Jake, noticing the tension in his shoulders. "Come on, let's go to your office. You need to relax."

Jake leads you into his office, closing the door behind him. You can see the stress etched into his features, the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. You guide him to sit behind his desk, leaning beside him against the table.

"You've had a rough day," you say softly. "Let me help you unwind."

Jake’s eyes darken as he looks at you from his seated positions “And how do you plan to do that?”

Jake knows very well that his question opens the door for something more, more room for exploring the more intimate parts of your relationship and for a second he thinks he may have jumped the gun. Though when you lift yourself from his desk, looking into his eyes with desire and need swirling in your irises, he gulps as he thinks he may not have made a mistake after all.

Jake swallows, looking into your expectant eyes as you look at him innocently, sparing a glance at his thighs; deliciously manspreading. You try to remain calm about it, taking a deep breath and going all in, tentatively bring your hands to his chest and hook one of your legs over him.

You bravely straddle Jake’s lap in a single moment, settling above his crotch as you peer at him with an unreadable expression.

Jake freezes, eyes wide as his hands naturally fall around your hips sitting on him, and he can’t help but grow weak at the innocent look in your eyes though your body is doing the contrary. He only watches as your eyes linger on his soft lips, his own hands canvasing up to grip your sides with an emotion he could only label as want, eyes filled with anticipation.

“I can fix it… like this.” You speak, hand sliding up to grab Jake’s jaw. You don’t pause to think, mind blank as you lean forward and press your mouth against Jake’s in a single second. Jake doesn’t even have time to feel surprised, in shock for an instant before he begins relishing in the familiar sensation of your lips, warm palms smoothing over your sides.

You slide closer to his body, feeling your chest push against his own as you deepen the kiss, slowly with a hint of lust that leaks into the way you began grinding your body against his, needing more. Jake gladly accepts that, opening his mouth to let his tongue roam your own.

He tongue swipes your bottom lip, loving the wet feeling and you open right up for his taking, all-consuming and head-spinning.

You sneak your hands up into his hair, tugging at the base lightly and Jake groans into your mouth. You become more impatient for friction, something to quell the arousal shooting through your veins, and so you begin moving yourself over his welcoming crotch. You feel him twitch underneath you, beginning to rock himself along with your smaller body, pushing his hips up into you.

Your mouths begin moving more harshly the more time passes, full on making out as you move more urgently against him. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away from you, tugging on the flesh as he breathes for much needed air, moaning as your foreheads find each other.

“Let me take care of you Jake.” You breathe hotly. “I’m yours, aren’t I?”

Jake instantly feels ignited, his cock jolting at just the feeling of you straddling him and he drags his tongue along the inside of his cheek, smirking.

The heat of Jake’s stare then turns dark as he says, “all mine.”

For some odd and unknown reason, Jake finds himself wanting to be the only one who gets to have you; maybe it’s because he’s never felt this way before, or has never felt so strongly about it. But it constantly eats at his brain, thinking of the possibility of other men that got to kiss you just like this, got to have you sit on their lap just like this before he came into the picture.

And he fucking hates it.

Though now that the proverbial line has been irreversibly crossed all Jake can feel in this moment is his sheer desire, his incessant, passionate desire for you and how it has been growing. Ever since the kiss from three weeks ago at lunch, his mind has been spiraling.

He wants to kiss you all the fucking time.

“I need to take you home, baby.”

You nod, that’s exactly what you want. “Please.” You whimper.

Jake is quick to help you to your feet and shift his pants around to hide his raging boner. He grabs you by the back of your elbow and leads you out of his office then the warehouse all together.

He walks you back to the car, his hand gently resting on your lower back. "Can’t wait to get you home," he all but moans.

As Jake starts the car and begins driving, the city lights blur past. You can feel the tension from the day's events slowly ebbing away only to be replaced by a different kind of tension.

He glances at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know," he starts, his tone borderline serious, "I've been thinking a lot about us lately."

You look at him, curious. "What do you mean?"

Jake takes a deep breath, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I mean, I want more. I want us to be more than just a team…and if we’re going to fuck, I want us to be more than people who just sleep with each other."

Your heart skips a beat. "Jake, I..."

Before you can respond, the deafening sound of gunshots pierces the air. Jake's eyes widen as he swerves the car, narrowly avoiding the bullets that shatter the rear windshield.

"Get down!" Jake yells, pushing you down as low as you can go. He maneuvers the car through the empty streets of Seoul, trying to shake off the assailants.

You can hear the gunfire getting closer, the bullets pinging off the car. You're frozen in fear, the reality of the situation paralyzing you. Jake reaches over and pulls you down even further just as a bullet crashes through the window on your side, embedding itself in the backseat.

"Hold on!" Jake shouts. He hits the gas, the car lurching forward as he attempts to outmaneuver the shooters. The assailants' car pulls up alongside yours, and you can see the muzzle flashes as they fire again. Jake swerves violently in their direction, sending the other car careening off the road and into a ditch.

Jake slams on the brakes and pulls out a gun from the console, handing you a spare. "If anyone comes near the car, shoot them," he orders, his voice firm and unyielding.

You nod, gripping the gun tightly as Jake gets out of the car. You watch him approach the other vehicle, his movements calculated and purposeful. You can see his lips moving as he questions the driver and shooter, but you can't hear anything over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Suddenly, Jake lifts his gun and fires, the shots echoing in the night. He stands there for a moment, looking down at the bodies before turning and heading back to the car.

Your anxiety is palpable, but not because of what you just witnessed Jake do. The realization that someone tried to kill you is overwhelming. Jake come back to the car, standing in front of your door, his expression unreadable.

"Hand me the burner phone from the glove compartment," he says calmly. You do as you're told, your hands trembling slightly.

Jake dials a number and waits for a moment. When someone answers, he simply says, "Crimson dove." Then he hangs up, wipes the phone clean, tosses it to the ground and stomps on it before getting into the car and speeds away from the scene, his focus entirely on getting you both to safety.

The remainder of the drive is silent, the tension settling once again, thick as ever. Gone is the sexual desire and want. Instead, in its place is anxiety and anger.

You can't shake the feeling of unease, the fear that still lingers from the attack. When you finally pull into an opening at the top of a hill leading to a tiny home, you spot Sunghoon and Jay standing at the front of the house, their expressions grim.

"What the hell is going on?" Sunghoon demands as Jake helps you out of the car.

Jake's jaw tightens. "Someone put out a hit on us," he says, his voice cold and controlled.

Jay looks shocked. "What the hell? Are you both okay?"

"We're fine," Jake replies. "But we need to act fast. Jay, I need you to go clean up the scene. The car is in a ditch on the outskirts of town."

Jay nods. "Got it. I'll call Sunoo to come and take care of your car."

"Good. Sunghoon, stay here with me. We need to figure out what's going on. First, the missing ammunition shipment, and now this. There’s no way they aren’t connected."

Sunghoon's expression hardens. "We'll get to the bottom of it."

Jake takes a deep breath, his hand still on the small of your back, a silent reassurance. "Let's go inside," he says, guiding you toward the house.

When you step inside Jake doesn't waste any time. He begins pacing the room, his mind clearly working through the details of the attack.

"Sunghoon," he starts, "we need to double-check our security. Make sure there are no leaks. I want a full sweep of our network."

Sunghoon nods, already pulling out his phone to make the necessary calls.

Jay returns, his expression tense. "The scene is being cleared as we speak. Sunoo is on his way to take care of the car."

"Good," Jake replies. "Now, let's focus on the ammunition shipment. I want to know who had access to it and who could have known about our movements."

You watch as Jake effortlessly takes control of the situation, his leadership and anger evident. Despite the chaos, you feel a sense of security knowing he's in charge. A complete change of heart compared to this morning at brunch, God that seems like forever ago now.

Hours pass as the men work tirelessly, making calls and gathering information. You stay close to Jake, offering support where you can. The fear from earlier lingers, but the resolve to find out who targeted you burns even stronger.

As the night wears on, Jake finally turns to you, his expression softening for the first time since the attack. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nod, managing a small smile. "I will be. As long as we're together."

Jake pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms strong and protective around you. "Together," he murmurs.

You nod against his chest, playing with the buttons on his dress shirt. You pull away when you hear footsteps approaching. It's Jay, looking serious as ever.

"Sunghoon and I are leaving now to follow up on some leads," Jay informs him, his tone brisk and professional.

Jake nods, his expression hardening again. "Good. Keep me updated on anything you find."

Jay gives a quick nod, and with a final glance at you, he turns and leaves with Sunghoon. The door closes behind them, and the house feels eerily quiet.

You follow Jake into the living room, the tension from earlier still lingering. Both of you sit on the couch, and Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You nestle into his embrace, finding comfort in his warmth.

After a moment of silence, you murmur, "Crimson dove."

Jake freezes at your words, his body tensing. You pull away slightly to look at him, curiosity and concern in your eyes. "What does it mean?"

Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's a secret code Heeseung and I came up with when we were younger. During the year I stayed with my dad, Heeseung and I were inseparable. Whenever our dad would get on my nerves and I felt my anger issues start to act up, Heeseung told me to just call out 'crimson dove,' and he'd come running to help calm me down."

He smiles bitterly, the memory clearly a mix of fondness and pain. "Heeseung used to be a good older brother to me."

You comfortingly pat his back. "Does it mean anything special?"

Jake laughs softly, shaking his head. "When I asked Heeseung why 'crimson dove,' he just shrugged and said because it sounded tough."

You laugh with him, the tension easing slightly. "Sounds like something Heeseung would say."

Jake's smile lingers for a moment before he continues. "I figured there would be some opposition once I took over and would need a safe phrase or word for when that trouble came knocking. 'Crimson dove' was the first thing that came to mind."

You look at him, your expression thoughtful. "And the safe house?"

Jake nods. "Jay found it. He decided it would be our meeting point if a 'crimson dove' situation ever happened. The three of us, now four including you, are the only ones who know about its existence. Jay and Sunghoon are my closest friends. Sunghoon was meant to keep a close eye on me while I was abroad, and Jay is the son of my father's right-hand man. He's the one who helped me find my role in this world. Jay, in a way, has become like an older brother to me."

You reach out, placing a hand on Jake's cheek. "I'm sorry Heeseung has changed."

Jake shrugs, leaning in to peck your lips. "It's not your fault."

You stare at each other in silence, the tension giving way to a different kind of intensity. The desire in his eyes mirrors your own. Slowly, you lean in and kiss Jake more passionately, your hands threading through his hair.

He responds immediately, his arms tightening around you as he deepens the kiss. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment. His touch is both gentle and demanding, a perfect reflection of the complex man he is.

Your hands explore the contours of his back, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. Jake's hands are just as busy, one tangled in your hair, the other tracing patterns down your spine.

As the kiss continues, you can feel the day's stress melting away, replaced by a fiery need. Jake pulls you even closer, if that’s possible, his lips never leaving yours. When you finally break apart for air, you're both breathing heavily, eyes locked in a heated gaze.

"I can't lose you," he whispers against your lips.

"You won't," you assure him, your voice equally breathless. "We're in this together, remember?"

Jake nods, his forehead resting against yours. "Together," he repeats, his voice filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.

The kiss resumes, this time even more fervent. Your body presses against his as his hands roam your back, exploring and memorizing every curve. The passion between you is undeniable, a testament to the bond you now share.

As the intensity builds, you pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. "Jake..."

He looks into your eyes, desperately searching them for any sign of discomfort.

“I want you.”

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Three

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2,507 (mayhaps I lied...but they will get longer in the future! Trust <3)

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rated; 18+ for swearing and some mature themes

Notes; Rafayel curses...once or twice (I believe this warrants a warning)

Prev || Next

Masterlist

The training honestly wasn't that difficult. There wasn't much to say about it. Just testing out different weapons on makeshift dummies that Xavier had created with his light evol or shooting targets from different distances. You warmed up to your gun rather quickly and while you could use other weapons, you preferred the versatility of a gun. You felt like you and Xavier grew closer during the training.

Today, however, was the day of the art expo. You decided to dress a bit nicer than usual, choosing a yellow dress with a choker and some sneakers just in case you needed to fight. Then, you catch a ride to Whitesand Bay where Rafayel's art studio ‘Mo Art Studio’ was located. You pay the taxi driver and start heading for the large metal gate, pushing it open and you go straight for Rafayel’s front door. You don't bother to knock since Rafayel never knocked on your door and this proves to be the right choice as it allows you to sneak up on Rafayel and scare him while he's painting.

“Boo!” You place your hands on his shoulder and Rafayel actually jumps, his paintbrush leaving a jagged red line across the canvas. “Ah, you ruined my- wait,” Rafayel pauses, holding his chin with one hand, “actually…This is going to be my best painting yet. Hold on for a second and go sit down somewhere.”

You flop down on the sofa near Rafayel so you could keep an eye on him painting. “Do you need my assistance again?” You tease and Rafayel looks over at you with a sassy look, “I think I can handle this on my own.”

After thirty minutes of waiting, you roll over on your stomach on the couch. “Are you done yet?” You whine, your feet kicking behind you as you scroll through your phone. “Almost. I just need to do the last finishing touches.”

“Thomas says you're going to be late.” You sing-song, having snitched him out to his manager as a way to make the artist hurry up. “Well then we'll be fashionably late, silly girl.” You pause at the nickname, blinking a few times before your ears turn a light shade of red and you clear your throat. “Are you bringing that painting to the expo?”

“Hmm no? I'm thinking…of giving it to you. Doesn't that sound so charitable of me?” Rafayel muses, finally setting his paintbrush down and he turns toward you, holding a hand out. “Want to take a look?”

You get up from the couch and walk over to Rafayel, taking his hand before he tugs you closer to stand between his legs. He turns you around so your back is to his chest and then rotates his chair to show the painting. It was an abstract piece of art but you could clearly tell it was supposed to be you, lying on your stomach on his couch. “I'll send it to your apartment later, yeah?” His breath brushes past your ear and you hold back a shiver.

“You're too kind.” You say dryly though the smile on your lips contradicts your condescending tone. “I'm happy to be your muse for today.” You turn your head to look at him and Rafayel quickly looks away as his face turns red from his blush. “Let's get going, Miss bodyguard.” He taps your side before standing. “Hopefully we won't encounter any trouble and we can keep your pretty dress clean. Did you dress up just for me?”

“Hmm, more like I dressed up for myself, mister artist.” You poke his chest before shrugging, “but if it helps you sleep better at night then yes, I did dress up for you.” You turn to smile at him with your hands behind your back. “Now let's go lover boy, we can't keep your fans waiting.”

The art expo was boring at best. Rafayel dip, dodged, and evaded every single reporter while you stood off to the side, sipping on a complimentary alcoholic drink. You could've sworn you saw a familiar head of white hair before Rafayel waves a hand in front of your face. “I've been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. Don't tell me you've been ignoring me.” He pouts, putting his hands on his hips.

“How could I ever ignore you? You make it so difficult to even try.” You laugh behind your wine glass and Rafayel plucks the glass from your hand, tilting his head back to down the rest of it. He sets the now empty glass on a metal tray as a waiter passes by and rests his hand on the wall behind you, effectively trapping you between him and the wall. “Can you ignore me now?” He asks, leaning his face a bit closer to yours and you hold back a smile as you look away, “I can sure as hell try if that's what you'd like but I don't think you want that.” You glance back at him and he's clearly flustered, not used to you flirting back with him.

“I think you've had too much to drink. It's late, let's get you home.” Rafayel turns to leave but you grab him by his shirt. “Are you scared?” You whisper, raising your left brow as you challenge him. He scoffs, still blushing as he retaliates, “Why would I be scared? Shouldn't you be worried that you'll be in so many news articles? Oh, I can see the headlines now! ‘World renowned artist Rafayel has a mysterious girlfriend’? ‘Artist beloved by millions has his own beloved? Who is she?’ Does any of that sound fun to you?”

“I can always say I'm drunk and you're just helping me out.” you muse, clicking your tongue. “And then the news article would be ‘World renowned artist helps a drunk woman home? Where did he go after, did he go back home or…’ “ you trail off, tilting your head to the side as Rafayel groans, “You really need to know when to stop, silly girl. We're leaving, now.”

Rafayel tugs you outside by your wrist as you laugh, your head smacking against his back as he suddenly stops walking. “What's wrong now, lover bo-” Rafayel suddenly turns around and pins you to a column. “There's reporters at six o'clock. Unless you want everyone knowing you were with me tonight, act like you're so drunk you passed out.”

“You're no fun.” You pout, but rest your head against his chest nonetheless. Your drooping eyes closed as you actually felt a bit sleepy now. “Are you going to carry me out?” You whisper, a smile in your voice before Rafayel sighs and grumbles, “Don't push your luck.” Though you suddenly find yourself being lifted into the air and you wrap your arms around his neck. “Jesus, you can't give me a warning?” You whisper-yell and Rafayel chuckles, “What drunk person needs a warning before being picked up? Now shh, you're supposed to be drunk off your ass right now.”

You pause your retort at hearing Rafayel curse. Now that you think about it…the boys never cursed in game. At least, not that you remember. Curses sound almost pretty coming from Rafayel's lips. You close your eyes once more and rest your forehead against his neck, your hair thankfully covering your face so if any pictures surface, no one would know it's you unless…it's someone who knows you well like Xavier or Zayne but those two never check social media so you doubt they'd find out.

A few cameras go off but for whatever reason, you don't see any more bright shutters behind your eyelids and you end up being lulled to sleep by Rafayel’s breathing and unusually fast heart rate.

The next few days go by rather quickly. You're either chasing after Rafayel and going to Twinkle Toys with him to play the claw machines, training with Xavier and actively fighting wanderers as you're back working at the Hunter's association, or what you're currently doing- which is heading to Snowcrest in the Arctic with Zayne since your grandma's letter said you'd find some answers there with someone called Doctor Noah.

Apparently, he's Zayne's mentor so that makes it even easier to find the man. As you get off the train with Zayne, you notice multiple hunters and check your watch. There must be some metaflux anomalies around the Arctic but that's not what you both were here for. Since today marks a week since you were discharged from the hospital, the wound on your right eye is healed enough to not cause you constant pain.

“You know where we're going right, Zayne?” You ask as you hook your index finger through his belt loop so as to not lose him in the crowd. “You know, if you wanted to hold my hand, you should've just asked.” Zayne takes your hand from his belt loop and instead holds it as he walks. “I-” you pout, ears slightly turning red, “I just didn't want you getting lost.”

“Me getting lost?” Zayne chuckles and shakes his head. “Sure, we'll go with that.”

You talk to a few locals and they point you in the direction of the sleds since that's the only way to get to Doctor Noah's home, which is higher up on the snowy mountain but not too far. “Have you driven one of these before?” You ask as he steps on first and motions for you to stand in front of him. “It's automated.” He tugs you over by your gun strap since you didn't move fast enough, one hand resting on your waist as he presses his chest into your back so he can set a destination on the small, touch pad screen.

“Is this safe?” You ask after a few moments of silence. Zayne presses the last button on screen and sighs, “Do you think I'd be using this if it wasn't safe?” The robotic dog begins to pull the sled and after about thirty minutes of the chilly ride, it finally stops. You're cold, of course shivering but that doesn't stop you from petting the robo dog, even if it doesn't react.

“Let's head inside, you're getting a bit too cold.” Zayne says, tugging at your hand as you both walk toward the cabin.

The information you learnt from Doctor Noah wasn't much of a surprise to you, who is already aware of this information but like always, you have to act as if this is all new and surprising. Like your grandma working for Onychinus, experimenting on children with aether cores, saving you- their most prominent test subject after the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, saving Caleb as well, her leaving Onychinus with us and putting that life behind her. Every trail leads to Onychinus being the one behind the explosion that killed grandma and Caleb but you didn't feel so sure about it. Sure, they could've been tying up loose ends by why do something so obvious when they would've just assassinated her and left you and Caleb alive? Maybe they wanted you to be isolated since they want your aether core?

Honestly, even with all of your knowledge about the game, you still didn't know everything. You definitely didn't get every single card, not wanting to spend all of your money in the mobile game, and the game wasn't completed- seeing as an update was scheduled a few months before you entered the game. The only information you had about the next love interest was that his name was Sylus, he was devastatingly attractive with his white hair and red eyes, and his evol was dark red. You would guess blood manipulation could be his evol but that's just speculation. Oh, you also know he is the leader of Onychinus, so if anyone would have answers, it's him. You came to the same conclusion as the one who came before you, the N109 Zone and Onychinus would be where your answers lie.

Though that's easier said than done. The N109 Zone was a lawless area, having taken the most damage during the Catastrophe fourteen years ago. No real plants grow there, it's mostly dark and gloomy, it seems to be the area with the most crime and poverty. It's where orphans and the homeless go…it's where big gangs like Onychinus can run free, an illegal protocore market, all kinds of underground stuff goes on there so honestly, you're a bit worried how you'll fare there. But you have to continue the story somehow.

Doctor Noah's snow white fox Pie hops into your lap as you sit on his porch, blowing out smoke from your lips as you pet the soft creature. Doctor Noah had said Pie got his name because he'd steal pies from people’s windowsills like he was in a cartoon and when the doctor saved the little fox, he ate even more pies. It's a cute reason for a name and it made you want a pet. Your apartment always felt lonesome, even if you saw the three guys every other day. When you were on your own, you felt the most suffocated as the constant reminder that this isn't your world pressed down against your chest. You weren't sure what to do, if you could act differently from the game and what changes it would bring if you did. You didn't want to act too differently and flip the whole story on its head and you not know what the next course of action was.

At least currently, you still know what's left until the end of chapter eight. You still have a month before you're sent into the unknown. A month before you'll allow yourself to spiral, panic, and act differently from the original main character.

You hear the chair next to you creaking as Zayne takes a seat. He stays silent, allowing you to stay lost in your thoughts before he taps your thigh. Pie nips at his finger and nuzzles back into your lap and you turn to look at Zayne. “Look, it's the aurora.” He smiles, jerking his head in the direction of the sky and honestly, that's exactly what you needed. You lean back in your chair, head tilted up as you look at the pretty lights in the sky that only appear in the arctic. “It's so beautiful.” You murmur, cold hands lightly petting Pie to stay warm.

“It is.” Is all Zayne says and you know he's looking at you without even having to see his face. You knew how the game went and you knew you'd have to stay the night in Snowcrest before heading back to Linkon tomorrow. Then, a few weeks after that, you'd be going on a mission with Rafayel.

Honestly, all you wanted to do was rest. Especially with everything that's soon to come.

Your eyes slowly drifting closed and your hand falls from Pie's soft fur. Your last thought as you fell asleep was that you wanted to bring Rafayel here to give him some inspiration.

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

I hope no one minds double author's notes! To be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit having to post this to three different sites but it's fun. Tumblr is by far the prettiest in terms of design though. Wattpad and AO3 are the bane of the existence but I don't mind posting to multiple platforms in case one story gets taken down. Then, I still have the copies! So, I guess, it's worth it in the end.

Hope you enjoyed this short chapter (I sound like a broken record) and I'm really hoping the next one is longer because I don't even remember...)

[elleloquently]

| a/n : female!reader who is quite girly and soft. i wrote this purely for fun so it might be a little self indulgent but i'm sharing it anyway... craving lemonade. have you ever had lavender lemonade? it's my favorite. song suggestions because i'm feeling nostalgic - work song: hozier... georgia: vance joy... from eden: hozier... i think that's all. if you read this, thank you <3

nothing sweeter - ellie williams

jackson was beginning to be enveloped by the summer sun, and you couldn't have been happier.

you didn't mind the way that the sun made you squint, or having to messily pull up your hair when the heat around your neck started to feel too overwhelming, only to realize that you had forgotten to place a hair tie on your wrist that morning.

frantically waving your hand in the heat was enough to make you feel heavy with sleep, but you continued anyway, determined not to allow your favorite friend to suffer from persistent, pesky flies.

"poor girl," you cooed, running your hand along shimmer's neck. always happy to accept your affections, shimmer inhaled quickly, puffing the breath out through her nostrils with a vibrating purr.

an easy laugh escaped you, tracing a delicate finger along the white strip down her nose.

"should've known i'd find you in here."

the familiar voice prompts an immediate smile to blossom onto your lips, one that your girlfriend would certainly argue was more beautiful than any of the flowers blooming in jackson.

"were you looking for long?" you question apologetically, eyebrows pinching together as you turned to face your visitor.

ellie shakes her head. she wore a tank top and a short sleeved, baggy button up, though it remained unbuttoned in her usual style.

"not long," she assures, pressing a brief kiss to the worried crease on your forehead. you relaxed at once, eyes fluttering shut as your cheeks warmed.

"i'm sorry i didn't wait," you mumble anyway.

ellie swats at your apology, strands of auburn slipping from the bun that held half of her hair. "you're here early today," she observed.

you nodded enthusiastically, a soft sigh exiting before your explanation. you usually went home first after work, normally to eat while asking ellie about her day and then confiding in her about yours.

today was different, prompted by the weather. perhaps a little sunshine really was good for the soul. everyone seemed happier today. even ellie looked more relaxed than usual, eyes bright while you spoke.

"i know," you enthuse. shimmer nudges your arm. "it's just so beautiful today, isn't it? we didn't have the heart to keep the kids indoors... i mean, we could've had class outside but then really, what's the point?"

you were somewhat of a teacher in jackson, helping out with the younger children. there were actual teachers, too, people who went to school and had fancy qualifications, once upon a time. you were a notorious babysitter, sweet and patient and first on the list when the school needed a bit more help. you were happy to oblige, finally feeling as though you had found your footing.

you were hopeless for patrol, never quite got comfortable with the feeling of a gun weighing down your hand. it was fulfilling, teaching at the school. it was your second favorite place in jackson, the first being anywhere with the animals that you adored.

"i think i could guess who the ring leader for that idea was..." ellie mused, looking at you with nothing but adoration in her eyes.

your eyes widening was enough confirmation and one corner of ellie's mouth quirked up, a lopsided grin.

"it was just too nice," you defended meekly.

ellie rolled her eyes, a false twinge of annoyance coating her tone but you knew she was only joking. "so you're the reason why i got harassed by loud children on my walk over? this time of day is usually peaceful."

you playfully shoved at her arm, not enough to make ellie even sway.

"hey," you warned, voice soft.

shimmer huffs and you raise your hand, scratching under her chin.

"so you came here to spoil shimmer?" ellie accuses, patting her horse as well.

"she deserves it," you grin, brushing your hands together to rid them of any dust.

"yeah? she's not the only one," ellie offers you her hand, fingers flexing while she waits. "let's get you home, ring leader."

your cheeks warmed and you graciously accept, interlocking your fingers with ellie's.

"how was it this morning, by the way?" you ask, shielding your eyes with your free hand as you exit the stables. the path is dusty but the nearby grass is so lush, it's a sight for sore eyes.

walking alongside ellie must've been a sight too, for any other resident in jackson. her clothes were dusty and faded from her early patrol, surely she needed to shower yet, and a cut was healing on her chin. she nearly always had a frown etched onto her lips. tense. you were well put together, considering, the only filth being that on your hands as evidence from a trip to the stable.

a pretty petal and her weed, ellie once joked, but you were quick to scold her for it.

"quiet," ellie informed you. you squeezed her hand and held yourself steady, determined not to lose your footing if you were just going to stare at her. "i was with dina today. not much infected, either."

you nodded sleepily along with her words. "i was thinking of maybe trying to make lemonade today?"

ellie perked up at your suggestion, and the reaction made your heart swell. "i have some things left over, still good but unused... think m'gonna trade around for a shit ton of lemons."

ellie snorted as you swore. it was comical in context and ellie felt soft towards you, desperate to get home and out of the sun. she hadn't seen you all day and she felt greedy now, bitterly jealous at the idea of you leaving again right away, sharing your smiles and polite nature with everyone else around town.

"i'll get you lemons," ellie doesn't offer so much as she tells you.

your eyebrows draw together slowly. "oh?"

"you should rest awhile, those kids have got to drive you wild," she mutters, to which you respond with an easy laugh.

"ellie, it's fine. doesn't lemonade sound good? it does to me, i think."

"anything coming from you would be good," ellie quips, and you bump against her. you love her this time of year, her freckles are so visible in the sun.

“so let me get the lemons,” you negotiate. “it won’t take long, promise.”

it won’t take long is an understatement. the people of Jackson share things as a community, and trading has been your way of shopping. despite the guidelines and your good natured heart, ellie was sure that there were a handful of people that would offer up all of their lemons for less than nothing if you so much as knocked on their door.

it was too warm to debate. ellie sighed reluctantly and you knew you had won, already imagining the sweetness that was soon to make your lips pucker.

"you can help if you want, only if you aren't too busy," you happily offered, tilting to your head to look at ellie.

"never too busy for you," ellie replied, almost offended that you would even think so.

you're giggly today and maybe you really have had too much sun.

ellie steps in front of you and pulls open the front door, leaning back in order to give you space to walk inside first.

your house is so dark compared to the sunlit, bright blue sky outside. you blink rapidly, trying to adjust your eyes in the new light.

ellie breathes in deeply and decides to take off her converse at the door. you had cleaned recently, she could tell.

even though you didn't grow up in the house, you've made it your own overtime. you never wanted to feel as though you were intruding in someone else's space. it took months upon months and lots of effort, but it felt like you. it was another thing that ellie appreciated about you, you certainly had a knack for turning a house into a home. she hoped to move in soon.

you beeline for a window, using both arms to push it open. the warm breeze filters inside and you hum, satisfied.

standing on your toes to draw back the curtains, you look over your shoulder to meet ellie's gaze.

"i was thinking i could make extra, we could take it to joel?"

a smile came to ellie naturally. your thoughtfulness was endearing, and ellie could tell you've been thinking about it and planning all day.

"sounds good," she replies, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear.

you're pleased so you grin, hanging onto the feeling of ellie's thumb grazing your cheek.

"okay," you mumble, suddenly feeling as though you were rapidly losing all of your motivation. you pull away from ellie, who reaches out once again, entrapping you in her grasp.

"just five more minutes?" ellie asks, her tone nonchalant but her green eyes were pleading.

you throw your head back and groan in protest, but you both already know that you'll give in. "you're such a dork," you accuse.

"so... yes?" ellie asks hopefully, holding both of your hands in her own.

"yes," you grumble. "just five minutes," you solidify, but ellie is already pulling you closer before you can finish your sentence.

[universesweetheart]

Your Umbrella (Dazai x Reader)

I love him. My baby, my love, my sunshine is safe and happy in my bed.

Wrote this before watching today's new episode! This feels rushed because I was too excited for the new episode to wait to write it out. Sorry babes, Dazai is my top priority.

Post episode Mars: I giggled and kicked my feet like a little girl! That was some gay shit, but HELLO DAZAI IS ALIVE! My babyboo ahh.

(Also did you guys see the chapter236 JJK leaks?! I shall write for Gojo...I'm coping)

Writing is how I cope.

In which we talk with Dazai while we both overlook the setting sun (see what I did there hehe)

Bye now - Mars ♡

Together on a bench, onlooking the sunset, you and Dazai sat in silent. The rays of the warm sunlight pleasant on your skin and face. The clouds, a pretty colour of orange and yellow. The blue contrast of the sky blended nicely.

“Why are you a detective?” you asked Dazai, you were in a sulky mood today, you felt… drifty, for lack of a better word. It was one of those days where you wake up and question your existence. Why were you you? Why did you want to do this job? Why did your life turn this way?

Dazai shifted his gaze to you, his eyes looking at yours. He let out a silent sigh before giving you a smug smile.

“Don’t I look like I belong here? Plus it’s quite interesting” He looked up at the pretty clouds and then muttered under his breath, “This job comes naturally to me”

“Brushing my teeth comes naturally to me but that’s because I’ve done it a million times” you stated, and you heard him chuckle.

“I suggest you don’t compare your little daily routine to my life darling” he snorted, eyes still on the sunset.

“Do you take pride in your job?”, you continued to probe. Your mind was curious, but your heart wasn’t. Your heart feared triggering him and making him angry, a product of your own troubled past. But you knew Dazai, you wanted to believe you did, and he wouldn’t snap like that. He was too much of an unserious person. But what if?

Dazai gave a small nod, confirming your assumption. He turns to look at you, “it’s because of my job that I’ve been able to accomplish many things” his smile smug, “Impressive, yes? Heh.”

“Many things like?” You seem to not take the hint to not go further but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Handling guns” he jokes and you chuckle, it wasn’t even funny. His voice just made everything sound giddy.

“Have you accomplished happiness?” you tilt your head and look back at him.

Dazai freezes up but quickly basks it with a little laugh and turns backed to face the sun. A desperate attempt to avoid your eyes. “Do I look unhappy?” he muses, his voice teasing.

“I’d rather not judge a book by its cover. You tell me.”

Dazai laughs, “What a curious thing you are, asking me such a thing” he smiles, it’s not pretty you think.

“Should I be irritated by your little question or find it funny how straightforward you are” He asks you with a little smirk. When you don’t answer and just stare at him, he adds “Happiness had abandoned me, I’ll say, a very long time ago.”

Abandonment? Was this the closest Dazai will ever allow you to be? Desperate and lovesick, you grabble at any piece of crumbs he gives. It’s pathetic. You attempt to keep your cool, but you’re sure he knows how you really feel. He seems to always know everything.

“Doesn’t that contradict the philosophy ‘Happiness is found inside of us’?”

Dazai glances at you for a moment, then back to the sun, he let out a small hum of interest. You really had a way of surprising him, not that he’d ever let you know that.

“I suppose so, however the happiness I’m searching for cannot be reached. I assure you that.”

You stole a glance at his face, he seems to be reminiscing on something. Or maybe that was just another façade to lead you astray from his true feelings.

“Why not?”

With a bit of hesitation, he smiles, eyes bright. A change that catches you off guard, Dazai shifts closer to you. The edge of his trench coat brushing up against your pants. He lowers his voice several octaves, almost in a forbidden whisper, “Because I am searching for one thing that cannot be obtained.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “And what’s that? Dinosaurs?”, a futile attempt to lighten up the conversation. You wanted so badly a shred of him, the real him, but now that you think you’re getting it, you’re not sure. You’re running away.

Dazai laughs amused by your response, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he closes them, letting the laughter overtake him. “Good observation, but no” he clicks his tongue playfully, “To put it simply. I am searching for one thing to fill…” he sighs out and shakes his head a little.

“Ah” he giggles, “I’m not sure what I’m searching for” he deflects. He doesn’t know if he should share, if he could bare to say it out loud. Because to say it out loud would mean to admit it. To acknowledge it.

Bullshit. You knew it was a lie. He was a liar. Damn your heart for falling for him.

Looks at him, “It’s okay” you said with a sigh, “I’m searching for myself in a way,” you decided to turn the conversation on you to avoid going to go down the road of awkwardness.

“The thing…I’m searching for doesn’t exist, love doesn’t exist.” He sounded like he was in pain. Like it pained him to say that. To tell you that. You find yourself feeling guilty, did you pressure him?

“Love isn’t limited, so again, why?” you continue.

Once again for the multiple time, Dazai laughs “Curious little thing indeed” he turns to look at you, “Think you have a chance, Bella?”

You find your face heating up and keeps your eye on the sun to avoid his gaze.

“Do you think you could meet my standards? They’re quite high” he teases and once again you think he’s deflecting. A big distraction to avert your eyes from peering at him.

He holds his head up high, his gaze on you unwavering. You aren’t looking at him, but the intensity of his eyes pins you to this old bench.

“Are they high to protect your heart?” you blurt you before you even knew what you were saying. “Sorry!” you instantly apologize.

Dazai was surprised by your statement, yes that was exactly what it was. He stayed silent for a moment, contemplating your words. “Perhaps,” he sighs, shall I take a chance? He questions himself, a battle between his brain. “I have set out expectations that I’m even unsure about myself.” He spoke and then stayed silent. He waited for your next words. His heart was pounding yet his face had a smug smile.

“Expectations are like umbrellas, they stop rain and sun from reaching us” you state, and then laughs.

“Indeed, but what’s your point?”

“Rain is like pain, yes your umbrella, your walls, protect you from it” you cross a leg over the next, eyes drinking in the sunlight. “But you miss out on the warm sun too.”

Dazai ponders to himself for a moment. It appears you’ve managed to grasp a greater sense of him. Did he underestimate you? No, he wouldn’t be so careless. “Quite the profound analogy you have there, it’s fascinating.” He smiles at you, “How did you come to this conclusion, might I ask?”

“You know, I like sun especially in the mornings and evenings, it’s like a warm hug” you fiddle with your shirt, “but I also like rain, though sometimes storms are too harsh for my umbrella.”

Dazai observed you for a while, the silence between you two comfortable. He noticed the light pink tinting your cheeks and the way you avoided his eyes. You had intrigued him, maybe he truly had a soft spot for you.

The silence was not comfortable for you, did you overstep? Did he find your analogy dumb? Your mouth acted on its own, “I always use my umbrella” you stated, “But one harsh storm broke it, and I was drenched with a skeleton of an umbrella” your eyes have this faraway look, he notes.

“And then the sun hit me and I wasn’t ready and I was scared” you breathe out, closing your eyes. Dazai thinks the sight is better than the setting sun, “But it dried up my wet clothes and wet skin and wet hair. It felt warm and…yellow” you laugh softly, “yellow is such a beautiful colour, yes?”

He hums, “Are you saying that you decided to get rid of your protection and walk and bask in the sunlight that you so adore” his voice is light and teasing. His eyes laser focused on you as if you’d burst open and come up with a new revelation.

“Yes, sun being metaphor for love. Rain for pain, umbrella for protective walls and wet for I guess, depression?” you break down your words, trying to make him understand. He already understands, he just loves your voice so much.

“To translate from my understanding, you’re saying you choose love regardless of the costs?” you nod.

“You fascinate me,” he admits boldly, “Do you have someone in mind?”

“Someone in mind?”

“For love, the person you choose will be a caliber of that, do you?” He shifts his eyes to the clouds. A blissful sight.

“When I say sun is love I don’t speak of lovers. I would say I’m my own sun. A lover would be a mirror, reflecting to me how bright my own sun shines.” Your lips presses together into a thin line.

“A mirror, I see” he chuckles. “Oh, you curious little thing” he smiles.

“Then can we test this?”

“Test what?”

“Let go of your umbrella and let me be your mirror,” he takes a hold of your hand, “Belladonna,”

“Osamu”

His heart stops when you whisper his given name. It sounded so beautiful falling from your lips. “Say it again” he leans in and connects your lips together.

[arpmemething2]

Batman the Animated Series sentence starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"All right, scum bucket, it's you, me, and thirty stories. You're gonna tell me exactly what I want to know."

"That's one way to remove a splinter."

"I have this natural immunity against poisons, toxins, the pain and suffering of others. Go figure."

"I failed you. I wish there were another way for me to say it. I cannot. I can only beg your forgiveness, and pray you hear me somehow, someplace... someplace where a warm hand waits for mine."

"Last time we met, you tried to throw me off a building."

"If you think I've been bad news before..."

"Old and infirm as you are, I'd trade a thousand of my frozen years for your worst day."

"What kind of a saboteur uses a six-thousand dollar Metronex to set a time bomb?"

"I never counted on being happy."

"A strong mind can fuel a frail body."

"I need a new car."

"There's no way you could have escaped from that explosion! How did you get out?"

"I'm gettin' too old for this."

"I suppose what they say is true: society is to blame. High society."

"Succumb to the fear!"

"Gee, it's amazing the things you find in people's glove compartments."

"Children and guns do not mix. Ever."

"I'm having a BAD DAY! I'm sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up!"

"They're not stupid, and it's your party."

"Aren't they just the cutest family you've ever seen?"

"It's midnight darling, time to unmask."

"It's gonna be one of those nights."

"When you look too long into the abyss, the abyss looks back through you."

"If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?"

"You've got to admit there's something between us."

"There's always time to heal."

"I didn't realize you'd taken up listening to rock and roll."

"Choosing a weekend date?"

"I don't believe in fate."

"An entire city screaming in fear. I wonder if we'll be able to hear it."

"Some thought I'd gone mad. Others thought I always had been. And so they put me where they thought I belonged."

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no tales."

"This city would fall apart without you!"

"I love that trick but I can never make it work."

"Taking up video games, are we?"

"I hate it when he does that."

"You are strong... but not strong enough!"

"They don't make straight jackets like they used to. I should know."

"He's not samurai. He's NINJA. They're spies and assassins. Their only code is to get the job done."

"A pixel is worth a thousand words."

"I am vengeance! I am the night!!"

"And who says opera has to be boring?"

"He always knew how to make an exit."

"Hey! Do I hit your kids? Oh, actually I do..."

"Now boys, didn't your mommies teach you that's not the way to get a lady's attention?"

"Not the robot theory again."

"Freeze, maggots! You're all under arrest!"

"You said you'd never let me go home!"

"What was she before she went bonkers?"

"This used to be a beautiful street. Good people lived here once."

"'Tis better to have loved and lost, and made a small profit, than never to have loved at all!"

"Chance is everything. Whether you're born or not, whether you live or die, whether you're good or bad. It's all arbitrary."

"But you've forgotten the first rule of comedy: if you have to explain the joke... THEN IT ISN'T FUNNY!"

"I told you not to speak!"

"Coming through! Hot stuff!"

"The snow is beautiful, don't you think? Clean, uncompromising..."

"When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping."

"What a pleasant surprise. Though I should warn you - breaking and entering is against the law."

"This could cause a stampede to pork."

"You really know how to put the fun in funeral."

"You ought to put your toys away."

"Would not, could not... would not, could not... oh, could not join the dance."

"Home. I never thought that could sound so good."

"Then I'll see you in your nightmares!"

"As the Bard said, "the fault lies not in our stars, but in ourselves.""

"You know what I'd have given for a death scene like this. Too bad I won't get to read the notices."

"He's a little protective of all this. I think he likes bats better than people."

"All your power and money has bought you an empire of misery."

"Don't try this at home kids!"

"I feel ill."

"Well, that was fun! Now, who's for Chinese?"

"You're about to fall out of orbit."

"Why can't he ever stay dead?"

"They can bury me in the ground, as deep as they like. But I'll grow back. We always grow back. Don't we, baby?"

"All men have something to hide. The brighter the picture, the darker the negative."

"You thought I was just another bubble-headed blond bimbo! Well, the joke's on you, 'cause I'm not even a real blonde."

"When the wage slaves start acting like they own the place, it's time to pull the plug."

"I've been known to be foolish, but ain't nobody calls me a liar and goes to bed happy."

"Since you don't like my side-splitters, how 'bout a skull-splitter?"

"This is kidnapping, mister! Last time I checked, it was highly illegal!"

[lmaowatermelon]

Valdangelo Wedding Planning (fic excerpt)

Chaotic wedding planning from an unfinished fic (sharing on tumblr so I don't flood the archive tag)

Just really liked this part, enjoy!

“We are not calling our wedding ‘Hellfire.’” Nico di Angelo said with disapproval.

Leo Valdez sighed and raised his hands in mock frustration. He was sitting at their kitchen table with a laptop open to the New Rome wedding planner website. Nico thought that maybe, just maybe, the planning part of the event would go smoothly with the help of the internet, which wasn’t available when he was younger (alas, he was wrong).

“We need some pizzazz! It’s like a prom theme, you know, to stir up some hype for the big day,” Leo explained.

“Do we really need a big theme?” Nico countered. “Isn’t it fine to just marry you? That’s… already more than I could ask for.”

Leo gazed right at his future husband. He cupped Nico’s cheek with a gentle hand, one that was so warm that the son of Hades melted into his touch. They both understood what Nico meant without words: how he couldn’t have imagined a legal marriage with another man back in the 1930s. Something so simple was already a blessing.

“Okay, okay, no need for a fancy theme. But our guests will still expect some sort of color palette and flowers, that kind of stuff. How about we start there?” Leo offered.

Nico almost nodded in relief, but he would’ve reacted too soon. Leo immediately pulled up a list of poisonous plants to include in the decorations.

“If we just put them far enough away from the guests…” the son of Hephaestus whispered, an evil grin on his face.

Nico leaned over to glance at Leo’s search result. “Belladonna?”

Leo relished in the sudden close contact. He felt some of Nico’s anxiety and stiffness leave his bones when their hands intertwined on their laps. Still, he was feeling mischievous, and he opened up a field of images of the plant in question.

“Neeks, this is the perfect decor for the ceremony. I’m thinking plum, wine red, maybe some gold, and we can throw in some treatable skin rashes for the one unfortunate guest who touches the berries.”

Nico narrowed his eyes and swatted at Leo’s cheek without any force. “You’re not putting rash-inducing plants in the reception room. But we can put fake ones in there if you like them.”

”I like,” Leo said as he pointed finger guns at his fiancé, “how you think, love of my life.”

Nico grinned wider than he had that entire day. The son of Hades could only pretend to be fed up with his partner for so long. He thought Leo’s silliness was comforting when it was coming from a sincere place, and anyway, Leo nailed the color suggestions. But the son of Hephaestus also toned down his jokes regardless when he opened up the page of RSVPs. The sight of all their friends’ names on the ‘going’ list silenced them both for a long while.

“Everyone said yes,” Nico breathed, musing over the columns of text.

Leo squeezed Nico’s hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Nico laughed, so soft and small that it was barely noticeable and no less beautiful than a summer breeze.

“Who wouldn’t want to see you glowing on your wedding day? You’re gorgeous,” Leo stated with every bit of seriousness in his bones. “You deserve to be celebrated, Neeks.”

“No, you,” Nico insisted, his face flushed red.

“No, no, I insist,” Leo replied. “Seriously.”

“What a coincidence, I’m serious too. You’re hot. Literally.”

Leo lit a small fire in his palm and moved in to kiss Nico on the forehead. Nico’s rare laugh erupted with happiness from his throat, and Leo stared at him in adoration before he reached out and ran a loving thumb over Nico’s hair, then the corner of his eyes, then his cheek, chin, and lips. The son of Hades stayed still through it all and watched his partner with equal amounts of affection.

“I’m glad I get to marry you, ghost boy,” Leo breathed against Nico’s hair. “I finally feel like I’ve done something right.”

[sanjoongie]

𝑳𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍

💕to my dear @downtoamagicalland. You are the light at the of my tunnel, the giggle that fairies are born from, the motivation I never always need, the fire to my water. Never change and always be your authentic self. But that doesn't mean I'll ever stop complaining about your sneaky girl shit 🤣 I love you and happy birthday

💕Pairing: Yeosang x Reader (f)

💕Au: isekai au, kingdom hearts au, video game au, bouncy au

💕Trope: strangers to lovers, amnesia

💕Genre: suggestive, adventure

💕Rating: 18+, MDNI

💕Warnings: some kisses were exchanged, fighting, blood, smoking due to stress, alluding to you and Yeosang being lovers, mentions of alcohol

💕Word Count: 2,002

💕Summary: when you get teleported to your favorite video game, you didn't expect to also fall in love in the process

💕divider by @cafekitsune

💕Playlist recommendation: Bouncy by Ateez, Paranoid by Xdinary Heroes, and Song of the Wind by Kingdom

It had been a shit day, you mused in your head, as you leaned against the back door of your house, guiltily smoking a cigarette, but you fucking needed it. You had stayed late at work, you had walked home in the rain, your book and your notebook were drenched and you were so fucking done with reality currently. 

You watched sulkily as the rain poured continuously around you and tried to figure out what your next move was. You were going to take a nice long HOT shower, bundle up in some warm clothing, and turn on your Playstation. You were going to play Kingdom Hearts and get lost in another universe.

You had spoiled yourself a bit too well, or perhaps it was the lull of the menu music, but the last thing you remembered was the opening scene of Kingdom Hearts playing and your eyelids feeling heavy until you fell asleep, murmuring of this being much better than reality.

You had a dream where you were falling down through blackness. You were…not yourself. You were a cartoon version of yourself with goofy big feet. You chuckled inwardly. Clearly Kingdom Hearts had sucked you in a little too hard. You watched as you continued to fall down through black nothing until a stained glass appeared below you. The stained glass depicted some type of saloon with guns crossing on the top, blowing fire with the cartoon version of yourself in front. That wasn’t any world you had ever seen in Kingdom Hearts. You bursted through the stained glass, expecting pain but there was nothing but a lightness that you felt. You watched as a heart drifted up above you, separate from your body. Is that why you felt light, because your heart was gone? Or was it the falling feeling?

When you next opened your eyes, you weren’t quite as comfortable as you had been when you fell asleep. You groaned as you pushed yourself up from some asphalt… wait?! Asphalt?

You shot upwards in fear. You weren’t in your home, asleep in your bed. You were in the middle of the road! You looked around you, trying to get your bearings but none of this looked familiar. You looked down at your body and you were in clothing you didn’t own. Black skirt that was half shorts as well, harness across a high neck crop top--you looked like you were ready for some kind of covert mission?

You didn’t have much time to contemplate your current situation because Heartless began to drift around your feet and fully formed a circle around you. The cute but definitely dangerous creatures shifted from foot to foot and you could hear the battle music starting. 

“Am I a keyblade wielder?” You said out loud. You held your hands out, waiting for a keyblade to manifest between them but nothing happened. You giggled nervously. This wasn’t good.

You screeched and ducked, throwing your arms over your head as a Heartless launched itself at you. Maybe you had some magic? “Blizzard!” You tried but nothing happened to the Heartless but they did cock their heads at you curiously. 

“Damn it!” You shouted in frustration. “I don’t want to be a damsel in distress.” 

You picked up some rocks and began to chuck them at the Heartless, yelling wordlessly with as much courage as you could muster. Suddenly, the Heartless stood still. Then one by one they started to disappear around the outer circle. 

“Yeah, that’s right!” You continued to throw rocks, “You should be scared of me!”

Then you heard a roar of a motorcycle. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. A man with long hair and a red accent leather jacket launched his bike over your head by using a broken piece of road as a ramp. The bike transformed from vehicle to keyblade with a birdcage at its hilt, and with a calm but confident face, defeated all the Heartless around you.

Your mouth was on the floor in shock. The man hefted his keyblade over his shoulder and offered his hand. “Want a ride back to the saloon?”

“I…” Your feet seemed to be itching to move towards the man. “Do I know you?”

The man frowned. “That’s not funny, Heart. Now take my hand or I’m leaving you behind with the Heartless.”

You took the man’s hand tentatively and he yanked you closer, eyes serious and reading your face. “You’re serious. You have no idea who I am, do you?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never even seen this place before.”

The man laughed and then straightened his face quickly. “Let’s get out of here before more Heartless gather, you trust me for that at least, right?”

That’s how you found yourself clinging to a stranger’s broad back on the back of a motorcycle, zooming to an unknown destination. You would have admired the city’s skyline if not for the fact that you had literally no idea how you somehow ended up in a weird, different world in Kingdom Hearts. Who were you and why did this man know who you were?

The motorbike slash keyblade drove down a narrow street, and at the end of it, was ‘the saloon’. With the simple ‘bar’ sign above a pair of not-so-simple flamethrowers, there was a classic western set of swinging dividers and another neon sign above that read ‘k-hot chili peppers’. This place was a weird mix of western and modern. You were about to say a ‘yeehaw’ sarcastically when an actual man dressed in a cowboy hat and dressed in all leather shouted from his place at the bar.

“Hey, Yeosang, you found Heart!” The cowboy shouted.

“Yeah but she doesn’t know who she is!” Yeosang lamented.

Another man walked down the stairs of the back of the saloon, eyes serious and calculating. “It had to be the Government, only they would attempt to brainwash the Princess of Heart of this world.”

Your eyes went wide and you gasped. Wait, you were a Princess of Heart?

“You know what that means?” Yeosang asked.

“Listen, this is gonna sound weird, but this is a video game,” you tried to explain.

“This is not a game,” the man in all leather growled, scowling at you from under his hat.

“Mingi, calm down, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Yeosang stood in front of you, protecting you.

Mingi scowled down at you despite Yeosang’s interference. “Listen, just because you dick her down, doesn’t mean--”

“Yeosang!” The smaller man held onto Yeosang’s arm, that had just shot out and punched Mingi. Mingi was now down on the floor, licking the corner of his mouth where he was bleeding.

“I’m sorry, Hongjoong, but I won’t allow him to talk to her like that.” Yeosang shook his hand, as if to rid his skin of the feeling of his punch to Mingi. 

“She can’t stay here. If the Government starts looking for her, they will start here,” Hongjoong mused out loud. 

“I’ll take her to the chili lab.” Yeosang nodded resolutely. 

“I’m… sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused,” you said in a small voice.

Hongjoong helped Mingi up, patted him on the shoulder sympathetically but smiled reassuringly at you. “You're the heart of this world, we’d do anything for you, even though SOME OF US are jealous we aren’t as close to you as we’d like to be.” Mingi’s shoulders stiffened but still he walked to the bar to get a drink. 

“Come on, Heart, I better take you to a place where you’re more safe. Who knows when and where they’ll strike next.” Yeosang guided you out of the saloon, shooting one last glare at Mingi’s back. 

At the oddly named Chili Lab, you encountered Seonghwa, who couldn't quite understand that you didn’t remember anything but was very nice to you anyways. Yeosang swept you up quickly to a room when you seemed quite dazed as Seonghwa talked to you. “Some things never change,” He muttered under his breath. 

You sat in a room that seemed familiar but you couldn't quite put your finger on what made it so comfortable. “Is this my room?” You wondered.

“No, I didn’t want to bombard you in case your brain just needs some time to catch up,” Yeosang admitted. He knelt at your feet, and gathered your hands in your lap. “Heart…”

You cocked your head curiously at him. “Yes?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” He admitted, his head bowed over your hands.

“You won’t lose me, Yeosang,” You said softly, “We’re connected, my heart to yours.” You gasped, not sure where that response came from.

Yeosang raised his head, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. “How can you say that and also claim you have no idea who I am, or who you are?”

Your hand went to the left side of your chest, over where your heart would be. “I don’t know.”

Yeosang bit down on his lip, seemingly hesitating between a decision. His resolve solidified and then he cupped your face and kissed you softly. “Maybe I can help your memory a little bit…” he said before kissing you again. You melted into his kisses, gentle yet firm. His lips travelled from yours to scattered kisses along your jawline and down your neck. 

“Seonghwa said you guys were up here, Heart--oh! Am I interrupting something?” A man in a white tank top and shiny pants breathed heavily like he just had run up some stairs and looked ridiculously nosy at the door of Yeosang’s room.

Yeosang sent a look to the man who interrupted and you could have sworn it would have killed someone. The man gulped and scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Sangie, but we gotta go. There’s some weird white mask boss in front of the school. I think the students are in trouble. We gotta go fight!”

“But Heart…” Yeosang frowned down at you, hands still cupping your face fondly.

The man at the door gave a look of confusion. “Heart can take care of herself? In fact, the amount of times I’ve had to hold her off of wielding her weapon on Wooyoung is countless. What’s going on here?”

Something scratched at the back of your brain. A fuzzy image of a keyblade, brown with wood instead of metal, with flowers carved and painted, wielded from a necklace you had. You put a hand to your chest and found a wooden tulip hanging from a string of leather around your neck. Had that been there the entire time?

That’s how you found yourself standing before the same tall tower you saw off in the distance when you had woken up on the asphalt. Eight men stood beside you, in various black outfits, with Yeosang’s over jacket practically falling off his shoulder. He nodded resolutely at you and focused on the huge masked white Heartless before the school. 

With a shout of rage at the situation, the one before you and your internal strife, your keyblade materialized in your hands and you rushed with the eight men on either side of you. This felt right, this felt good. Whether you remembered your true self or not, what truly mattered was that you fought for what was good, with Yeosang beside you. You raised your blade to swipe at the first Heartless and--

You woke up groggy and bleary-eyed, blinking up at your Outlaw poster of Ateez on your wall. The music to Kingdom Hearts was still playing. You sighed heavily. Another dream that you lowkey wished had been reality. Did your brain really have to play you like that? 

Except your hand went to your chest and found your keyblade necklace still hanging from your neck. Was that something from real life bleeding into your dreams or were your dreams finally bleeding into your reality? 

“Yeosang,” You said quietly, looking out your window to the rain pattering down the pane of glass. “Where are you?”

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompts used in this chapter: "did you bring your gun?" - sentiment - love

The boys are leaving 221B to spend some days at Sherlock’s parents. If John’s anxious about meeting them again? Not particularly, but he observes that he’s misjudged one of them quite profoundly.

December 23

They have an early breakfast at Mrs. Hudson’s before they leave for the train station. Gifts are exchanged and the elderly lady wishes them Happy Christmas when they kiss her goodbye. 

They avoid the busy hours and arrive only twenty minutes before their train to Bexley, where Mr. Holmes will pick them up for the ten-minute drive to Wilmington. 

“Did you bring your gun?” Sherlock asks John after he’s placed their luggage into the boot of Mr. Holmes’ car. 

John chuckles, shakes his head and interlaces his fingers with Sherlock’s when they’re settled in the back seat. Sherlock grunts displeased, but the kiss he places on John’s palm, speaks another truth. 

Mr. Holmes asks about Mrs. Hudson and both their works and tells Sherlock news about some of their neighbours. John learns that Holmes senior is quite the observer. When John lifts a questioning eyebrow at Sherlock, he only shrugs but his smile is fond and proud. 

Mrs. Holmes is a whirlwind compared to her husband, and greets them with hugs, kisses and endless questions, while simultaneously making omelettes and dressing for the salad. John watches her in conversation with her youngest son and is soon joined by Sherlock’s father. 

“He’s so much like his mother,” the elderly Holmes tells John. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Mr. Holmes. I think Sherlock’s got his observation skills from elsewhere,” John retorts mildly. 

And the adorable blushing when being praised, John notices. 

It’s no secret that Violet Holmes, the mathematician professor, is a highly intelligent woman, but her husband, who’s just an ordinary teacher without the professor title, is far from an idiot. He’s astute, eloquent, and has a warm sense of humour, which makes him easy to talk to. Most of what Sherlock and his mother speak about, doesn’t make any sense to John whatsoever. 

***

“Has anyone told you about your resemblance to your father?” John asks Sherlock after they’ve gone to bed that night. 

Sherlock’s nuzzled into the crook of John’s neck, his favourite way of cuddling, and he rarely gives up the position, but now he almost knocks John’s jaw when he jerks his head up in surprise. 

“My father? Never. I’ve always been told by everyone who knows us, I’m reminiscent of my mother,” Sherlock declares, but there’s a hint of insecurity after John’s question. 

“Don’t get so worked up, love. Come lie down again, and I’ll tell you what I’ve noticed today,” John says fondly. 

Sherlock seems quite satisfied when John’s finished telling him about his observations, if his hums and warm kisses are any indicators. 

“Father’s always so quiet compared to Mummy, and he seems truly satisfied playing second violin, so to speak,” Sherlock muses. 

John agrees and concludes that Sherlock’s parents remind him quite a lot of himself and Sherlock. 

Read it on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @sabsi221b @gregorovitchworld @raina-at @helloliriels @peanitbear

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 12: The Ride

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Despite having been married for four years, the dynamic between you and Jake still carried the fresh, explorative energy of newlyweds. The nature of your lives had meant you'd scarcely had the opportunity to deeply acquaint yourselves with each other's everyday realities. Riding together across these fields brought back a flood of pleasant memories, a reminder of the shared experiences that had initially drawn you closer while you were dating.

You closed your eyes and leaned further into Jake, embracing the comfort of his presence. You felt him skillfully switch the reins to one hand, and with his now-free arm, he wrapped it around you, pulling you closer into his embrace as the horse continued its gentle pace:

"I so needed this after today's test," you remarked, feeling the tension of the day start to ebb away as Jake guided the horse through the tranquil field.

"I bet. I wish I could bring a horse with me to my training," Jake mused, his voice carrying a hint of longing.

You couldn't help but grin at the thought, the image of Jake and a horse at his military training painting a humorous and endearing picture in your mind. "That would definitely be an interesting sight on a military installation," you replied, the amusement clear in your voice.

You felt Jake chuckle. "Yeah. It would be."

The memory faded away as the soft, soothing sounds of flowing water reached your ears, prompting you to open your eyes. Jake had guided the horse to the creek, a serene spot that held memories and promised a moment of peaceful reflection.

"Do you remember this place?" Jake inquired, his voice tinged with nostalgia as the horse came to a gentle stop near the water's edge.

"How could I forget?" You responded, a warm grin spreading across your face at the memory. This was where he had taken you for a picnic, a moment that had become one of your cherished memories together.

You felt Jake gently nudge the horse, prompting it to resume its walk along the edge of the creek, the tranquil sound of water accompanying your peaceful ride.

Around one bend, there was a small sandy area. As you came around that bend, you saw a blanket spread out and a small basket set up, awaiting your arrival with an air of planned surprise nestled against the backdrop of the creek's gentle flow.

You sat up straighter when you caught sight of the setup. "Jake," you said, your voice filled with happy surprise, and you could feel his smile against your back, radiating warmth and affection.

When you arrived at the spot, Jake smoothly dismounted the horse and secured it to a nearby tree. He then turned back to you, extending his hand to help you down with a gentle smile.

After assisting you in dismounting the horse, Jake wrapped you in a close hug and peered into your eyes. "What's your most vivid memory of this spot?"

You blushed. "Do I have to give you just one?"

He chuckled softly, the sound mingling with the rustling leaves around you, and his eyes sparkled with an invitation to share more than just a single memory.

"Alright," he conceded, his voice a gentle nudge to your comfort zone, "give me as many as you like. But start with the one that means the most to you."

"First off, this is where you gave me our first kiss."

His smile widened. "You mean like this?" He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, prompting you to close your eyes. The kiss was tender, affectionate, and filled with love.

The world around you seemed to pause, the only reality that mattered was the warmth of Jake's lips against yours, the gentle pressure that spoke volumes of the years spent in silent longing, now given voice in this single, perfect moment.

As Jake pulled back, the world came rushing back in a dizzying array of colors and sounds, but none of it could compare to the clarity you found in his gaze. It was as if you were seeing each other for the first time, the veil of familiarity lifted to reveal the truth of your feelings laid bare.

"That's exactly what I meant," you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips.

"You brought me here for a romantic picnic once," you reminisced, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as the memory enveloped you in its warm embrace.

Jake's eyes lit up with the recollection, a mix of nostalgia and affection dancing within their depths. He grasped your hand, his touch gentle yet filled with purpose, guiding you toward the blanket laid out on the ground.

As you both settled onto the blanket, the softness of the sand beneath seemed to welcome you, a familiar comfort that whispered of lazy afternoons spent in each other's company.

Jake opened the picnic basket, revealing an assortment of your favorite foods, each selection a reminder of past conversations and shared moments. There was the cheese you'd discovered on a whim during a weekend getaway, the wine you'd both enjoyed on a quiet evening under the stars, and an assortment of fruits and sweets that spoke to the many tastes and textures of your relationship. A smile spread across your face as you surveyed the selection of cheese. An interesting tidbit about Jake: he despised cheese, never touching it himself, yet he always made sure to include it for you, knowing well how much you enjoyed it.

He uncorked the wine bottle, carefully filled a glass, and then offered it to you. As his fingers brushed against yours while passing the glass, a familiar shiver of excitement coursed through you.

"Anything else?" he inquired, a playful glint in his green eyes.

You took a sip of your wine, holding his gaze firmly. "This is where we made love for the first time."

He reached out with his unoccupied hand, and you handed over your wine glass to him. Afterwards, he carefully took off his cowboy hat and placed it softly on the blanket next to him, letting out a soft sigh.

"You're right. Since we lost the baby, I haven't really cared about anyone but myself. I chose paths that I believed were right to protect you, but they weren't enough, and I almost lost you in the process," he confessed, eyes downcast to the blanket, idly twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he added, "For that, I am deeply sorry. I can't express it any more sincerely than that."

The weight of Jake's confession hung in the air, a palpable presence that momentarily stilled the gentle rhythm of the creek around you. His words, raw and unguarded, cut through the tranquility, reaching deep into the core of your shared pain—a pain that had, until now, been a silent specter in your relationship.

The loss of the baby was a wound that had never fully healed, a shadow that followed both of you, often unspoken but always felt. You saw the burden of his guilt in the slump of his shoulders, the way his hands trembled slightly as he played with the blade of grass, a simple action betraying his inner turmoil.

His admission, sincere and heartfelt, bridged the distance that grief had imposed between you. In his eyes, you saw not just the apology but the love and the fear of losing what was most precious to him—you.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not just for the loss you both shared, but for the love that remained, resilient and enduring despite the trials it had faced. You reached across the blanket, your hand covering his, stilling the nervous movement. "Jake," you whispered his name and squeezed his hand, a silent reassurance, a promise of solidarity.

Jake's eyes, glistening with unshed tears, held yours, a mirror to the depth of emotion you both shared. In that moment, at the creek, with its beauty and tranquility, became a sanctuary, a place where wounds could be acknowledged, where healing could begin.

"I love you," he whispered, the words carried on a breeze, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. "And I promise, from this moment on, to be not just your partner, but your ally, your confidant, and your greatest supporter. We'll face whatever comes our way, together."

His promise, straightforward yet significant, served as a soothing comfort to your spirit. Leaning in, your foreheads met, allowing you to share a breath, a moment of connection and comprehension. You then cradled his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his, as tears began to trace down your cheeks.

The kiss began with a tone of forgiveness and apology but soon escalated into a hungered and fevered passion. You separated briefly, breathing heavy.

You reached out, starting to unbutton his shirt, gently tugging it free from his jeans. With the shirt removed, he was left in just a white tank top, his dog tags resting beneath.

Jake's gaze was intense as you ran your hands across his muscular build. It was the first time you found yourself truly taking in the details of your husband's physique. You lifted the tank top over his head, revealing his slightly hairy chest with the dog tags dangling in the middle.

You kissed him once more, this time with renewed passion. Your hands explored his chest and abs, sensing the strength in his body. Your right hand then cradled the side of his face.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured between kisses, tears streaking down his cheeks.

"I know, Jake. I know," you replied, offering comfort and understanding in your words.

You both pulled away, locking eyes, sharing a moment of deep connection and mutual understanding.

Jake reached out, his fingers carefully working to unbutton your plaid shirt, freeing it from where it was tucked into your jeans. You then removed it and casually tossed it aside.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and admiration. His hands traced your arms as if it was the most precious treasure in the world.

You reached down, pulling the tank top over your head, and added it to the pile with your shirt, leaving your naked breasts exposed.

He gazed at you, his eyes brimming with desire and admiration. "I need you, Y/N. Just as much as you need me."

You stood up, kicked off your cowboy boots and then slowly started to unbutton you jeans.

His eyes followed your every move, his breath catching in his throat as you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your jeans and pushed them down, revealing a pair of lacy tan panties.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of your smooth skin. You stepped out of you jeans and walked over to him, your hips swaying seductively. He couldn't help but reach out and touch you, running his fingers over your soft skin and feeling the heat radiating from you.

Jake got onto his knees, hooking a finger onto your underwear and pulling you to him.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire. You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin as he slowly kissed up your thighs, stopping just short of your mound. He teased you, kissing and licking all around but never quite touching the spot that was begging for attention.

Every time he came close to that spot, your breath quivered, sending your heart into a race filled with anticipation.

He could feel your need, and he loved it. He loved the way you writhed beneath him, the way your hips bucked against his mouth as he continued to tease you. He could hear your moans of frustration, and it only made him want to drive you crazy even more.

He then kissed your stomach, a moan escaping your mouth.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion, as he looked up at you, grabbing your panties and pulling them down for you to step out of them.

You knelt down and held his face gently in your hands, your lips met his in a kiss. While kissing him, your hands trailed down his chest, reaching his jeans, where you began to slowly unbuckle his belt.

You broke the kiss and looked at him with sultry eyes. You slowly unzipped his jeans, and pulled them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, hard and ready.

Sitting back on your heels, you then reclined onto the blanket, eyes on Jake as he quickly removed his jeans and boxers. Before you knew it, he was hovering above you, gazing into your eyes.

You smiled at him, and he lowered his head to yours. He kissed you passionately as you ran your hands down his back. He moaned into your mouth as you gently scratched his back.

He broke the kiss and moved down your body, stopping at your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently. You moaned as he continued to suck on it, then he continued to the other one. He sucked on that one too, running his tongue over it before moving back up to your neck.

"Jake," you moaned. "I want you inside me."

Jake smiled at you and then positioned himself between your legs. He ran his cock up and down your slit, teasing you. You whimpered in frustration, wanting him to just shove it in already. Finally he gave in and you moaned as he slid into you, filling you up. He slowly began to move in and out of you, savoring the feeling of your pussy around his cock. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you. He moaned as he felt your pussy clench around him, and he began to move faster. You cried out in pleasure, your body arching up to meet his thrusts.

He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue plunging into your mouth as his cock plunged into you. You moaned into his mouth, your body shaking with pleasure as your orgasm hit. He felt you tighten around him and he came.

He collapsed on top of you, his cock still inside you, but he looked at you, sincerity in his gaze. "I'm sorry."

You brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. "I know." Then, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close to hold him tightly. "I forgive you." You kissed the top of his head that rested on your chest.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891

[drabblesandimagines]

Kitty (part 9)

Parts 1-8 here. Rei x (afab) reader, usual fluff but also... Warnings: Implied gun violence, kidnapping, blood, panic attacks

This chapter is suuuper long, so buckle up! --

Kazuki and Rei get assigned some reconnaissance work from Kyu that takes place over the weekend and into the early week. You reassure the blonde you’re perfectly happy to watch over Miri whilst they’re out, keeping her entertained and fed as they spend the next three days on the job. They’re up early and back late, but Rei sends you sweet text messages to check in whenever he can.

It’s now early Tuesday afternoon – Kazuki dropped off the information to Kyu this morning, and you’re working on the breakfast and lunch dishes with Kazuki. Rei is tackling the folding of the laundry, though Kazuki is keeping a close eye.

As you dip a pan in the hot, soapy water, a sharp pain shoots through your head and you let go, instinctively rubbing the side of your head when you flinch – it’s the telltale beginning of a headache.

“You okay there, Kitty?” Kazuki questions, a cloth in hand as he dries. You nod your head, continuing the therapeutic scrubbing of the pans but he’s leaning forward now, trying to get a good look at you. “You’re looking a little flush.”

The back of his hand is suddenly pressed on your forehead. “Huh, you’re feeling a little bit warm too.”

“A fever?” Rei questions over his shoulder.

You shake your head, “No, I f-feel okay,” but another pain twinges through your head, ruining your performance. The two men stare at you. “OK, maybe m-my head hurts a l-little, b-but it’s f-fine.”

Kazuki side-steps between you and the sink now and hands you a cloth to dry off your hands. “Go sit down. I’ll get the thermometer.”

You nod, walking around the counter to go sit on the couch, unsure why but it’s obvious that Kazuki isn’t going to let you bluff your way out of it. You’d always worked through illnesses in the past, he was hardly going to give you a day off.

Moments later, Kazuki is kneeling down in front of you, asking you to stick the thermometer under your tongue. There’s a beep and he muses over the results, Rei hovering over his shoulder. “Temperature’s running a little high, but only a little. I still think it’s the beginning of a fever. It must be something from daycare, Ms Anna warned there was something going around.”

“Should we go to hospital?”

Kazuki smiles at his room-mate’s concern. “It’s just a bug, no need for that.” The blonde gets to his feet, clearing a path in front of you. “Go on, to bed with you. I’ll send Rei up with some medication in a minute, okay?”

“B-bed?”

“Yep – you need to rest. Go on.”

“B-but I can finish the d-dishes first…” You frowned at the counter.

“You’re sick.” Kazuki stressed. “Pyjamas on, in bed, rest.”

“Go on, Kitty. I can do them.” Rei nods, hoping that might encourage you to listen.

“Okay. Just f-for a b-bit.” You hold the railing as you go up the stairs, knowing that every step is being scrutinized.

By the time you’ve changed into your pyjamas – an activity that seems to make you feel more warm than anything else – and got in the bed, Rei arrives with a tray in hand, balancing a glass, pitcher of water and a box of medication, looking concerned. “Kazuki says to take two of these – that’ll it help with the temperature and the headache.” He places it down on the bedside table before removing the tablets from the box, popping out two and holding them out to you.

You’d be skeptical of taking them if it wasn’t Rei offering them to you. You pop them in your mouth and wash them down with water, leaning back into the pillows.

“I r-really don’t f-feel that bad…”

When Rei was young and sick, Boss made him run. Sweat it out, boy. All he’d wanted to do was sleep, but he wasn’t permitted a day off training for such a trivial thing as a fever. He has a job to do, it’s not going to wait, and Boss said working through it would only strengthen his immune system. He’d been sick once soon after Kazuki had moved in – he’d blamed the blonde for bringing his germs in – and Kazuki had manhandled him into his actual bed, got him to drink some disgusting medicine, put a wet cloth on his forehead – he had to admit that bit had been nice - and promised him unlimited ramen cups if he’d remain in the bed the rest of the day and night. Hell, the man had even stayed besides him, switching over the cloths periodically, getting him to drink more medicine, watching him like a hawk.

The next day he had felt much better, he had to admit.

“I know,” Rei kneels down besides the bed, “but better to be cautious. Just rest a bit - for me, okay?”

You’ve been getting better at saying no, but how can you say no to that face?

“Okay,” you mumble, shuffling down in the bed a little. “Are y-you r-really going to w-wash the dishes?”

“Kazuki started doing them as soon as I headed up here. Said we still need to work on a ‘proper scrubbing technique’, apparently.” Rei huffs. “Why are you so worried about the dishes?”

“I’m n-not,” you avoid eye contact, staring at the bed covers.

“Kitty…”

“I w-want to e-earn m-m-my place.”

“Earn?” He frowns.

“Y-yeah. I d-don’t h-have a-any m-m-money or a j-job and I k-k-know Zuki is a-always k-keeping a c-close eye on the b-b-budget and I’m an ad-ad-added ex-expense”, you’re growing flustered, your breath catches in your throat and your stutter is out of control. You dig your nails into your palms, “so the l-least I c-can d-do is c-clean a-and…”

Rei’s hand is now on your cheek, tilting your head to face him. “Breathe,” he reminds, gently. Looking in his eyes grounds you for a moment and you nod, inhaling deeply and purposefully.

“You don’t need to earn anything here. What’s mine is yours, okay? I don’t even need to ask Kazuki to know he’d say the same. Plus, he’s the original couch crasher, so that position’s already taken.” He jokes.

“I w-want to b-be useful, h-have a p-p-purpose…”

“You are and you do, and we can figure out some things when you’re feeling better. But, for right now, I just need you to rest. Please?”

You nod, a little shakily, before laying down fully. It is nice to be lying down.

“Thank you.” He gets up to his feet and pulls the blinds down, blocking out the early afternoon sun.

“C-can you s-stay f-for a bit?”

“Of course.” He returns to the space besides the bed, leaning up against the bedside table. “Close your eyes, I’ll be here.” He lays his hand on top of yours, gently before he withdraws his phone with his other hand, muting the volume and loading up a game. You close your eyes – your head hurts less so with the darkened room. You could just lay like this for a while, right? Then the headache will pass and you can get up and get on with the housework, just lay there for a little longer, listening to Rei tap away at the phone screen…

--

“Come on,” Kazuki whispers. “We haven’t picked Miri up together in a while. Kitty’ll be fine – she’ll probably sleep better without you hovering over her.”

Rei nods, getting up from his vigil. He hadn’t wanted to leave you really in case you needed anything, but Kazuki is probably right. It isn’t a long trip to the daycare, at least, and you do seem pretty asleep now. He leans over you to brush some hair out of your eyes, noting you still feel a little clammy. He grabs hold of the lion he got you from the zoo – it’s lived in your bed ever since – and tucks it into your arms.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” He murmurs, before leaving the room quietly and pulling the door to behind him.

--

You wake up a few hours later, a dull pain in your head but nothing as bad as earlier. You sit up and reach over to the bedside table, taking a swig of water from the glass, before getting to your feet. The alarm clock suggests you’ve been asleep for over three hours and Miri should be home from daycare and you get to your feet, hoping Kazuki and Rei will deem that enough of a rest to let you help out with the evening activities. Your bedroom door is slightly ajar and you hear Miri squeal – she’s usually quite excited when she first gets home but this level seems new. You wince, the noise sending a sharp pain through your head as you approach the door.

You then hear a distinctly female voice, followed by Kazuki. That’s different. Unexpected. There’s a short sentence that you recognize as Rei, then Miri giggling. You push the door shut, softly, unsure what to do. You think hard, trying to remember any female friend that they’ve mentioned before, but nothing springs to mind. You’re also not sure what rules there are, if any, around guests. They’d never had guests before. He always had guests – don’t talk unless spoken to (that one soon became unnecessary), show them respect, serve them as you would him. You turn and climb back into the bed and wait.

Downstairs, the little girl clocks your absence.

“Papas, where’s Kitty?” Miri frowns.

“You have a cat?” Misaki asks, politely.

“No.” Kazuki grunts. “She’s… a guest. Kitty wasn’t feeling very well, Miri, she’s resting in bed.”

“Oh, poor Kitty.” Miri frowns. But then her attention span drifts as she sees her pile of drawings, dragging her mother over to look.

“I should go check on her.” Rei suggests, getting up from the sofa but Kazuki grabs hold of his arm as he tries to walk past and pulls him back, hissing in his ear, “You are not leaving me alone with this woman, who knows what I’ll do?! I’ll go, you stay.” Rei pouts a little. He doesn’t want to be left alone either.

Kazuki knocks on the door gently and he finds you sitting up in the bed, looking nervous.

“H-hi.”

“How are you feeling?” He steps in and closes the door. You can tell his mind is preoccupied though.

“A l-little b-b-better, thanks.” You lie. “I w-would’ve come down b-but I heard so-somebody e-else and…” You don’t finish, feeling a little cowardly.

“Mm. Yeah, we have a ‘guest’. She’s called Misaki and she’s… Well, she’s Miri’s mother.”

You frown. “I t-t-thought…”

“Me too.” Kazuki sighs, leaning against the closed door. “Misaki seems to have had a change of heart. She wants to take Miri back.”

“Oh.”

“Can she do that? It’s been nearly a year. She just… She let her travel across the whole city on her own with nothing but a letter and an envelope of photos. She can’t just demand to take her back, can she?”

“I… I’m n-not sure.” You wish you could comfort Kazuki better. “You’ll n-need to s-sit and t-talk p-properly.”

“I know, I just don’t want to.” He sighs. “Do you feel up for coming downstairs? Miri was asking for you.”

You don’t really want to, but you do for Miri and Kazuki’s sake. You nod, getting out of the bed, grab the black zip up hoody and pull it over your pyjamas, following the blonde out the bedroom door.

When you get downstairs Misaki is nowhere to be seen, but Miri is delighted to see you, cuddling up against your legs. “Kitty, Mama’s here! Well, she was here, but she’s coming back. She’s going to make us dinner!”

“T-that’s exciting.” You smile, warmly.

“Are you feeling any better?” Rei stands besides you, scrutinizing your face.

You nod, give him a smile and lower your voice. “Is Z-Zuki okay?”

“Not particularly.” He shrugs. “We need to keep calm in front of Miri though. Are you sure you’re feeling better? Come on, sit down.”

A little while later, the buzzer goes.

“Do I have to let her back in?” Kazuki grumbles, but Miri has already sprinted to the front door and is jumping up and down, waiting for Kazuki to let her mama back in. He frowns as he sees her laden with shopping bags in hand, informing that she’s going to make Miri’s favourite dinner.

“Oh…” She smiles at you, unsure, looking you up and down. You wish you’d got changed out of your pyjamas. “Hello, I’m Misaki.”

“Mama, this is Kitty!” Miri beams, giddy with excitement to have all her favourite adults in one place.

“Oh, yes, the, er, guest?”

“Yes. H-h-hi.” There’s the look – the one you always get when you stutter. “N-nice to m-meet y-you.”

“What’s all this?” Kazuki asks, gesturing to the plastic bags in Misaki’s hands - thankfully ending this awkward interaction.

“Oh, well, I’m going to make Hamburg steak. I’m afraid I’ll have to use your kitchen…”

--

Dinner is awkward. There isn’t enough steak for everyone – Misaki only buying four – but that’s okay, you reassure, your appetite is a little off and you’re happy with rice and vegetables. Then there’s not enough chairs at the table, so you offer to sit elsewhere. Kazuki mutters that Misaki should offer to sit elsewhere, like in her own home for one, she’s the one imposing…

You can hear the stilted conversation - Kazuki getting upset as both Miri and Rei compliment the store-bought steak, but Miri is happy to have her papas and mama all together. You’re knelt down besides the coffee table with your dinner, trying your best to not feel excluded. You’d ate worse places and you’d offered, after all…

Rei comes and sits with you on the sofa after dinner, asking if you’re okay, squeezing your hand. You nod – it’s not like Misaki is moving in, you reason in your head, you’ll get your place back. Kazuki is mumbling angrily under his breath as he wipes the dining table, Miri and Misaki working together on the dishes. Miri is telling her mother about how they’re going to sing Silent Night at the daycare’s Christmas party. It’s clear how much Miri loves her mama, but you’ve seen how much the little girl adores Kazuki and Rei too. Not long after the dishes are complete, Miri jumps up besides you on the sofa with a loud yawn when Misaki visits the bathroom and in the time it takes her to return, Miri is snoring happily away. Seeing this, Kazuki takes his chance.

“Talk.” The blonde orders, sitting down at the table and pointing at a chair for Misaki to take.

“Can we do it in, er, private?” She asks, sitting down. You look down at Miri – maybe she hasn’t realized she’s asleep? But when you look up to clarify, you realize she’s looking at you.

“Kitty stays, she’s part of this family too.” Rei replies in a tense tone. You avert your eyes again, looking back at Miri sleeping peacefully on the couch. You’re not sure how this conversation is going to go – you know Kazuki is finding it difficult already and maybe tempers will fray. Miri is a solid sleeper… but, still, you’d hate for her to wake up to find her mama and papas having heated words.

“It’s o-o-okay. I’m f-f-feeling a l-l-little t-tired, so w-why don’t I t-t-take Miri up t-to b-bed?” You suggest. What would you add to the discussion anyway? You worry that you being there will give Misaki ammo, somehow. What are you exposing my daughter to?

“Are you sure?” Kazuki asks and you nod, perhaps a little too eagerly. “Okay, thank you.”

You gently pick the little girl up and she unconsciously snuggles into your arms. Three pairs of eyes of eyes linger on you as you walk up the spiral stairs, padding into Miri’s room and tucking her into her own bed. When you exit, you can hear Kazuki finding it difficult to contain his anger, but you head straight into your room, closing the door to behind you and climbing into bed, cuddling your lion to your chest.

--

“Run!” A voice demands. “Run…!” It’s your father, of course that’s your father’s voice – how could you have forgotten? He repeats it again, but this time, he says your name, or what you think is your name. The thing is, it’s muffled, almost as you’re underwater – you can’t make it out but you know that’s what he’s saying. Why can’t your brain comprehend it? “Run!” You know, somehow, he doesn’t mean out the front door, so you head to the one at the rear of the property – the one that overlooks the woodland. There’s screeching tyres from the front but you don’t look back. The ground is unsteady and you stumble over roots, branches scratching at your legs. It’s muddy – it’s not ideal for running and your shoes are getting stuck in the mud, you’re clumsy, you’re causing a racket. Why are you running? Where are you running to?

You trip, crashing into the ground, mud splatters up on your face. You know there’s no time to waste – your father’s tone had been desperate - so you grasp above you head blindly, trying to find purchase on a branch or a trunk or a rock. You manage to get back up to your feet, but there’s a sharp twinge in your ankle – you must’ve twisted it in the fall. You stagger forward but it’s useless, you’ve lost your momentum, you’ve lost the little bearings you’ve had, but still you limp forward. There’s a racket growing behind you and you try to increase your pace. Your ankle burns with every step, the mud seems to be grow stickier, pulling back at your feet every time you lift them. Pathetic. An arm grabs you around the waist, and you elbow back, demanding they get off you but you know it’s over then. They’re so much stronger – your elbows don’t even make them flinch.

Your wrists are pulled tightly behind your back, feeling like they’re trying to pull your shoulders out of their sockets. Something’s looped around them – a zip tie? – and tightened until it feels like it’s cutting deep into your skin. You’re span round and you get a glimpse of a face – not one you recognize - before you’re thrown over your assailant’s shoulder. They grumble at the state of you, the mud from your fall now sullying their suit.

You struggle but it’s pointless. Fingers pinch into your thighs as they begin to walk back to the house with you, or at least you think they are. It’s hard to tell, the way you’re being held means you can see nothing but the back of your captor. He’s looped an arm through your bound arms to keep you snug against him, and every jostle the restraints cut into your skin more. You know you’re not screaming – you know there’s no-one around here for miles.

You’re back inside the house now, but the room smells different – tangy, bloody…

You’re dropped down on the floor, opposite your father. His nose is bloody, his eye is blackening rapidly. You stare at him but you don’t say a word. Someone new enters the room and you look down at the ground.

“Aktomi, please.” Your father pleads, “If you just give me a little more time…”

“I’ve given you plenty of time.” He replies. “You haven’t even begun to scrape the surface. I need to collect today.” A pair of well-polished shoes appear in your view and the newcomer crouches down in front of you. A hand grasps your chin and tilts it up so you have to make eye contact and you try and swallow back down your fear. “And when I came to collect, you sent the most valuable thing you have running out the door.”

“Please, sir, I beg of you. My mistakes are nothing to do with her. She has her whole life ahead of her…” Your father is on the verge of tears.

He’s still holding you by the chin, fingers digging into your jaw as he twists your face side to side. You don’t what to think what he’s looking for.

“How old is she?”

“19, sir. She’s a dutiful daughter. Ever since her mother died, she’s been so good to me. I don’t deserve her…”

“No, you don’t,” he lets go at last, seeming happy with his findings and gets to his feet. “Put her in the car.”

“What?” You gasp, but you’re hoisted roughly off the ground, an arm looped through your bound wrists again, a hand grips hold of the back of your neck and forces your head down as you’re dragged out. You can’t get purchase on the ground to make a step, tripping over your own feet as they half-carry you. “Father!” You cry out, but it’s useless – you’re already out the door and up the footpath to the dirt road. Every step further they take you, you can hear your father plead and plead and plead… until there’s a solitary gunshot and you know.

There’s the sound of a door being opened and your neck is released, only for you then to be swept off your feet and dropped into the trunk of a car. You try and sit up but a hand pushes your shoulders firmly back down, causing your head to bang against the side console, making your vision swim. Then he appears, smiling at you.

“Enjoy the ride, sweetheart. I’ll decide how you can pay your father’s debts once we’re home.”

The world goes black.

Your eyes shoot open as you sit up, your breath already caught in your throat, covered in a cold sweat. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust – you’re in bed, you’re in Rei’s bedroom, you’re not in a car, you’re not back there… You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine - you try to reassure yourself but you have the sickening feeling once more of your breaths not being enough.

“Kitty?” The voice to your side startles you and you’re hyperventilating now, tears trickling down your cheeks and you’re gripping the bedsheet with both hands – willing yourself to just breathe but you can’t. Your head is trying to remember what Kazuki told you, breathing in and out for so many seconds, but you lose count and maybe you’re not breathing deep enough? Did it feel deeper last time? It’s not getting in.

Misaki had left a little while ago. Kazuki had stormed off to bed, but Rei couldn’t sleep. He wanted to see you, make sure you were okay, talk about what had occurred. The bedroom door had been slightly ajar when he’d got upstairs, so he’d poked his head in to find you tossing and turning in the sheets. He’d just made it to your side when you’d shot bolt-right up in the bed, panting.

He’s kneeling besides the bed now, pulling your hand from the bedsheet and gripping it tightly. He’s saying something but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart in your ears – why’s it so loud?  Rei is panicking too - should he get Kazuki? No, he doesn’t want to leave you on your own, not even for a moment. If he shouts for him, that’ll wake Miri too, surely. He takes a breath himself and tries to repeat what Kazuki told him but it’s soon clear you’re not focusing on him at all, staring blankly ahead of you as your eyes are damp with tears. He thinks back to his training – his instructor used to put his hand over his to adjust his positioning on various weapons, so maybe that could work here too. Could he get you to feel how he’s breathing? He gets to his feet and climbs behind you in the bed. His long legs are now either side of you and he reaches forward, grabbing your hands in each of his. He pulls you back and into his chest and he squeezes your hand one, two, three, four times as you feel him inhale behind you, his chest expanding. He’s exaggerating the movements, hoping to get through to you. One, two, three, four, he counts with a squeeze as he holds the breath. Another one, two, three, four as he releases the breath and starts the sequence again. You close your eyes and just try and focus on the rise and fall of his chest, mimicking the motion, and on the squeezes of his hands on yours. You don’t know how long it takes – minutes, hours? – but your breaths become deeper and calmer once more, returning to almost normal as Rei continues holding you tight, squeezing and breathing.

“Feeling better?” His voice murmurs in your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

You nod. “T-thank y-you.”

“No problem.” He hesitates briefly, before letting go of your hands. You immediately grab hold of his left arm, pulling it around your stomach. He tenses for a second but relaxes soon after.

“D-don’t g-g-go. P-please.”

“I won’t.” He soothes, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to, okay?”

You squeeze his hand, taking a shuddering breath. “N-ni-nightmare.” You confide before Rei can ask. He leans his head on your shoulder, wrapping his other arm around you without prompt, leaning back into the pillows. “A-about t-the n-n-night my f-father died. F-father, he… H-he was s-saying m-my n-n-name but I c-couldn’t h-hear it.”

“That must be frustrating. I’m sorry.”

You sit for a few moments, enjoying the grounding feeling of being wrapped in his arms as you continue to breathe in sync. As your thoughts begin to rationalize, you remember what had occurred before you’d fallen asleep.

“W-what happened with M-Misaki?”

“She’s got cancer. She doesn’t think she has long left to live.”

“Oh, t-that’s aw-awful.”

“Mm. She wants to live out the rest of her life with Miri, live her life now for Miri.” A pause. “She said she knows about our line of work, and that if we truly care about Miri, then we’d do what’s best for her.”

“T-that’s not f-fair.” Rei doesn’t reply, musing over it in his head. “What d-does Zuki t-think?”

“He didn’t say much – he just went to bed. I don’t know what we should do.”

You wish you knew the right thing to say, but you don’t. You know Kazuki and Rei love and adore Miri, they’ve done nothing but good for her. You don’t know much about Misaki’s life, but Miri obviously adored her so she can’t have been a terrible mother. Then again, how could a mother send their little girl out alone…?

“S-sleep on it.” You suggest. “Everyone’s e-emotions a-are high. S-sleep w-will help.”

You feel him nod on your shoulder. “And you, will you be able to sleep?”

“I… I d-don’t k-know.” You bite your lip. “I… I don’t want you to go.”

“I won’t go. I told you, I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

You close your eyes.

--

The first conscious thought is there’s a sharp burst vibration on his right leg. It’s signaling a text. The second is he has his arms wrapped around you, spooning you into the wall and he’s in your bed. It’s pleasant – your breathing is steady and you feel so soft and warm… There’s another vibration against his leg. He carefully removes his arm from around you to retrieve his phone – his other one will have to remain trapped under your sleeping form for now.

He turns away as he unlocks the device, not wanting the light from it to cast on your face. It’s a number he doesn’t have saved, which makes his gut sink because it can only mean one thing.

Boss wants to see you – immediately.

It’s a little after 6am – Boss has always been an early riser. It hasn’t been that long since he last saw him on his birthday, but so much has happened in that time. He was meant to be tying up loose ends, but then you came along and… Well, dominated his thoughts.

Rei slides his arm out from under you but you abruptly turn, mumbling in your sleep. He freezes, he doesn’t want to wake you up because of the Boss of all things. He spots the plush lion and presses it under your arm. You sigh, squeezing it and your breathing returns to its steady state.

He know he’s stealthy – it was a large part of his training, after all - but it doesn’t feel right to get changed whilst you’re in the room. He gathers up the necessary pieces of his suit and heads towards the door, pausing briefly to glance back at you and smile.

He dresses in the bathroom, checking his appearance in the mirror as he ties up his hair. He puts a change of clothes in a bag – the suit’s been feeling more constrictive recently, and not due to Kazuki’s cooking, so he doesn’t want to wear it longer than necessary. He’s halfway to the front door when he turns back, finds a scrap of paper and leaves a note on the dining table.

Taken the car. Back later – Rei.

--

Comments, likes, reblogs and follows much appreciated <3 EDIT: Part 10 here.

[sochawrites]

Can you please do an rimmer x fem reader fluff or the episode the gun men of the apocalypse where reader and rimmer are dating.

Sure I can! And why not kind of both?

I am so, so, so sorry it took me so long to write this, it has been a very weird year and I just could not manage to put aside some time to write. I can't promise 2024 will be better, but we all can hope, no?

I hope this is at least a bit satisfactory to you, dear anon, or any of you souls, still lurking around looking for some RD content.

What do you guys say on the news about Red Dwarf: Titan? I was there when they screened the teaser trailer, if one would call it that, and honestly? I'm pretty excited!

Also happy Holidays!

Adrenaline

Arnold Rimmer x Fem!reader

None of you could help but cheer as Starbug flew away from the burning moon, escaping certain doom once again. You were slowly getting used to these situations, but near-death experiences are still near-death experiences and while you tried to focus your mind on the fact that you were alive, your body and nerves were of a different idea.

You were shaking in your seat, gripping the handles and hardly holding back the maniacal laughter of survival. You had enough adrenaline for today, it would probably be better for you to go and calm down, maybe even lay down before you start to crash.

Pulling yourself up on your shaky knees, you excused yourself and stumbled to your room, almost falling on the way out of the control room. Fortunately out of the sight of others, or so you thought. You slowly made your way up the stairs to the sleeping quarters, painfully unaware of the pair of concerned eyes watching you.

Deciding the bed would be the best place to crash onto, you crashed into a much more closer chair, back turned to the door and closed your eyes shut. You were breathing heavily and the sound of the ship was being drowned out by the buzz and thuds in your ears.

A knock caught your attention, albeit barely. "Permission to enter?", you hummed in response, knowing fully well your hologram boyfriend would not take no for an answer and not having enough strength to speak. There was a pause before Rimmer went into the room, but as soon as he did, he cautiously made his way towards you. You could only imagine him looming over you as he tapped on your shoulder.

"I brought you some water," Rimmer announced to you nonchalantly, leaving the glass beside you. You thanked him as you reached for the liquid with both of your shaking hands, but you were positive he barely heard you.

"That was quite a ride, wasn't it? The adrenaline, the thrill!" Rimmer walked around as if giving you an inspirational speech, "Although I have a feeling that for some, it may have been a bit too much, wouldn't you say so, my dear Y/N?". He turned to you with the last sentence, a playful smirk on his lip, but sympathy in his eyes.

You just threw him a look, not amused by his remark, "Yeah, well, not everyone can be as brave as the great Dan McGrew, right, Arn?".

He pouted, "Auch", and knelt down in front of you, reaching his palm to your cheeks, gently caressing. It was always a weird sensation to touch light, soft or hard, not really cold, not really warm. Leaning into his touch, you planted a kiss on his hand, a small smile tugging at the lips of both of you. "You're going to get used to all of this, eventually." Rimmer tried to reassure you, but you just shook your head.

"'Eventualy' isn't soon enough, starlight." the hologram traped your hand in his, squeezing. "It never is, but you'll be fine, I know it.".

You reached your still trembling hand to the one cradling your face, feeling the threat of tears from the stress and weariness. "How?" you whispered, "How are you so sure about this?".

"Love, have you ever seen yourself when we face the unknown? You always keep such a stone-cold face, looking so brave, so fearless! Adrenaline is a powerful muse, the tremble and tears, it's not you, it's just your body, nothing more." Rimmer was now cradling your face in both of his hands, semi-standing, looking directly into your eyes.

"It's only a matter of time until you get used to the rush and once you do…" he paused, maybe because he was searching for words, or maybe just to make his encouragement more meaningful, "You'll be braver than anyone we know."

You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the holographic body, "Even more than Ace?". You felt him hugging you tightly "Even more than him.".

[cocogrrrl]

drifters

you're willing to put yourself through hell for him, but a freak accident causes the situation to make him the one near death's row instead.

Kenny McCormick x gn!reader (Killjoys AU) cw: injury, mentions of drugs, usage of alcohol, themes of war wc: 4228 (minus the references in the beginning)

an: although its relatively easy to infer the lore and slang, I've provided a glossary n a bit of lore for those unfamiliar :D hope u enjoy this cause i sure did!

After the Fire Wars of 2012, California has been under a tyrannical rule lead by the quasi-governmental corporation named Better Living Industries. The company promises eternal happiness through "the sanctity of monocromaticism." Better Living Industries subjects the people of Battery City to brainwashing, heavily through the use of drugs to negate all emotions and possibly even memories. They keep an eye on every single one of the people under their control, prohibiting them from anything that can make them experience sort of feelings Killjoys are the people who live in the zones outside of Battery City. They oppose the ways of Better Living Industries and work to survive outside of their rule as well as to take them down. KN - Killjoy Name (Separate from YN) Zones - Area outside Battery City. Cordial - Slang for moonshine. BLi - Better Living Industries, can be abbreviated to BL/ind as well Dracs - (Short for Draculoids) Members of BLi’s SCARECROW unit that are ordered to kill (Usually anything that hold emotional attachment, such as relationships). Cloud - A group, and sometimes encampment, of dracs. Pangea - Culmination of three or more groups. Dusted - To die/be dead. Ghosted - See dusted Route Guano - The main road through the zones. Drifting - A relationship that is not platonic, romantic or sexual, but a combination or something outside of it. Often usually portrayed as go-with-the-flow thing. Ray gun - Shoots lasers! Pew, pew, pew! Used by killjoys and draculoids Phoenix Witch - A mystical creature that resides in the zones, guiding departed souls of killjoys. Ember Bridge - To abandon your team. Clap - A fight (not limited to, but usually) between a killjoy and a drac. Costa Rica - to go downhill. ** Very well aware they are from Colorado 😨 It’s just that the setting is in California. ** Tommy Chow Mein is a major supplier of a multitude of products in the zones. I changed it to Timmy Chow Mein in reference to Timmy Burch from South Park. ** The Trans AM is the car that the fab four killjoys drive.

—————

(I refer to the main four here by their hero names, since creating Killjoy names for them would cause a hell lot of confusion.)

“KN,” you heard Mysterion mumble your name with a slurred tongue against your hair, bodies flush against each other. You only hummed in reply. “So fuckin’ pretty. My eyes are only for you.”

“You’re absolutely shitfaced right now, aren’t you?” You laughed, turning your body to look at him and caress his face.

“I didn’t even have that much.” He rolled his eyes, playfully pouting. “Even if I wasn’t jacked on cordial right now, I’d still tell you that.”

“You’re funny.” You hummed, brushing a hair off his face to lean in and kiss him. Kissing him gently and savoring the quiet you two had together.

“Hell yeah, I am.” He started giggling, giddiness radiating from the smile on his face because of your show of affection.

“You ever think this is gonna end? Like, one day, BLI’s finally overthrown, and we’re left to build a new society?” You mused, playing with the flyaway hair spread all over the pillows.

“God, I hope so.” He sighed, his happy smile turning into one of a melancholic grin.

“Yeah? Do you think you’ll be excited if it happens?”

“When it happens, sugar,” he corrected, bringing a finger up to your face. ”But, I think so. I’m not sure what I’ll do after. I’ll definitely be with my family, but I don’t know what comes next.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, burying your face into the warm flesh of his chest. “It seems like war is all we know at this point.”

“I’m gonna have to unlearn it at some point once this is all over.” He murmured, a hand of his finding itself brushing your hair. ”As fun as it is sometimes, hell isn’t worth kicking ass. I’d rather be elderly on a porch than worry if I’ll live to see the next day.”

“You’ll get there one day.” You hummed.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”  You were just spewing bullshit out of your mouth. These were promises you knew damn well you couldn’t keep. Even if it was a mere stretch away from you, that reality was covered in thorns. Despite your unfaithful oath, it was your personal mission to keep him safe.

 You felt a kiss laid on the top of your head. “Such a darling, sugar.”

“I know.”

———

“Wait, wait, wait,” you sighed, shaking your head in confusion. “There’s a cloud nearby, and we’re gonna storm them?”

“Yeah,” The Coon, promptly replied.

“Just the five of us are going to attack them?”

“Mhm,” this time Toolshed nodded.

“Aren’t we gonna die?! Unless a Pangea’s gonna happen, it sounds like we’re actually asking to get dusted!” You burst, jaw agape in shock.

“KN, we have no other choice. It’s either that or we wait for them to ambush the diner.” Human Kite sighed, parking a little off Route Guano. You all could see the encampment the dracs had set up not too far away.

“I guess you have a point.”

You felt a hand place itself on top of yours. It was Mysterion’s. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It gonna be okay, KN.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“...Thanks, Mysterion.” You couldn’t help but smile at him, knowing his words were tainted in falsehood anyway. There was no way telling of how this was gonna end.

This lifestyle was not one for the romantics. This life was not for the optimist.

Hell sunk itself in the modern day and, as a result, many people of all ages, sizes, and hearts are left to fight for their life depended on it.

You took a deep breath as you five exited the vehicle, finding a few large stones to hide behind. You waited for Human Kite’s lead. At one, you’ll jump in and get in a clap with the dracs.

You could either end up living or be killed, yet both outcomes scared you fiercely. If you survive, then that means you’d have to relive this experience again. If you get ghosted, then it’s game over.

But those two were just mere bad thoughts to the grand nightmare that was losing Mysterion. 

You two weren’t together. You two were just drifters, existing outside of the space of platonic, romantic, and sexual desires. You joked with each other like best friends, kissed like lovers, and persevere like partners—although any sort of action you guys had were few and far between.

You cherished those moments, though. You cherished him. Every single goddamn inch of whatever he had to offer. His touch, his brightness, his smile, his kindness, his scars that littered his body, his heart full of gold that was fueled out of retribution. 

Losing him was your greatest fear, even if you knew he wasn’t yours to begin with.

However, there was no turning back now. You guys were here. For all you know, you could’ve been spotted already.

 Human Kite started to count down as soon as you knew it.

“Five,” he whispered.

“Four,” you held your breath, looking over to the group of unsuspecting Dracs.

“Three,” you tightened your grip on your ray gun you bought years ago at a vending machine—back when you still lived in the city.

“Two,” you swiftly glanced at Mysterion, savoring his beauty with the fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second you had left.

“One.” 

All five of you jumped into the scene and started to blast the Dracs—dust from the ground quickly flying everywhere and blinding everyone. Amidst the cloud of sand, you could make out faint, white silhouettes. That’s how you knew where to shoot.

Both hands tight on your ray gun, you shot every Drac you saw, inching closer towards the center of their camp—where it was most dangerous. You had to wipe the dracs out for the safety of not just your friends but even the other gangs that settled near here.

One of them came flying at you, and by the Phoenix Witch’s grace, you were briskly able to dodge it. They barely missed you and instead landed face-first into the sand. Putting one foot on their back to hold them down, you shot them in the head. One zap to kill him, and then another to rid your frustrations.

“KN! Be careful!” A name called out. It was Mysterion, signaling to look behind you. You could see him run towards you.

As you turned to face whatever he was warning you about, you were met with the burning sensation of a ray piercing itself through your arm. “Fuck!” You cursed, nearly tumbling over from the pain. You had to hold yourself up, though, and continue fighting.

The moment you were hunched over, Mysterion was right by your side to help you. As you seethed through the pain, rebuilding the strength to stand back up, he acted as your human shield.

Once you were alright, your injured arm held your ray gun up high, the other hoisting it up by the forearm. You two needed to get out of the center quick. Back to back with your ray guns out, you two made a beeline out of the heart of the camp shooting back at the dracs that sent a hail of lasers and bullets toward the two of you.

When you were merely out of their reach, you felt Mysterion lose balance and fall on you. Adrenaline kicked in and, despite the state of your arm, you were able to hold him up. This would all be great if it weren’t for the red you spotted soaking through the grey fabric of his clothes.

“Mysterion, are you okay?” You only got a groan in reply. “Answer me!” You yelled, shaking his body. He was limp, though. 

Only one thought had bore itself in your mind: you are not going to let him let go like this. He’d be ashamed of you, and you’d be ashamed of yourself.

You peeked from behind a rock you two were hiding behind, checking to see Toolshed, Coon, and Human Kite. They seemed alright, none of them sustaining any injury yet. You had to act fast right now.

It seemed like the adrenaline in your body was the only thing keeping you alive since you mustered up the will to grab Mysterion and quickly get into the Trans AM, setting him in the back.

You took off the jacket around you and wrapped it tight against his torso to apply pressure. You shrugged his jacket off to wrap it around his leg for the same reason as well. You lifted the signature helmet he wore, giving him more air to breathe.

“Mysterion. You stay there, okay? I’m gonna tell Human Kite and the others to go.” You said, doubtful that he could hear you. You shut the door, though, and ran back to the field to find the rest of your group.

You spotted Human Kite, cornered by a bunch of Dracs. He looked like he knew he was fucked. Luckily, since you were from a distance, you were able to shoot a few of the dracs from behind. An easiness was now settling on the redhead’s face. You helped him fend off the rest of the Dracs there. After which, you leaned in close to him to whisper something.

“Kite,” you said, pants breaking up your speech.

“Yeah?” 

“Mysterion’s in the Trans. He got shot in the chest, side, and thigh.”

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, worry evident in his eyes.

“We gotta either dust these guys right now or book it.”

“Well,” he scanned the area, checking how many more Dracs are left. “There’s not that much left. You think we can take them down?”

“If you wanna go through it, we have to do it as fast as we can, or else we got a dead body on our hands.”

“I know.” He nodded, running to Toolshed and Coon to give them the news, you following behind. In an instant, they all started to shoot, and you did too. It didn’t long before each and every single one of them was ghosted.

Human Kite was in the driver’s, the Coon called shotgun, and so you and Toolshed were left to take care of Mysterion as the Coon asked the Chef for places with medical supplies.

All you could hear was your own heartbeat. Coon’s incessant yelling on the phone, the sputtering engine of the Trans Am, worried back and forths between Toolshed and Human Kite, and the faint sound of the radio in the back were white noise to your ears. All you stop and think about right now was Mysterion.

​The sole reason why Mysterion continued to keep on going was his sister, Karen, who still lived in Battery City. The two were separated after the Fires a few years ago. Ever since then, it's been his sole mission to find her and protect her. God knows if she’s been drugged by Better Living Industries or not, but he was sure of one thing: he was not going to BL/ind make an orphan out of her.

What about you? Did you have any reason to fight? You were stripped of your freedom and innocence at a young age, sure, but so was everyone else. You had no one and nothing in particular to live for, so really you didn’t have any reason to truly fight at first. 

However, when you learned why Mysterion worked relentlessly hard to take down BLi, you couldn’t help but admire him. From the day when you learned about his motivations, you made it your sole duty to protect him. Though you had nothing distinctly notable enough to live for, Mysterion did, and so you found your new purpose. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize how your worries consumed you. Guilt was not a word big enough to describe the insurmountable feeling of responsibility you had bubbling in your gut. You were embarrassed, ashamed to your very core for your carelessness and stupidity. Had you kept a better eye on Mysterion, he wouldn’t be halfway through Death’s front garden by now.

Once you five had arrived in the diner, Toolshed and Coon immediately rushed Mysterion to a small booth to patch him up. Human Kite, on the other hand, assisted the hole in your arm in the comfort of your room.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” He mused, fixing up the burn hole that pierced your arm. You were lucky that it didn’t go through the bone, only piercing your skin, flesh, and muscle.

Human Kite knew about the two of you—or at least had an idea. Neither of you hadn’t told anyone about anything, but you were sure it would be easy to spot if they looked close enough.

Were you two open about your ‘relationship’? Yes. Were you two obvious about it? No, but you’re certain he would be if he could. You two were always preoccupied with taking down dracs and scheming ways to overthrow BL/ind, so you barely had the time for each other. 

You could only love him in unpredictable, small doses, even if you wanted more than that. That made loving difficult, especially when you desperately longed for any sense of stability in your life. 

“Oh, don’t small talk me like that.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“It’s true, though, right?” He hummed, tongue sticking out as he redirected his focus on your arm.

“Yeah.”

“Are you two together anyways?”

“No.” You answered hesitantly, a vague image of a pout on your lips.

“Drifters?”

“You know, you’re really chatty right now. Wonder where that came from.” Despite your rather harsh reply, you did appreciate the conversation you were having with Human Kite. It served as a good distraction for the burning cold sensation that was the after sting of the laser.

Human Kite didn’t seem to take your comment to heart, though. “You’re not denying it, though.” 

“So? I’m not confirming it either.”

“Tell him that you like him.” You sucked in a breath, partially out of your discontentment with the idea and partially because of the raw sensation of a needle and thread being woven into your flesh.

“Kite, he’s literally nearing his deathbed as we’re talking. I don’t think I can tell him that I like him currently.” You humorously replied, a dry look on your face as you spoke.

He shrugged. “If he makes it, then.” 

“When he makes it.” You corrected.

“You’re so confusing.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Thank you. I pride myself on it.”

———

The next day passes by and Human Kite, Toolshed, and Coon had gone to the Kitchen, where Chef’s base resided, and also did his radio concerts. They went to report the outcome of yesterday’s mission and receive their next one. After that, they would pass by Timmy Chow Mein to grab some more power pups and extra supplies.

That meant you were left alone with the recovering body of Mysterion, which was resting on the booth where he was fixed up the previous day. All you had to do was check if he was breathing and alive—which he was.

However, he’s been unconscious since yesterday, so even if blood pumped through his veins, it still meant he was under unstable conditions. You watched over his rather frail and pale body, shirtless and bandages wrapped everywhere.

His poor state made you worried. It didn’t seem like you guys would be getting out of your current predicament any time soon. Hell, you’ve been going at it for years now, the term ‘soon’ just seemed like a hopeless promise to you.

The dead can be many things. The dead can win, find peace, and be freed from the chains that have held them down, but the one thing they’ll never be are survivors.

But, of course, eventually, most things will come to an end, which meant BL/ind would face its inevitable downfall. The question is if you’ll be able to watch and savor the souls (or lack thereof) crashing down.

Maybe Kyle was right. Maybe you should tell him about your feelings.

What do you have to lose? Definitely your god-knows-what of a relationship with Mysterion, but it’s not like you were going to ember bridge your gang. That would be reckless, and even then you were sure neither of you wanted to see the other leave the troupe and get themselves ghosted (or worse, drugged by BL/ind).

You sat on the seat across the booth, watching Mysterion's features shine from the sun that hit his face, adorning his features further. Mindlessly, you grazed your fingers on his exposed skin. You wondered just when he’ll wake up. 

The question of yours did not take too long to be answered.

You heard a groan spill out of his lips, words you couldn’t make out being mumbled by him. Like instinct, you bolted up from your hunch-over position and observed him with a deeper focus in your eyes. “...Mysterion? Are you awake?”

“KN…” He murmured, eyes slowly opening and meeting yours.

“Mysterion!” You called out, leaping across the table.

“Ugh, what happened?” His voice was beyond coarse because of his lack of use.

You stood up and headed to the dirty kitchen behind the counter to grab a glass of water for him. “Things went Costa Rica during the clap, and you almost died—that’s what happened!”

“Mmf, thank you.” He said, finishing the drink in an instant, setting the glass on the table with a light slam. A heave exited his lips as he collected his breaths.

You knew he just woke up but had he no regard for himself? You’ve just broken the news to him that he almost got ghosted, completely dusted. He seemed to not care at all.

“Of course.” You huffed, brushing off your thoughts and rolling your eyes. You’ll probably get back to that later—when he’s more clearheaded.

“How long was I out for?” 

“A whole day.” You sighed, looking at him as your head rested on your arm propped on the table. ”The gang is out to report the mission to Chef and grab some stuff at Timmy’s.”

“Alright.” He nodded.

“You shouldn’t have come back to save me.” You spoke out mindlessly, voice barely above a whisper. You meant it in a way that you regret what you’d caused because of your recklessness.

He might have taken that differently, though. “I shouldn’t have? KN, if I helped Kite and the others out instead of you, you would be totally dusted right now. That’s for sure.”

He was right, though. You couldn’t get mad at that. You were all alone back there, and the cloud of dracs would’ve ganged up on you. With Mysterion, less damage was observed, yet the injuries all targeted him.

Then again, his life mattered more than yours. He had Karen. You had no one.

“Mysterion, you matter more in the grand scheme of things. You have a family to find. I got fucking nothing!”

“Don’t say that, KN. You’re worth a lot more than you think.” He fumed, but his voice did not raise. Not at all. The look of anger on his face was clear, though.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath before continuing.  ”I know I matter or whatever, but you have something worth fighting for.”

“You’re worth fighting for, though.” He assured, taking both of his hands to hold your empty one.

You snapped. Words fell out of your mouth quicker than you could process the rate of them going. “And you are too! What you want is so much larger than who I’ll ever be. That’s why I’ve been hellbent on saving you!”

“You have?” He mouthed, horror melting on his face.

Hesitant to answer, you paused, body frozen. “Yeah...”

“I’m sure that’s not just why.” He continued—the terror once present now turning into an upset one.

Strike you confused since you didn’t know or understand what he was talking about. “The fuck you mean?”

“Do you like me?”

“Duh.” You bluntly answered, furrowing your brows.

“No, you don’t get it. Do you like like me?”

“Mysterion, you sound childish.”

“Answer my question.” He demanded, his eyes dark and piercing through you.

Well, you were backed into a corner now.

In the end, though, you had already thought about telling him. This was bound to be found out about at some point. Kite likely knew already, so what’s holding you back from telling Mysterion?

Fear, that is—even if it dissolved into nothing when you were with him.

You took a deep breath before you answer. “Yeah. I am in love with you.

“And so what?” You scoffed, finally straightening your posture to shoot him a look of scornfulness. ”I know I shouldn’t want you this way, especially if our lives are on the line every second of the day, but I can’t help it. I’m so hopelessly in love with you that I’m willing to sacrifice myself to get hurt in the process just so I can hold you for longer.

At this point, even if you weren’t even thinking of what you were saying, you couldn’t care less. You were finally able to set the record straight and tell him the truth. Although, you began to falter and crumble with every word you spoke. 

“I want time to fast forward to a future where we’re together, and everything is normal. I can’t, though. That’s why I settle for second best—which is protecting you and waiting for that day to come.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” You spat.

You couldn’t read his reaction. You were helpless at that very moment. “Sugar…” He mumbled. 

You didn’t want him to call you that name for the longest time. You didn’t deserve a name that praised you to be sweet, to be caring because, when all is said and done, you were a monster.

You only went with the name because he seemed to love calling you that, and you loved him too dearly to stop him from doing so.

Yet, despite the head you held high, you started to crumble. Your words felt selfish and how was he supposed to take you seriously? You’re nothing more than a means to an end. What if he found your confession embarrassing? What if he didn’t want to be with you anymore?

“Shit, I know it’s stupid, but I ju-”

You were cut off by the sensation of Mysterion’s lips on yours.

This was nothing new, though. You two kissed all the time, so why did this one feel so different?

Maybe it was the way it felt like it lasted forever. Maybe it was how your arms were all over each other—clinging desperately as if the other would disappear into thin air if one of you let go. Maybe it was because you could read the desperation and longing on his tongue. The petals of his lips on yours felt like a confession that did not need any words—something holy.

Whatever it was, you didn’t want this to end.

In your mind, the moment you two pulled away from each other with breaths crooked and awry, you knew one thing in that instant: you must’ve been breathing him.

“Mysterion…” You mumbled, forehead beading with sweat pressing against his.

“Kenny. It’s Kenny. Say my name. You already know it’s the real one.”

“Kenny,” you breathed, his name feeling like a cool breeze on your tongue. It’s been years since you’ve last spoken his name.

You felt his lips form into a smile on yours. “YN, YN, YN.” He chanted your name like it was his favorite hymn.

Everything felt like it was in its right place, even for a split moment. It felt that a fraction of a second was all you needed to know everything was alright. To know that everything is, in fact, here. You and Kenny against the world.

“What is it?”

Pulling apart from each other’s bodies, his hands found themselves resting on the space of your shoulders. “I need, no, want you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long now.”

“Why are you only telling me this right now?” You cooed.

“I was terrified,” he professed. ”I didn’t know if you wanted me as much as I did with you. That’s why I never pursued anything with you. I settled to be needed. It felt more comfortable that way anyway

“Besides, romance isn’t for the zones. If I was with you, my fear of losing you would be too amplified that might even kill me.”

With every word he spoke, you could feel your heart break a little more. He didn’t deserve to think this way, and you didn't deserve him to believe in you like this.

“At least you don’t have to be scared anymore.” You said reassuringly, taking the sides of his face into your hands, thumb caressing his cheek. ”I’ll be scared with you. Two negatives is a positive, right? We’ll find a way to work this out.”

“Please hold my hand as we work things through. Please,” he paused, hesitant to continue his next words. “Be with me.”

You nodded, finding your hand intertwined with his as you laid a soft kiss on it. “For as long as time allows us.”

(You thought to yourself, ‘Perhaps I’m a romantic as well.’)

[flowerwrites06]

would you write a drabble about doctor/nurse! oc and secret agent! jimin. oc wonders why he comes home injured most of the time but takes care of him nonetheless

MENDING

Information: Spy!Jimin x Doctor!OC (Name: Gaia) | Jimin gets confronted for his lies. Warnings: blood, mentions of stabbing, medical treatment.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・． .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

“Sorry, I—there was a tiff.” Jimin smirked. “A client wasn’t too happy with his divorce proceedings.” He cleared his throat, holding onto a reddened cloth while blood seeped through the spaces between his fingers. Sweat pearled on his forehead as he tried to sit himself down on the bathroom.

Gaia kept a steady breath as she gathered the medical kit. At first, she hurriedly healed him without asking many questions. A criminal lawyer who dealt with a lot of crazy culprits, there was bound to be some problems here and there. But often those problems were stalking or an argument, rarely was there a stab or gun wound every week.

She unbuttoned Jimin’s shirt, peeling it off his sodden skin. “I thought your recent client was a calm guy,” Gaia said. “You said so.”

“I did think so but…can’t tell.” Jimin took deeper breaths to try and quell any sounds of pain as Gaia prepared a fresh cloth soaked in water.

Gaia cleaned the wound even though the frustration of being lied to nudged at the back of her mind. “He was very careful in avoiding your vital organs.” She pursed her lips, keeping silent pauses just for Jimin to keep digging himself into a hole. “Must be trained in fighting, this accountant.”

Jimin didn’t reply to her at the moment. “Yeah, accountants are. . .more suspicious than you think.”

Gaia narrowed her gaze, as she dipped another cloth with antiseptic and pressed it onto his wound firmly.

Jimin hissed in pain. “Easy.”

“You’ll be fine,” she said in a harsh tone.

“I’m the one who was stabbed, why’re you mad at me?” Jimin asked.

“Because I don’t like being lied to.” Gaia prepared the needle and thread and started to sew. Still not looking at Jimin although she heard a sigh of defeat. “If you’re coming up with another lie then just keep quiet.”

“What gave it away?”

“Seriously?” Gaia glared.

Jimin stammered, wincing at Gaia jabbed the needle into his skin again. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing exactly. It’ll only put you in danger.” He reached out with his clean hand, tracing her hairline affectionately. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want to lie to you.”

“You’re not a lawyer,” Gaia said.

“No, but I do work for the government.” Jimin nodded. “It’s just more secluded.”

“Am I part of the assignment?” She asked.

“No, I had to fill out a 100 page form to be with you.” Jimin chuckled lightly before groaning as his stomach began to ache.

Gaia smiled even though a stubborn part of her wanted to be angry still. “100 pages…you must like me,” she mused.

“I do, quite a lot.” Jimin smirked as Gaia finished bandaging his wound.

As Gaia cleaned everything, including Jimin’s hand, the tension began to clear replacing itself with the scent of antibacterial cleaners and a warm comfort of having some kind of an answer. It wasn’t clear what Jimin was but at the very least, she didn’t have to hear clumsy lies about lawyer business. 

drabbles are closed now, sorry!