#hes so attention starved this poor man needs some appreciation

[pocketpen]

Hello fellow Eugene lovers

[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 2: you get me closer to god.

Summary: John is a manipulator, and she, is the new subject of his obsession.

Warnings: this chapter contains stalking, mentions of large age gap, graphic descriptions of violence, and manipulation.

read the warnings. john is not only a menace, he is evilllll.

Author’s note: and we are back, baby. today, in this chapter, you are going to be witnessing a LOT of fucked up shit from none other than john wick himself. my man’s been doing a lot, god bless his poor soul.

also may i remind you all that the reader here is naive! she is stupid! she is not the brightest! she’s just desperate for attention and affection, so her decisions are always stupid and all of that. (please do not hate her, she is trying her best.)

this took me a while to write because it’s long asf and also because you know me, i always struggle with the english language, but i hope i won’t disappoint you with this chapter!

thank you so much for waiting and continuing to support this fic! really, it gives me a lot of motivation to keep writing, and i really appreciate all your sweet comments and reblogs on my last post.

i hope you also enjoy this new chapter since we’re going to have another peak of what goes on in john’s dark, dark mind. (I PROMISE THE SEX SCENE WOULD BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.)

and again, this is not edited so all mistakes are on me! i really do apologize, english is not my first language.

Word count: 10.6k

also read on AO3

In this business, you’d see different kinds of reactions when a man walks into a room.

They all see themselves above everybody else. They think they’re better, deadlier, smarter. That’s the kind of mindset you need if you want to survive. How will you get out of being held at gunpoint when you’re a weakling?

When a man walks into a room, they’ll take a moment to stare.

On the outside, you’d think these people have a lot of respect for one another since they all work in the same circle anyway. But in real life, you’d see the blatant lack of respect these people truly have for each other, because they’ll stare and judge.

When John walks into a room, it’s a different story.

Fear.

John is not like any other man in business they think they could just judge and get away with it, no. John is well respected and feared. He could see it in their eyes when he pass by. The extreme discomfort and alarm to be in the same presence as him. Even if they try so hard to hide it, John sees right through them.

They view him as… something but human. He’s a killing machine. An attack dog. A monster, some would even say. 

Back in the days, John wasn’t exactly fond of the names they’ve been giving him. When he was still new in the game, he didn’t like how he struck fear over these people because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power he truly has over them.

But now, something has shifted.

John is a free man. Not the kind of free when he was with Helen, but free nonetheless. Free because instead of getting alarmed with the fact that he’s feared all over this underworld, he’s taking advantage of it. Much to the higher ups dismay. They have been having a very hard time keeping up with his recent activities.

Growing up, it seemed like John got the worst sadistic discipline in Ruska Roma.

All of them did, don’t get him wrong. All of them suffered – blood, sweat and tears. They were all forced to go through extreme discipline, because it’s the crack of the whip that gets the rats going.

But John… John got the worst of it.

He used to take the fall for his fellow students. Fingers couldn’t count just how many times he was belted on the back for someone else’s mistake. The amount of times he was starved, denied of any kind of food or water, and that’s how it’s always been.

John has always been denied for the things he wanted. The things he needed.

Now, he is not greedy. He’s not just going to take everything in his way like a kid that got away from its parents’ grip, because he doesn’t want a lot of things. John already has a house, a dog companion, enough money to last forever.

John already has everything except her.

His most happy moments couldn’t compete with the hot curl within his guts that he feels every time his mind flashes back to that night. That night when she gave in, when she gave herself away to him – willingly. 

John didn’t need to give her a little push to finally get her. She practically offered herself to him, bared her neck and John’s itching to take a bite. To finally make her his once and for all, but really, he doesn’t need to do that to know that she’s his. 

Like he said, he’s not going to force himself into her life. He’s going to be welcomed. By the looks of it, it seems like it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do after all. Not when she’s already giving up information about herself to John through texts – she’s practically making it easy for him to get her.

So naive. Doesn’t got a fucking clue in the world.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Fucking mine –

John looks at his phone, reading the messages both of them sent each other the night before, and there it is again. The itch in his hands, the need to possess.

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

John changed her name on his phone. He changed it to something more… intimate. More sweet. 

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : I could never.

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : You’re hard to forget.

He remembers – no, saw – how she responded. With a smile on her face, hopeful.

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : using my words against me, i see :D 

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : good to know you’re still as slick as the last time we chatted haha

13.06.15 11:49 PM

John : Hard not to. I wanted to impress you.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : you already did.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : with all your brooding and intimidating look. just my type ;D 

John smiles to himself as he reads the message. He remembers the look on her face when she’s typing, and hasn't got a clue that the man she’s flirting with was observing her just from across her building. John wouldn’t call it invading her privacy, he calls it keeping her safe.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : anywho i asked for your number for a reason. i really do want to talk to you again. not just in chat, i mean, but also in real life :) 

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : maybe we could get to know each other more? what do you say??? meet up again, but this time planned unlike our other previous meetups?? haha

He is not a teenager to be feeling this giddy over reading messages, but she truly brings out something shameful in him.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

John : I should be the one asking you that.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : you were taking too looonggg :( 

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : so what do ya think?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : Of course I’ll go. I told you I’d make time for you, didn’t I?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : I’m a man of my word.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

Bambi : ok that’s great! i was so worried you wouldn’t say yes.

John had averted his eyes from the phone that night and onto the little lady across the building. She was rolling around on her bed, still dressed in her pink, fluffy robe and her hair was still wet. She looks like a puppy that John wanted to pet; stroke her hair and tell her she’s his good girl.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : When do you want to meet? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : aahhhhh let’s see

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : i have classes tomorrow morning BUTTT we can def meet up during lunch! i get out of school at like 12 and go to work at 3 :D

I know, John wanted to say. I’ve memorized your everyday schedule in the span of two days.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : How about I pick you up from your school, we grab lunch, and I drop you off to work?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : Or is it too soon? 

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : oh my god no way REALLY?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : nooo it’s not too soon don’t worry! you def could so we have more time to talk and everything! i just hope i won’t be bothering you or anything.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : do you have work tomorrow? you look like a 9 to 5 kinda guy :P 

God, she’s fucking adorable. 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

John : I don’t, so you don’t have to worry. I’d love to talk to you more as well.

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : ok! i cannot wait for tomorrow. i should probably sleep now tho so i wouldn’t look shitty when you see me :D 

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : here is the address of my school. [Address]

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : can’t wait to see you tomorrow, john! goodnight, see you soon! x

13.06.15 11:55 PM

John : Goodnight, sweet girl. Have a good sleep.

John hadn’t meant to type that. He felt his heart drop to his stomach, terrified that he somehow scared her away with the sudden affection. But then he saw her read his message, dropped her phone on the bed, and then rolled over again like a lap dog.

She’s too easy to tame, so gullible. John almost couldn’t believe how fast she folded, how desperate she really is. But then again, he could say the same about himself. Lonely and desperate, they were meant to be together. He likes to believe God had put them in this position because of fate, because he has a plan for every single one of us.

John’s never been the one to believe in Him, but he finds himself grasping to that very little delusion that keeps him from going insane.

*

11:55 AM, the students are already making their way out of their designated buildings. 

John is keeping his guard on high alert, eyes scanning the crowd to find her. He’s parked just across the school gate, leaning against his car as he checks the time on his wrist. He’s also holding his phone in the other, waiting for it to vibrate in case she drops a message.

He’s never felt this giddy before. Hands clammy and eyes searching frantically, excited because he’s finally getting to spend alone time with her, but also worried in fear of losing her in the crowd. John doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have the upper hand. When he doesn’t have control of the situation. When she’s not in his line of vision and could be doing god knows what without his supervision.

He checks his phone again. 11:58, where is she?

John knows at this time, she should be out and about already, waiting for a cab to her apartment. His fingers itch, hovering over the screen of his phone. He begins contemplating if he should send a message, but that would make him look demanding and clingy. He doesn’t want to leave that kind of impression on her, or otherwise he’d have no choice but to abduct her and keep her locked away if she thinks about running –

He blinks, sucking in deep breath. 

“Shit,” he whispers, looking up to the school gate again. This isn’t good. What the fuck was he even thinking? 

John tries not to think about it. Tries to convince himself that he is not as fucked up as his mind is making him out to be. He wouldn’t stoop that low, he’s not that cruel –

Are you not?

A certain someone appears in the crowd, standing outside the school gate, already spotting John and waving at him from across the road. Her face is bright, smiling wide. John never wanted to possess something so bad.

He waves back, all his dark thoughts suddenly gone, and everything is rainbows and sunshine. John watches as she crosses the road carefully, looking left and right, seeming small with the people around her. She looks like a lost puppy.

John wants to pet.

“John, hey!” she beams, running up to him to give him a hug which catches John off guard. She’s on her tiptoes just to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and John doesn’t want to make her upset for not immediately reacting with her affection, and so he puts his arm around her waist and bends down to place his chin on her shoulder. 

He fights the urge to bury his nose in her neck, then maybe sucks a few hickeys, leaving a bite mark to show that the big, bad wolf has already marked his mate.

She’s so fucking easy to get, John thinks.

When she pulls away from the hug, John tries not to look disappointed. Her cologne lingers in his nose. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“You don’t ever need to say sorry for that,” John says, faux stern as he places a hand on her waist subtly. She looks like she doesn’t mind, that’s a good thing.

“Okay then,” she smiles politely. “Oh, and I’m sorry if I look like a mess. Just say the words and I would totally change to more appropriate clothes before we go somewhere.”

“You look beautiful,” John says smoothly, standing up straight. Even though she looks underdressed next to John who’s wearing a three-piece suit, she is still heart-wrenchingly beautiful. In fact, John likes the contrast.

“T-thanks.”

“Should we go?”

“Sure! I’m excited,” she giggles, the sound practically dancing in his ear. “I’m hungry. Where will we eat?”

“Hm, what do you like?” he asks.

“Dunno. Burger and milkshake.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“The only thing I can afford, unfortunately,” she jokes, though John doesn’t answer, only opening the car door for her. “We should eat in a diner. I know a good one! Also cheap, so you won’t have to worry about the price.”

“I never worry about the price, darling,” John murmurs, but still loud enough for her to hear as she gets inside the vehicle. He swiftly walks to the driver’s seat and starts the car, glancing at his little bambi who’s observing the interior intensely. “You like it?”

“It’s so cool. I’ve never been in a car like this.”

“You’re going to have a lot of firsts when you’re with me.”

As John starts driving, the girl beside him babbles. Not that he minds, of course. He listens and nods, so obsessed with her voice that he could listen to it forever. It’s amazing how John could easily hide the fact that he was just stalking her from across her apartment the night before in the back of his mind, like it never even happened. It’s amazing how he could act like he wasn’t just thinking about kidnapping her and locking her away from the public forever.

But then again, everything about his little bambi would make anyone risk it all for her.  It’s not just John. Anyone would do the same if they were in his shoes.

“How was school?” John asks, averting his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her.

“Eh, it was alright. Classes always drain me, no wonder I’m so hungry now,” she answers politely. One of the few things John noticed about her. How she doesn’t run out of things to say, how she can get the conversation going. “How about you? You going to work after our lunch? You’re dressed up for it.”

“I took the day off today,” he replies vaguely.

“What? Why?”

“I have a date with you.”

She seems to be shocked by John’s choice of words, but she’s more concerned with the fact that John took the day off for her. “Y-yeah, but you didn’t have to do that. We could just go on a date next time.”

“The sooner, the better,” he explains, feeling another surge of something hot into his veins. She agreed that this is a date. Just how fucking gullible can she get? “Work is no problem for me. I want to get to know you more.”

“O-okay. I wanna get to know you more too.”

When John catches a glimpse of her bright smile beaming at him, his hands tighten around the wheel and he steps on the gas harder.

*

John doesn’t like how his mind isn’t making him remember about Helen.

He should be remembering her. He should feel some kind of guilt for being in a restaurant with another woman, but he doesn’t. Every single day since she died, his mind would always make him think about her. But now, it’s like John completely forgot about her existence at all.

The wedding ring on his finger is long gone. Ever since his unhealthy obsession began, he thought that wearing that while doing something so sinful felt so wrong. Helen shouldn’t have to witness all the things he had done in the name of a girl he had only met once that time.

The diner isn’t packed with people. The sizzling of the burgers grilling on the pan and the chatters seem to drown out eventually when his little bambi starts talking.

John gives her a small smile, barely there, just to show her that he’s listening, all his attention is on her.

“Time seems to pass by so fast, huh? I remember when I bumped into you the first time, I really thought I wouldn’t see you again,” she starts the conversation with a bang, but thankfully John’s prepared for this type of talk.

“So you really wanted to see me then?” he smirks slightly.

“Yeah! You’re really good looking and it’s not always I see a guy as handsome as you in my apartment complex and my school,” she says bluntly, though John could see the faint blush on her cheeks when she mentions the word ‘good looking.’ “So of course I had to take my chance when I met you again at that club! God, you were my knight in shining armor. I would’ve been crushed to death if it wasn’t for you.”

“That’s why you should always be careful on the road. You’re small, everyone could look past you if you weren’t careful enough.”

She pouts, placing her chin on her hand as she stares lovingly at John. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not small. You’re just saying that because you’re too big. And I’m always careful on the road – it was only that time that I lost balance and almost fell.”

“Then it better not happen again,” John says sharply, leaning back against the cushioned seat as he stares back at her challengingly. “But there’s no need to worry for the next time. I won’t let that happen again.”

“Next time?” she teases. “So you want to see me again next time, then?”

“Have I not made it clear with my actions and words?” John shoots back, raising another eyebrow. She likes it when he’s being stern like this. All authoritative. She might not know it yet, but her body language speaks for itself. “Do you want to see me again?”

The little bambi smiles brightly, and It hurts. It hurts John to see that smile because she’s just like the sun. But no matter how much she shines, John would do anything just to touch. Just to possess. Just to break.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have gotten your number if I didn’t, right?”

“Good.”

It’s not like she could do much anyways if she says no. Nothing will ever stop John from seeing her again, no matter how bad the procedure would be.

The food then arrives and is served on the table, and John thinks he has never felt anything like this before.

His hands have never felt this itchy before. That desperate, longing feeling to just possess the very thing that’s placed right in front of you. Everything about her is just so captivating, staring up at John like he’s the one who hung the moon, so full of adoration and hope.

Seems like John isn’t the only desperate one between the two of them. He could see it in her eyes. She’s practically begging him to take care of her.

And really, he can’t blame her.

An absent mother and an alcoholic father. No wonder she’s seeking attention from a man like John. A man old enough to be her father – if not older than her own father. John would be more than willing to fulfill the role her father failed to be when she was young. He’d do anything to protect her, morals be damned.

She looks too good to be true sitting right in front of him and he didn’t think watching someone devour a burger twice as big as her face would be so endearing. The way she licks her lips, the way her eyes sparkle every time John would pay attention to the little things she’d absentmindedly insert in her stories. No one must’ve given her this kind of attention before. No one but John.

“Oh, before I forget!” She places a hand on John’s arm that’s perched on the table. A mere innocent touch, yet he can’t help but feel a little giddy on the inside. “We’ve been talking for like, an hour now, and I still haven’t asked what your job is. I’ve been really curious ever since you told me you took a day off just for this. Are you like the boss or something?”

Ah. Of course.

A question like this is inevitable, thank god John came prepared. 

“No,” he simply says. “I’m a book binder. I collect and restore books as both a hobby and job.”

“Wow,” she nods her head, now interested as she leans forward and closer to him. She smells so sweet, John feels like he’s snorting sugar. “I didn’t think book binding could earn you so much money. Considering you’re dressed pretty… comfortably. And you have a nice car.”

“It pays enough,” John replies. Sooner or later she’d find out what he really does for a living, and no doubt she’d be scared. John already has a plan of action for when that would happen, but for now, he’ll try to keep it a secret as long as he can. “Pays enough to let me spoil you in the future. In fact, I think I might just start spoiling you now.”

“You say that to every woman you meet?” She quirks an eyebrow, teasing. 

“Just for you. You’re special.”

John sees the way she immediately turns shy and nervous from the statement. It must’ve felt overwhelming, having someone so much older and with more experience to hit on her like that. But John would say it brings a whole different feeling in him, like ego-lifting of some sort, knowing he just might be the only man that treated her right in her life.

Does killing one of her guy friends and storing him in his basement means treating her right? Does stalking her and watching her sleep from across the building is a way to treat her right? Different story to be told for another day.

“I believe you,” she says, smiling. 

Of course you do.

John diverts her attention from him. “You’re a veterinary student and also part time in a veterinary clinic. What made you want to pursue it?”

“Uh, let’s see. I don’t really have like, a very logical reason for it. I just really love animals and I want them to be part of my job as well,” she shrugs. “As for the part time thing, one of my older friends works there and got me in to gain some experience. I don’t really do much, I help with the paperworks and watch how they do stuff around there.”

I know.

“Your unconditional love for animals is logical enough.”

“I know right. Best job in the world, I might add. I get to pet all kinds of different animals everyday, and mind you I’m not even a real doctor yet,” she giggles, then tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you have a pet, John?”

“I do. I have a dog,” he answers, taking a sip of his own milkshake. It’s sweet, it’s something he’s not used to, but it reminds him of her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t named her yet.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

“I don’t know how to. I’m not good with names,” John shrugs. This conversation with her alone just might be the longest conversation he’s ever shared with someone ever since Helen died. And even with his late wife, he wasn’t as talkative as this. “Maybe you could name her. She’s a large pitbull but surprisingly very gentle for her size.”

“Oh my god, John, I have to meet her!” She beams. “Maybe on our next date, don’t you think? Let’s bring her with us to the park, have a little picnic there or something.”

Next date.

She wants to go on another date with him and she is making this a lot easier for John.

His lips stretch into a rare smile, fingers twitching subtly around the glass as he stares right into her eyes. There’s no hidden intention behind them, just pure adoration with a twinge of hope. Probably hopes that John wants the same thing as her, but he wouldn’t let her know that she is in for a lot more than she bargained for.

“I can’t wait for our next one.”

*

John could still remember the little things that made him feel human. 

Back in the Marines, when he first killed somebody, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt and self-hating that he couldn’t sleep for a week. He’d have nightmares of it; of holding his gun up to somebody’s head and blowing it up with just one single movement. The residue of the flesh splattered all over his face, some of them even went to his mouth. His hands shaked but he didn’t let his crew see it. In their eyes, that wasn’t the first time he had done it.

When he was recruited by Viggo and his little minions, the guilt of killing people was still there, but barely. He used to wish he didn’t feel any guilt or remorse at all every time he pulled a trigger, but looking back at it now, he wishes he could just take it all back. It was only guilt that he felt most of his life, but it made John human.

Now, he doesn’t feel very human as he stands in the middle of an abattoir holding a machete with pints of blood pooling at his shoes.

Back then, he used to kill. Point, shoot, leave. A very short routine he told himself to stick with unless he wanted to get in trouble. But now, he is not only just killing. John is fucking slaughtering people.

His eyes land on the dead body hanging from the meat hook. Naked, gutted alive just a few moments ago. His stomach is sliced open with his own intestines wrapped around his neck, and it fucking stinks.

The raw stench of human blood mixing with the already reeking smell of the slaughtered pigs hanging just besides the one John had slaughtered himself. 

Really, John should feel even just a little amount of remorse or disgust. His client didn’t particularly gave him a specific order on how to fucking kill the target, John did it himself. He didn’t know what the fuck was he thinking when he was doing the wet work, all he knows is that he’s getting worse each day that passes.

The killing part took some time considering the man certainly put up a fight. He was smuggling drugs inside the pigs he was slaughtering. It works on people too, though it’s too risky. Dying with balloons of cocaine up your throat or ass isn’t exactly the way you’d want to die, nor the kind of state you want your body to be in.

John really didn’t mean to go this far, but all the pent up anger and frustration led him to do something so ugly. He feels like a ticking bomb. Every second a little part of humanity just starts fading away, who knows what would happen if all of it were gone. 

This is his first kill since his date with his bambi. That was five days ago. John decided to take another job while he’s waiting for her next decision. He doesn’t want to look clingy and creepy by constantly texting her every chance he gets, so he lets her do it in her own phase. Though, waiting for her texts sure did take a lot of rampant rage on John’s side. Lots of broken furniture and a creepy amount of hours watching her sleep from across the building. 

Just because John is letting her do her own thing for the meantime, doesn’t mean he gets to take his eyes off of her. It’s for the best. 

Their last conversation was yesterday. It was a pretty long conversation, but not long enough for John’s satisfaction. She left it off by saying she’s going to be busy studying for her test and cleaning her apartment, which John didn’t have the time to check if she was telling the truth since he was busy himself.

John is dying to see her again but he knows he’s gonna have to wait it out in the Continental. Or maybe if he’s feeling a little bit insane, he’d ditch having to rest and spend his time sitting on a dusty chair in the same dusty room he’s been staying in for awhile; the building across from her apartment. But until then he’ll have to see where time will take him.

His phone ringing in his jacket is what snaps him from his thoughts. Bringing a bloodied hand to get it, he almost couldn’t press the screen by the slippery liquid covering his fingers. John presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the person to speak.

“Hey, boss. How’s Russia treating you so far? Hopefully not great ‘cause I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.” The deep voice of Alex echoes in the abattoir. It must’ve slipped John’s mind that he had sent Alex again to tail her again while he’s out overseas.

He furrows his brows, curious. “How is she?”

“Hm, let’s see here. Your little pet has been up and about all day with her little friends after they’ve finally noticed the disappearance of that little shit we took care of a while back – speaking of which, how is he by the way?”

“Rotting. Dissolving in my basement,” John replies, hands tightening around the handle of the machete. So this is what she’s been doing and the reason why she hasn’t messaged him all day. “I say the fucker got what he deserved. He’s a creep who preys on women to rape, I’m just thankful we got him out of the way before he got to her.”

“Yeah, well. She doesn’t know that and I doubt she’d even stop looking for her creepy friend unless they’ve found him. What do you want me to do?”

“Give it a day or two. Wait for me to get back and I’ll take it from there.”

“Anything else?” John hears loud chattering in the background, he furrows his brows.

“Yeah. Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, keeping her in my sight like you told me to?” Alex sounds particularly sassy. John doesn’t know if he should be pleased or not. “She’s at a restaurant. I think she’s having a meeting with her other friends or something – she looks upset.”

“Upset because of her missing friend, I assume.”

“Probably. Have you talked to her at all today, boss? Pretty sure I have not yet seen her pick up her phone all day.”

“No,” John simply says. “But she will. I’m sure of it.”

“I see you’ve finally gotten her dependent on you now.”

“Not enough, apparently, since she’s gone a full day without talking to me.”

“Well, you’re definitely getting there,” Alex says under his breath. “I’m going now, boss. They’re leaving to god knows where.”

John doesn’t say anything else, only ending the call and pocketing back his phone. He looks around the area, the coppery smell of blood is stronger than before. He is the reason why it stinks in here, the reason why there’s so much blood and brutality. The body that hangs right in front of him is lifelessly staring with dead, cold eyes. John resists the urge to shove a balloon of fucking cocaine into his stomach, the same thing he’s been doing with these pigs, brutalize him more if that’s even possible, but he knows it wouldn’t help his already worsening mentality.

The thought of someone seeing this body and thinking about how fucked up the person who did this doesn’t concern him as much as it should. 

Instead, John turns his heels and walks away from the scene. 

*

Unsurprisingly, getting her to depend on John isn’t the hardest task to do.

It just might be the easiest.

The moment John arrives at the Continental, he takes his time to message his bambi. It’s only reasonable, he wouldn’t come out as a clingy creep since it’s been a full day since his last message, he has every right to know what and how she’s doing despite already getting enough pictures and updates from Alex.

He asks her how she’s been, waits for approximately ten minutes before he finally gets a reply. In those ten minutes, John takes his time scrolling through the pictures Alex had sent him. Pictures of her bundled up in large, colorful sweaters and wearing a frown on her pretty face. She looks rough, but she makes looking rough look good.

Bambi : hi, john :(( sorry i didn’t text you all day. was busy with something 

John : That’s alright, I understand. I’m just glad you replied. Did something come up? Was it about school?

Bambi : kind of. my friend from school is missing and we don’t know where he is. we’re worried because he hasn’t answered any of our calls for a week and his apartment is practically empty.

Reading that almost makes him resist an urge to sickly smile to himself. His fingers hover the screen, careful of what his next words might be. 

John : I’m sorry to hear that. Have you gotten any updates from the police? What did they say?

Bambi : nothing yet unfortunately. no one saw him the night he went missing :( 

John : I’m sure you’ll find him soon enough. I hope nothing extremely bad happened to your friend.

He sounds… manipulating. There aren’t any more words that could describe what John is doing to her. He doesn’t even know if he can still make up excuses to tell himself that everything is completely fine and normal.

The girl that he likes is currently sharing about the horrifying tragedy her ‘friend’ is facing, the horrifying tragedy being John’s fault, and he’s fucking lying about it. And what truly terrifies him the most is not about the fact that he’s manipulating her, he’s terrified because it feels normal and just… fine.

Normal, normal, normal–

Can John really win her over by going this path? If not, would it really matter?

He will still have the upper hand if this doesn’t end well. But then again, there’s a very small chance that it wouldn’t – if not none at all. John just needs to play his cards well and there wouldn’t be a problem. 

Bambi : thank you john. really hope that too. it doesn’t feel the same without him

John’s jaw ticks.

What do you mean it doesn’t feel the same without that fucker? I killed him for you! He was a creep who only wanted to fuck you and take you away from me and–

A dangerous feeling suddenly surge into his veins that he wants to put back together all the pieces of that fucker just to destroy it in his hands once again.

Maybe mutilating him and dissolving him in pure acid just isn’t enough. Maybe he deserved more. Maybe John should’ve took his fucking time torturing that little shit instead of killing him instantly.

John : And how are you? I hope you’re not too worried about this matter that you start to forget about taking care of yourself.

Bambi : i’m doing fine, but a bit sad bc of it. i also miss you and i wish u’re here so i wouldn’t be too sad

And just like that, it’s like all his resentment and rage just one minute prior vanished in a snap of a finger. A small smile makes its way to his face and a surge of ego soars into his chest. She has no idea she’s got a dangerous assassin wrapped around her finger and the consequences it’d bring her.

Bambi : are u still overseas? when will you be back?

John : Tomorrow, hopefully.

John : And I miss you too, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I finish work.

Bambi : can’t wait to see you. do u want me to pick u up at the airport? :D

John : Thank you, baby, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to keep you busy when you already have too much in your hands.

Bambi : mkay. but call me or text me when u arrive, ok?

John : Of course.

*

John is not stupid.

If he ever noticed a man following his every step, he didn’t once care or say a word.

It’s one of Winston’s men, obviously, following him around throughout his business in Russia up to boarding the same plane as him back to New York. Considering John had managed to catch on pretty quickly at the fact that Winston sent someone to trail him, this poor guy is not doing a particularly good job.

At first, John thought about taking care of the guy himself and bringing Winston a souvenir of his dog’s fingers or even one of his eyeballs, but decided that he is not that cruel.

He could be, but knowing he holds all the power over several people under The Table makes John wants to play the game a little longer and just fucking shiver in excitement.

Obviously Winston had noticed that John is up to no good. Not that it’s any of his business, he’s more likely just scared for his own life. He’s probably thinking it was a bad idea to bring John back into the game now that he’s living up to the horrors of his reputation and giving people exactly what they wanted.

When John first returned to the field, it was only to avenge his late wife and nothing more. But now that a bigger monster has grown within him over the course of his stay, he’s now also looking for the fuel to his fire.

And boy did he find it.

The fuel being in the form of a young woman who’s unaware of how much power she has over John. It’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose. 

*

10:56 PM.

“Hello.”

“Hello? John?”

“It’s me, darling. How are you?”

“Doing fine. Studying for my exam and all. Why are you calling at this hour, though?”

“Just wanted to let you know that I just arrived back in New York and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh, John, it’s so late. I was thinking earlier that you would arrive tomorrow morning or afternoon, you didn’t tell me you boarded a flight.”

“I wanted to be back as soon as possible and wanted to surprise you, but my flight got delayed so I only just arrived now.”

A soft laugh rings in his ear.

“You’re so cheeky. We can just meet up tomorrow if you’d like, go on a picnic at a park or something. I really, really wanna meet your dog.”

John hears a sigh, then the sound of paper rustling in the background. He counts – one, two, three – here it comes.

“I miss you, John.”

He pushes the curtain aside with two fingers, peering his eyes in the small opening as he watches the figure at the other side of the building. She’s sitting on her study desk in front of a laptop, freshly showered and wearing specs that John can’t help his heart to ache.

It’s been so long.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. Couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was away.”

“That’s very sweet. I hope you brought souvenirs for me, though, or otherwise I will be very sad.”

“How can I forget? I bought everything that reminded me of you when I was there.”

“Now you’re just spoiling me.” Another laugh, then John sees her getting up from the chair and laying on the bed. “I’m happy that I’d get to see you again tomorrow, John. Everything that’s been happening is just so… I don’t know. Stressful, I guess. From my friend missing and school work, I don’t even know where to start. I just wanna be with you again.”

The mention of her friend Jay ticks him the wrong way, but he can’t also help but notice the longing and desperation laced in her voice as she said the last part. John knows it wouldn’t be too hard for her to be dependent on him, he just didn’t expect it to be this easy. They’ve only met once in real life, but their constant texting and calling through the phone makes it up for it. 

“Don’t let yourself worry too much on matters that don’t concern you.”

Silence, then John watches her bite her nail anxiously. “What do you mean by that, John?”

He doesn’t particularly like the way his name just rolls off her tongue like that – like she’s his age, the same way Helen used to call him. He doesn’t want to be reminded of Helen when he’s with his little bambi, it just makes him feel even shittier with the situation. It sorta reminds John how much he truly changed when he lost Helen.

“Don’t worry about your friend too much. I know it’s hard that he’s missing, but don’t put him first before your own well being,” John advises, manipulation just dripping off his tongue like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He doubts she would notice, though. “I’m sure the police got it covered by now. I’m more worried about you.”

John could still see her expression through the window despite being far away. She’s thinking about it, letting herself get swayed by his lies and persuasion. She’s too easy, she just doesn’t know it herself, but John does. And he’s going to take advantage of it as much as he can. 

He counts again – one, two, three – and she’s dropping her hand to the bed and sighing softly. There she is.

“Okay. You’re probably right, I worry too much.”

John doesn’t reply but gives a silent hum that indicates he’s agreeing. He sees her taking off her glasses and putting it on the bedside table, suddenly the itch in his hands is back.

There’s a voice nagging at the back of his head and asking him just what the fuck is he doing, that he should stop this madness before it gets out of hand, but would that really make a difference? Even if John did stop, he’d still continue to live with the fact that he was a monster who stalked a young woman out of sheer obsession. He’d already got her dependent on him, he’d already laid out the plan on how this would turn out, why is he suddenly questioning now?

He had done stuff that was worse than manipulating. He didn’t feel a single drop of empathy when he was slaughtering people and shooting them in the head, but why does he feel guilty manipulating her?

“John? Did you already fall asleep on me?”

Soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, then it’s followed by a soft giggle. John feels butterflies exploding in his stomach. 

“Sorry. I was just–”

“It’s okay, John, you can sleep. You’ve probably had a long day since you’ve been on a flight and everything. I’m going to sleep now too, we have a date tomorrow, remember? Don’t forget.” The faux strictness in her voice makes him smile, then he sees her smiling just as big through the window; giddy and excited. “Goodnight, John. It’s really nice talking to you again. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up first, smiling to herself before putting the phone back to her nightstand. She settles on the bed comfortably, tucking herself into her blanket, unaware of the fact that there’s a monster lurking on the other building, watching her every move like a hawk.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the old mirror on the dusty wall, dressed in black and predatory, reminiscent of the devil himself. 

Might as well live up to the name.

*

John is aware of how dead he looks in people’s eyes. He barely smiles, he’s always dressed in black, and he always has trouble showing emotions through his face. He makes sure that he gives off that aura that shows how much he dislikes everyone in the fucking room. How much he just wants to pull out his gun and shoot every single one of them in the head.

John despises the way they look at him. Like they pity him for losing his wife, for getting dragged back to the life he had already left. Though, he can’t really blame them, really. He used to pity himself too, even now for letting himself get even worse, but he wouldn’t really call it pity. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not pity.

The next day is interesting, to say the least.

He couldn’t get a minute of sleep the night before, the image of her sleeping so peacefully without a worry in the world bored into his mind. It’s extremely fascinating to him just how careless and… dumb she is. Dumb in a way that it’s benifiting John – the both of them, actually – and not in an offensive kind of way.

It was around two in the morning when he returned back to the hotel, managed to sleep for an hour or two before ripping off the blankets and had a drink the first thing in the morning. John didn’t bother taking a nap after that, just walking around the room making sure all is well and everything will be according to plan.

At 8 AM, she texted John a good morning and said it would be better for their date to be at 4 PM. John then replied that it was perfect, though he doubts he can wait that long.

12 PM, for a man as calm and collected as John, he sure as hell can’t fucking sit still in one place.

He’s paranoid. No amount of texts from his bambi is enough to keep him calm. The time is ticking too slowly for his liking and he has no other things to do in his free time. Except be paranoid.

John grabs his coat, kisses his dog goodbye and decides to stop by a grocery store to prepare for their date. He should at least make them both a sandwich and buy drinks, knowing that the little gesture would be enough to put a smile on her face.

1 PM, John comes back with shit ton of paper bags in his arms. He’s doing too much, he knows it, but too much is still better than not enough.

John goes to the kitchen to prepare. The orphanage taught him how to cook – well, not really. John taught himself how to cook, because if he’s not going to cook for himself and half of the kids back in Ruska, they’d all be dead with no survival instincts to save them from starvation. Being an assassin who could withstand any form of torture all while not knowing how to cook would be the greatest joke of the century. John’s not the one to be laughed out.

2 PM, everything is settled and in place, his little bambi texts him to let him know that she’s getting ready and cannot wait for their date. John then takes his time to get ready too.

3 PM, John is dressed in a nice white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket on top. He looks civilised, no one would know a damn thing that he’s one of the most feared men in the underworld who slaughters people for a living.

His dog is quiet in the corner, chewing on her bone toy until John puts a collar and leash around her neck. Her eyes perks up in excitement, already knowing they would go outside to play. John always takes his time making sure she gets to socialize with other dogs, whether it’s in a park or just down the street.

“You’re excited, baby?” John murmurs, petting her ears softly as he kneels down to her position. “You’re gonna meet someone special. Want you to be nice to her, alright? She’s gonna be your mom.”

John hauls everything into his car in a matter of minutes. The picnic basket, the blanket, his gifts for his little one that he got from Russia, also including his dog. She’s behaved yet excited as she peeks in the mirror watching her owner work.

He slides into the driver’s seat and locks his seatbelt, starting up the car and driving away from the hotel. Earlier, John had seen a couple of his co-workers loading up his trunk dressed like he’s going on a date – because he is – no doubt they’re snitching and would tell Winston. He couldn’t care less.

He arrives outside her apartment after thirty minutes, parking his car right by the entrance. He can’t help but grimace as he looks around the place. He remembers meeting her here, the day after he killed that good-for-nothing junkie. He wonders if she ever got the news, how she reacted when someone got killed the same day John was visiting her area.

It won’t be long before she wouldn’t be living in this area no more. It’s too dangerous, filled with a bunch of goons who get themselves tangled up in petty gang wars. John knows a gangster when he sees one, and it looks like every single man who lives in these crowded apartments are either pushers or gangsters with no sense of direction in life.

She doesn’t belong here. She should be in John’s house, locked up and isolated where she’s safe under his supervision. He would treat her like a princess, give her the things she deserve.

John gets out of the car, pulls out his phone and sends her a message to let her know he’s outside her building. He leans against the car as he waits.

A minute passes and a very happy bambi appears in the elevator, dressed in a pretty sundress and a white tote bag with a text John can’t see. She’s beaming up at him as she exits the building, and John hasn’t got the time to react before she’s lunging herself forward and going on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Whoa easy,” John murmurs, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist for support, placing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent; it’s sweet, not a surprise. “You miss me that much?”

“So much, you don’t even wanna know,” she murmurs in his chest, not quite reaching his neck despite being on her tiptoes. “I hope you miss me just as much.”

John pulls away, gives her a look as he places her large hands on her hips. “I might’ve missed you more than you missed me.”

She giggles, John could see her eyes through the heart-shaped sunglasses she’s wearing. It’s cute. “That’s not possible, I will fight you for it.”

“Hm,” John hums, eyes wandering down her lips to her dress. It stops just above her knees, John has to mentally prepare himself for the worst. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says sheepishly. “You like it? I think it’s the perfect picnic outfit.”

“I love it,” John clarifies. “Looks perfect on you.”

“You look gorgeous yourself,” she giggles, eyeing John up and down teasingly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He isn’t so sure how to react to that, hopefully his dick wouldn’t take the liberty to rise from the dead at this moment. “This is the first time I’ve seen you not wearing any suits. Domestic looks good on you.”

“What can I say, I’m a changed man.” John means both good and bad. “And before we go, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Before she gets a chance to ask, John slides out of the way from his position of covering the car window and reveals a very happy pitbull waiting to be introduced to her mother.

Her smile is wide when she spots John’s pet excitedly wagging her tail inside the car. “Oh my god, she is beautiful! John, open the door, hurry, hurry, hurry–”

“Okay, okay–”

The moment John pulls the door open, the dog comes rushing out to jump and starts licking her face.

“Oh, lookie here, baby! You’re such a cutie! What’s your name, hm? Don’t got a name yet? Your dad can’t think of a name to give ya’?” 

Her giggles are like music to his ears.

The sound of paws pattering on the concrete and her high pitched voice talking to the dog fills the empty street in a matter of seconds. When she isn’t looking, John begins looking around the area, his eyes landing on the apartment building where he preys at some nights. 

There’s a person at the front desk, staring at him like he knows something, and like a switch that goes off in his brain, John recognizes this man as the same one who bumped into him a few nights ago in the hallway in front of the abandoned room where he’s staying.

They meet eyes, John flashes him a knowing look, then the man immediately looks away.

John’s jaw ticks. He’s gonna have to deal with that later.

He turns his attention back to where it’s most needed. She’s still playing with the dog, crouching beside the car while the puppy just drowns in her affection. John really hates to break the moment.

“Shall we get going?” He interjects, voice deeper than usual, still feeling a little on the edge from that man by the front desk earlier.

“Sure. She gonna be in the backseat?”

“You bet.”

John opens the door for the both of them and lets her help the puppy get inside. Before he slams the door close, he makes sure to take another look at the apartment, seeing the man already staring back at him.

Yeah. He’s really gonna have to deal with that later.

*

They arrive at the park around 4:25 and John is the one to set up their spot while she and the puppy play in the empty field. It’s empty, totally empty, and John couldn’t be more thankful than that since he really doesn’t want to be around other people besides her. She’s the only one that matters.

John notices that she brought her own dog toys, probably the ones she keeps to herself since she does work in a vet clinic after all. The sight of her happily running around the grass with his dog is enough to bring him to his knees, he is only but a man.

John calls her to eat and the two of them come running towards him and plops down on the soft blanket next to the basket full of fruits.

“Had fun?” John speaks, sitting beside her on the ground as he watches her get a plate of pasta for the two of them. She insists she gets to plate their food, John lets her.

“Very. Didn’t know she’s quite energetic, luckily for her I can match her energy extremely well.”

“It comes with being young, I guess. Can’t really relate,” he jokes, receiving the plate full of pasta she gives him while she snickers at the statement.

“Come on, John. You’re still fit despite being old.” John watches her take a bite of the food. He’s not subtle, he’s straight up staring at her lips as she wraps her mouth around the fork, savoring the flavor with closed eyes. “Hm, this is delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“By myself,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his food to keep him from taking a bite of her instead. “I’m surprised you aren’t creeped out.”

“With what?”

“With my age,” John makes it clear. “You’re young with a bright future ahead of you–”

“Yet here I am having a date with an old man?” she interjects, wiggles her eyebrows, teasing clearly with the way she emphasizes the last part. “I can’t believe you thought I’m gonna get creeped out. You’re a grown man with a stable job and not to mention very hot, I find that very sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he raises a brow.

“Yes, I think you’re very sexy. I haven’t once encountered a guy my age who has the same status as you,” she sets down the plate on her lap for a moment. “You know, experienced and mature.”

“I see,” John nods. It’s very clear that she’s always found the people who contrast her so well attractive. She wants a savior that would save her from everything, luckily John fits in the description quite too well. 

They delve in a normal conversation after that. John makes sure to steer away all questions regarding him and his life, a way to learn more about her other than the pictures and videos and information he’d been sent by Alex.

John already knows a lot about her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little more.

Ten minutes go by, a bottle of wine has been pulled out of the basket and she’s spilling her whole life to John in a matter of moments. From lttle memories from childhood to how she moved from her hometown to New York to get away from her father. How when she was younger, she begged her toys to talk to her and she wouldn’t tell anyone. How their family pet back in the days impacted the choices she made to choose her career path – to become a veterinarian.

John listens. He’s always been good at listening instead of talking, so he listens. 

5 PM, the two of them play with the dog and she decides to name her “Blue.”

“Is it because she has blue eyes?” John asks.

“Yeah. Not really original, I know, but it fits her.”

“Blue is perfect.”

It’s already 6 PM when they decide to head home. She’s still talking the moment they’re in the car and John is still listening. There’s something about her voice that just… pulls him in. It’s so sweet and soft.

When they arrive outside her apartment complex, it’s dead silent. 

“I really enjoyed our date today, John,” she smiles when he opens the door for her, now standing in front of him and looking up to meet his eyes. “The pasta was delicious. I hope I get to eat more of them in the future – and oh, I really, really enjoyed playing with Blue! I’m so thankful that you let me name her even though it wasn’t really special–”

“Hush,” John jokingly interrupts. “The night might be over, but I can assure you that I will see you soon again.”

“How soon would that be again?”

“Eager to see me already?”

“Maybe.”

“You know I always make time for you, sweetheart,” John croons, placing a large hand on her chin and staring deeply into her eyes. “Is it too early for me to kiss you?”

She laughs, then wraps her arms around his waist to pull him in closer. John looks at her and falls in love for what to be a millionth time today. She never fails to take his breath away. “Not too early, I promise you. You should’ve done that sooner.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it now.”

Before she can add another word, John leans down to smash his lips against hers, his large hand finding its way on the small of her back to deepen the kiss that she can’t help but whimper into his mouth.

Fuck.

Her lips are so, so soft. John can still taste the lingering sweetness of the wine from earlier and being so close to her that her scent is shutting off his entire brain. If he won’t stop, he might just end up fucking her on the hood of his car until she can’t walk straight.

Their lips move in tandem and she’s following his head like she always does. Her small hands are gripping his leather jacket for support, so pliant and vulnerable, already trusting him enough to kiss him on their second date. 

This is a sudden shift in his universe, John knows he’s already won.

He’s the first to pull away and their lips are wet and connected with saliva. She’s flushed and out of breath like expected, John wants nothing more but to break her and make her his.

Oh wait, she already is.

“How was that?” John asks, voice deep.

“I wanna do it again.”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb on her cheeks while she’s busy avoiding his eyes. “Let’s save it for next time.”

He’s gonna control himself.

“That next time better come by fast,” she threatens jokingly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Don’t talk like you’re not gonna see me for days, baby,” John whispers. “You know I won’t let you go that easily. You’re mine now.”

He doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilated and the way the clutch she has on his leather jackets becomes tighter. She’s already fallen deep into his trap, John wants to push his claws in even deeper.

“Say it again,” she mutters, leaning in against his warm large hand as she closes her eyes. “Say it again. Please.”

John smiles when she isn’t looking. He really won.

“You’re mine.”

*

That same night, 4 AM, John is back in his work clothes and arranging something in a dark room.

The stench of metallic blood hitting his nose, and he stands in the middle of the room to inhale that scent – god, does he truly miss it.

The sight of a man in front of him wakes something dangerous within John’s veins. Hands tied up behind the chair, head dropped forward, lifeless and cold. His lower stomach is open, guts hanging off the floor as the other half is used to gag him in the mouth. His eyes are missing, John took the liberty to take them out for staring at him too much, and he couldn’t be any more relieved when he did.

“What do you know?” John had asked as soon as the man woke up from his head concussion.

“Y-You!” The man had yelled, John didn’t bother finding out his name. “You fucking creep –”

John’s hands twitched beside him. He remained silent.

The man went on a rant about how he’d seen John around lurking outside the apartment complex and using the abandoned room on the fifth floor and that’s all John needed to know.

He didn’t need another pair of eyes to tell him what’s right and wrong. Winston is already enough.

The next morning, John receives a text from none other than his bambi. A picture of numerous police cars outside her apartment and an ambulance, and another picture of a dead body covered in white blanket getting pulled out of the building.

Bambi : there was an accident that happened near me, john :(( 

Bambi : the police said somebody was killed and i’m scared

Bambi : they said he was gutted alive 

John is smiling to himself when he types his response.

John : What kind of a sick person would do something like that?

He is not a sick person. He’s just in love.

Taglist: aerangi starrgir1 heluvsvalefr danika1994 fraisejoon doggodorime ohmytate

[cl00udyyanan]

i need some royal!scara x servant!reader brainrot and pls give me a happy ending my poor soul can't take it anymore!! ily!

thank you sm for requesting! i hope this turned out somewhat to your liking and if you were thinking smth a bit dif you can always req again :)!

whose the cruelest of them all-?

synopsis: scara is a mean ruler but for some reason he just so sweet to you

warnings: abuse of power bc scara is mean, if you squint it probs is a bit suggestive but not by much, a bit angsty bc reader is a peasant but i think the ending is kinda cute

characters: royal!scaramouche x reader

notes: this was sorta hard to write i had no idea what direction i wanted to go with this, im working on being more descriptive with my writing so if you have any tips or constructive criticism that would be so appreciated hope you enjoy!

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.}───── ⊰

rumors of your prince spread rapidly through the kingdoms of teyvat. they all spoke of a tyrant with too much power disregarding his helpless people, starving and desperate for their ruler to save them. they say he belittles and berates his servants to the point of tears at the slightest mistake. some even believe that prince scaramouche was not human, just the shell of a man with no heart at all.

you scowled at those rumors, they were nothing but wrong, the prince was kindest as ever to you. not once has he ever belittled you, he was generous enough to offer his palace as a home to you and the other servants, how dare they speak of him that way.

"oh is that my precious servant? come, sit." he beckoned, hand curling towards you and his lap. he had a glint of mischief in his dull eyes. often when it was dinner for the prince and he would ask for you to accompany him as he feasted claiming, 'no meal was enjoyable without his favorite little servant with him'. your cheeks flushed, eyes glued to the ground as you followed your princes orders to him. your hands clenched together as you knew the other servants were glarihn at you, the prince's little play thing. the stares they gave you as you placed yourself between his thighs were unbareable, you could hear what they were saying in their minds. as soon as you got comfortable, scaramocuhe disregarded his food, all his attention on you. your cheeks were practically on fire as he nuzzled into your neck, rough, frigid hands traveling to meet yours.

"people are staring, your highness…" you muttured. he knew how this seemed, how inappropriate it was but still scara shrugged as he placed small kisses onto the nape of your neck. the lavender eyed prince looked up breifly to see a handful of servants trying to hide their gazes. "let them stare," he chuckled "let these nosy rodents watch how i cherish you, my favorite little servant." with his finger, he turned your chin back to him, where his eyes met yours. the prince seldom smiled, but you could sense a sly grin on his lips, he leaned into your ear whispering, "i'd stare too if i was an adorable servant purchased on my rulers lap, huh?" after teasing you, he plucked a strawberry off of his plate, and held in the air infront of you. "open" he comanded. you parted your lips and took a bite of the juicy fruit. sometimes, you could forget the eyes that stared daggers, and the nasty words they spoke of when scaramouche treated you so sweetly. it made you warm inside, like you were on top of the world.

you knew scaramouche saw you as entertainment; it was too good to be true for him to really truly love you. you were just a servant dressed in rags, but you didnt care though. there are times where he had you wrapped in his arms, playing with your hair gently as he cooed at you, the rare times he gifted you expensive jewlery others would faint over, even gifting you a crown of your own. maybe he really did care for you in his own way you hoped. you were insignificant next scaramouche, but sometimes he made you feel like royalty.

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.}───── ⊰

[memesfromstuff]

* A FABLE OF GODS: ARIA OF THE ACCURSED (NOVEL) PART TWO.

feel free to change pronouns, wording, etc. as needed! spoilers ahead.

“ And how many times have you miscalculated before?”

“ It was my fault.”

“ You're not allowed inside.”

“ And [name], I expected better of you.”

“ What's that supposed to mean?”

“ I don't appreciate you lying to us.”

“ You just made a big mistake.”

“ He's not worth it.”

“ Listen to me.”

“ We won't be able to [___] if we're arrested.”

“ We'll go figure something else out, okay?”

“ Next time, maybe lead with that.”

“ Calm down.”

“ I have another idea to get us inside.”

“ What's the point?”

“ Do you really believe that?”

“ Then trust me.”

“ So, what are we doing here?”

“ You're breaking the law?!”

“ You will find that some things are worth breaking the law for.”

“ Then shut up and follow me.”

“ What's done is done, and it's on me and me alone.”

“ You did nothing, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“ And you think anyone else will believe that if they find out?”

“ Fine. But when I end up in prison, just remember, I told you it would happen.”

“ Whatever. Now be quiet.”

“ Just follow my lead and act normal.”

“ Do you even know what you're doing?”

“ I have been here before many times, so I know how the place operates.”

“ You've done this before?”

“ Of course you would've been invited.”

“ Speak of the sun and it shall shine.”

“ As it happens, we have something urgent we need to discuss with you.”

“ How did you know?”

“ You expect me to believe no one told you before today?”

“ I don't expect you to believe anything.”

“ As you can imagine, no one else wished to end up with the same reputation as you.”

“ What matters is this; you have my attention. What will you do with it?”

“ I... had to use Arcaion to get out of the situation unharmed.”

“ If it happened like you said, you made the right decision.”

“ I will not fault you for it, nor punish you.”

“ I know. Poor choice of words. I apologize.”

“ If we want to survive this, our only option is to relocate.”

“ I hope your stay here has been satisfactory.”

“ When you spend most of your time at sea among friends, it is easy to forget how to behave in public spaces.”

“ You sure? It didn’t sound fine.”

“ You haven’t finally lost it, have you? Not that I’d blame you.”

“ No, no! I promise I haven’t lost my marbles just yet.”

“ You just let them leave?”

“ Whoa… That’s a huge tip.”

“ Either way, it’s not like you can give it back to him now that he’s gone. You should take it.”

“ I can’t just take it! What if they come back and ask for it?”

“ Then I’ll pay it back for you.”

“ That’s… that’s very sweet of you, but I can’t let you do that.”

“ I know the kind of pay we receive here, and let’s be honest, it’s not a lot.”

“ Maybe I have a second job that pays better.”

“ Take it. I won’t tell anyone.”

“ I… I truly don’t deserve your kindness.”

“ I don’t know, but it must be something big, because no one’s supposed to know about it yet.”

“ Wait. Then how do you know?”

“ I have my ways.”

“ One day you’re going to have to tell me, you know.”

“ Great work? That’s all you have to say?”

“ Surely you haven’t forgotten how stressful it was to practice for the Signía?”

“ Today was a blessing, but… It was just luck.”

“ We keep practically starving ourselves and working ourselves to death.”

“ We can’t keep living like this, you know?”

“ What if we moved?”

“ I don’t… I mean, we can barely afford to live, and you want to move?”

“ Arcaion is legal there.”

“ There’s a reason Arcaion is only permitted in certain circumstances, you know this.”

“ Perhaps Arcaion is not as bad as they make it out to be.”

“ Why do we keep living here and struggle every day, when we could have a much better life elsewhere?”

“ There has to be other options.”

“ Then what do you suggest?”

“ There is someone there. A man who provides payment in exchange for information.”

“ What kind of information?”

“ It pays well.”

“ You’re right. I’m sorry…”

[shiinayumi]

An imagine for my sweet precious Gyomei's birthday~ (just a simple Fluff! Set in the Kimetsu Gakuen/Academy verse, for this imagine Gyomei can see simply because he seems to really see in the Academy version?) Also may come off more as headcanons your girl hasn't written shit in years 😂😂 not edited or proof read, also I'm so tired pls go easy on me💀

It's your beloved Gyomei's birthday and you have a fun day planned for him! Thankfully his birthday fell during summer break so you had ALL DAY to spoil him. His apartment sadly doesn't allow for cats, so he often spends the night at your apartment because yours is pet friendly and you happen to have some cats that Mei just can't get enough of and they just ADORE being so spoiled by the man. You woke up early to see both of your cats curled up on your fiancées chest softly purring, as you headed to the kitchen to make him a cute breakfast. Cat shaped toast, with sunny side up eggs for eyes with bacon cut into thin strips for whiskers. You made him a few of them since being that large and muscular had food needs that you were frankly jealous of. Cute cat mashmallow in dark steong tea instead of coffee for him, looking like it clinged to the edge of the cuo smiling.

Gyomei walks out of the room groggy but smiling, holding the two cats slightly wiggling to be let go to for their own breakfast already prepared.

"Hello my beautiful~" he says gently voice still sleepy giving you a kiss by the temple, only to look at you a little silly when you giggle.

"Did you forget?"

Oh no. Was it something important with the house you're having built together? Is your family here early? Or on time and he forgot? Seeing his poor mind swirl you wrap arms around him as best you can and motion for him to bend down a little for you, you whisper.

"Happy birthday my love~!" You get out through soft laughs and returning the kiss on his head.

He freezes for a moment, holding you close, eyes zoning out a little.

"Oh! So it is. Thank you my sweet." Smiling softly, giving you another soft kiss on your head as his brain winds back down.

You guide him to the kitchen where his breakfast of cat themed goodies awaits, his face immediately lighting up, tears pricking his eyes and falling down in happiness. You sat with him eating your breakfast together, chatting and telling him to dress cozy for the next event today.

~~

After breakfast, you both hopped around the morning, meeting friends receiving gifts and birthday wishes for Gyomei. You talked about maybe having a small party for him later once the house was complete since it's hard to fit everyone into an apartment, and having all the attention on him makes him shy as is let alone in public at a bar or restaurant. So for today, just a relaxing series of events planned by yours truly. You had plenty of gifts for him at home for later, but you just couldn't help getting him some cute little things he would spy, tears of appreciation every time, after trepidation and phrases of "you don't have too" and "you don't need to spend the money on me", too late love the cat phone charm and cat themed student grade stamps are purchased and put into his hands.

While walking around your (insert family member) called wishing Gyomei a happy birthday and that they will see him soon and have gifts for him as well. You both found a decent area of land to build a nice size house to accommodate Gyomei's size and for the potential for a family be it pets and or kids. You asked for an extra space for your family member to live with you and Gyomeinwas actually pleased, being an orphan he didn't have much in the way of family other than the other kids and monks that ran the orphanage, so he was family starved one could say. You were his whole world, though, and if it was just the two of you, well he has a whole world to himself.

Once lunch came around, you took him to your next surprise for him, a reservation at a super popular cat café! They were so popular with citizens and tourists you had to get tickets weeks in advance to get in. It was thanks to Mitsuri actually for love of food and also cats she helped you in the lottery to get the tickets. You made sure Gyomei knew about her hard work and also picked out a cute souvenir for her as thanks. Gyomei had tears on his face as he was covered in cats. If you didn't force him to eat the cute café treats, he would have missed lunch, between the oh so cute actual cats, and the almost too cute to eat food served.

Once you got ready to leave the man was so covered in hair he almost looked like a cat himself. Thankfully the staff insisted on helping remove all of it before leaving. You're pretty sure many of the people there, workers and patrons alike, were enamored in one way or another with your fiancée, such a giant fearsome looking man absolutely in tears and smiling over cuteness overload from such small fuzzy animals. You couldn't blame them, you also where enamored with Gyomei.

~~

You gently held onto Gyomei's pinky qith yours as you took him to the next surprise and perhaps the biggest. He looked utterly confused going into the back of a building, clean and sterile looking, with all kinds of noises. Once walking in he seen so many animals, realizing it was a shelter. Leaning down he whispers in confusion,

"My love, you're not adopting another pet are you? We should be careful to not spook any new ones so close to being able to move."

You grab his face gently and kiss his nose,

"Not exactly adopting so don't worry, but..well just come look."

You greet one of the staff and give then your name, recognition and smile gracing their gentle features,

"Excellent right on time! Thank you so much for doing this, it can be so hard to find people for this!" She says as she leads you as you hold Gyomei's hand, to what looks like a baby incubator and it really sort of is. You let go of his hand and move closer as the worker opens the door,

"Gyomei's please close your eyes and hold out your hands."

The poor man looks so confused, what could you be handing him from an incubator looking device in a pet shelter of all places especially if not getting a pet? But he, ever patient and trusting you, he does as asked, and is rewarded with hearing feet shuffling, small little noises, and you're sweet gentle shushes you save for your pets or admittedly him when he was so sick once before. And than he feels the brushing of your fingers as you out something small so small and fuzzy in his hands, well it fit in one hand really, wiggling around when he heard you say he could look.

He opens his eyes, and oh by any gods or maybe even Buddha, there is a teeny tiny thing in his hands. So small, eyes sealed shut wiggling around to crawl his massive hand.

"I got asked to foster some neonate kittens, well newborn baby kittens, while their momma receives some attention. She was on the streets, but someone caught her and all the babies and brought them in, but they needed someone to care for the babies until the mom is better."

You explain but you see Gyomei just absolutely stare at the already tiny, looks even more tiny in his hand, newborn kitten, not even sure he heard you as tears stream down his face. The worker almost looks concerned for the man's well-being before you assure her he's just a very sensitive empathetic man (which earns him praise from the worker with you and those onlooking).

After a moment, once you give Gyomei a chair to sit on, with the kitten absorbing the warmth from his hands, he finally speaks,

"These will be at home?" Reffering to your apartment, seemingly forgetting he had his own. Fun fact he didn't really forget his apartment perse, just that wherever you are is where home is. And as it stands, the kittens have to stay with you, and since you're home well, yea, they'll be at home.

You take the other four kittens, and walk over placing them all on his hand. All five fit one hand, but he holds both out for safety and so they can move.

"Yes Gyomei, these little fuzzy beans will be at home. Our cats at home are pretty well behaved with babies, so it should be fine." You say smiling, just watching him absolutely ENRAPTURED by tiny kittens. One of whom was trying to suckle his fingertip. His cheeks puffed into his smile over cute things he can't handle, as you and the worker giggle.

~~

After getting back home, you have Gyomei sit in the living room to make his dinner as a surprise, his favorite, takikomi gohan. You managed to find dried matsutake to add to the rice for cooking, since it wasn't quiet in season yet but really wanted to treat Gyomei. He does so much for everyone around him, and often holds himself back from what he wants to be a good role model and help others, you want him to feel the same love in return. You may have heard from Uzui's wives, that the students where planning a nice surprise for him when school started again in a few days. Those kids may seem a little goofy at times but all of his students at least respected him enough to not do anything bad. And you came by the school enough that the students knew that where maybe they could sneak things aways with Gyomei due to his forgiving nature, that could NOT with you and not when it involved your soon to be husband.

Speaking of, you peaked up from fileting the fish to see Gyomei still just watching over the kittens. He loves cats but has never really seen newborns, at least not in person. His gentle smile as he pet the two adult cats who were so far behaving with the babies warmed your heart. Gyomei was honestly meant to be a dad, and no one could convince you otherwise. Aside from how he is with kids and always has been with them, to how invested he is in doing the best for the kittens it was just obvious. He immediately wanted to know how to care for them, and absolutely took notes on how you explained to take notes on their feeding weights, how to measure their formula and make it and test the temperature, and how to help them go to the bathroom and brush them with a toothbrush to feel like their mothers tongue. None of it did he shy away from, and one of your cats also decided to take notes with him.

He sniffed the air as the rice cooked noticing the familiar smell of mushrooms and other vegetables cooking with the rice. He finally turned around,

"Takikomi? For dinner?" He said absolutely smiling.

"It's your favorite isn't it? So of course for your birthday!" You say smiling flipping the fish.

He comes to you and wraps his arms around your waist, a dangerous game to play while you cook, normally territorial in the kitchen while cooking. And he pushes further, placing his head on yours. Tonight, you let him and smile and sink back a little into his arms, while warning him of possible fish splatter on his arms. He has a full laugh,

"Have you seen the scars on me? A little splatter won't hurt me" he says in a rare cheeky moment. Well, at least a cheeky moment he intended anyway!

You giggle, working around your fiancée being goofy in a rare show, as he refuses to let you go and just shuffles behind you, arms still around your waist, as you move around the kitchen trying to finish dinner. You can't be mad, though, and just keep laughing every time you have to move. He is helpful, though grabbing things his massive frame blocks from your access. As you attempt to put the dishes of food together, Gyomei happily sniffing over everything by your ear, he tells you to stop trying to lift the dishes.

"Gyomei I'm trying to take them to the table by the TV! I want to do dinner with a movie." You say between peals of laughter as everything you try to grab something, he grabs it and puts it down, before finally just picking you up and depositing you on the couch, leaving to grab your meals, but not before hitting a ticklish spot to prevent you from trying to get up. Your cats look at you as if you've lost it finally.

"Gyomei it's your birthday let me get the food while you get cozy!" You fake pout, resulting in him poking your cheek gently while he sets the food down.

"You've already done so much for me today, I can at least bring the food. Besides, you want the day to be about me and what I would want, and what if I want to spoil you back?"

"You can spoil me another day!"

"I could, but what if I don't want to wait?"

Between soft laughs all you can say is that he's goofy and sweet, but that you adore that about him. Gyomei hid this side a lot, largley out of shyness, and getting to see him goofy though always sincere and knowing he means what he says, hits you in the heart like it always has.

You settle close to him and grab a blanket to out on your laps as you sit on the floor, backs to the couch, legs and blanket under the table as you get ready to eat. You pull up a movie, an older animated one, jittery with excitement to show it to Gyomei.

"Cats don't dance?"

You smile as he reads the title.

"Yea its a little older but it's cute and I thought you'd like it!" You say so excited to show him the movie. You where so happy to find one with subtitles! Originally in English and while Gyomei can understand and use English just fine you felt subtitles would be a little more comfortable.

You sit together laughing and eating and watching his reaction to the movie, of course so many tears from him and so much joy. At the end, finally putting the dishes away after washing them, taking care of the kittens next feeding, together of course, you made Gyomei a bath to relax. Once you both took turns (sadly your bath was barely able to hold Gyomei let alone the both of you to even just relax, something the new house would fix~) you drag your feet towards the bedroom before Gyomei just picks you up again to carry you to bed, though placing you more gently than how he plopped you onto the couch earlier. He caresses your face before a cat walks between you two, both now laughing petting the fuzzy attention demander. Over purrs you hear Gyomei thank you.

"Thank you my beloved, today was wonderful. I'm so happy I get to be with such an attentive and caring person. I love all of the cat themed activities today. Though I must ask why so much cat?"

You giggle and than swat away a cat butt in your face,

"Because you try so hard to be subtle and adult in how you present yourself, I wanted you to just have fun and fully enjoy what you love. Because I love you~."

Gyomei hums, as he smiles and puts the cat om the ground which was rare. He turns off the lights, sliding in close to you snuggling close,

"I love you too, more than I could ever hope to express. Though maybe I can try."

You both giggle through smiles as you kiss, the rest that happens only will you, Gyomei, and maybe the cats will know~.

たんじょうび おめでとう 悲鳴嶼 行冥 さま💖💖💖 愛している

[clowncollectr]

Arknights - Everything between us, as it should be (Liang Xun / Lee) - Chapter 3

Rating: G

Word Count: 5895 (this chapter), 28397 (whole story)

Summary: It’s Liang Xun’s second time visiting Lungmen. The circumstances are much better compared to last time. There’s no rush. Familiar faces, new faces. More happy memories to join the old ones. Between him and Lee, things are finally as they should be.

AO3 Link

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

__________ Chapter 3: Even if it’s just an act, I still… As promised, that missing pet case really was the last thing left in terms of business for Lee’s agency. And thanks to some fairly enthusiastic volunteers, it was resolved in a matter of days. Now it was time for everyone to enjoy a well-deserved break. Lee had mentioned that he made plans for the weekend and for everyone to make sure they were available then. Obviously, he wanted to show Liang Xun around, but everyone was still curious as to what he had in mind.

When the weekend finally came, they were pleasantly surprised to find that his choice was an excellent one. Of course, there were lots of things to do in Lungmen. Lee wasn’t exactly starving for options. But one of the city’s local riverwalks was certainly a smart pick. Lungmen’s massive man-made river could be seen before you even entered the city. Not only was it pretty to look at, it also served many practical purposes, acting as a natural defense, canal, and water reserve for the city.

Much like Shangshu’s mountains, it served as a scenic backdrop. It reminded all of the city’s residents that despite all the hardships mankind may face, it would always persevere and adapt. Even if the catastrophes forced them out of their homes, they would simply take their rivers and mountains with them. Unlike the mountains however, the river and its nearby ports are much more pleasing to the eye when enveloped by night, under the moon’s watchful glow.

Naturally, if there was darkness, there would also be lanterns. That was precisely why Lee insisted they come once the sun began to set. Once again, he brought everyone along. Not that he would’ve minded strolling by the pier with Liang Xun, with just the two of them admiring the boats and lanterns together…

He decided against it. It would’ve been a waste not to bring everyone anyway. This type of activity was good for people of all ages. No doubt the kids (who aren’t actually kids anymore but they’re kids to him) would have a great time. Plus their additional company would keep his mind from wandering to places where it shouldn’t go, as it often tends to when that person is around.

Since most of the group had been there before, there wasn’t much of a reaction to the scenery before them. But from the corner of his eyes, Lee furtively observed Liang Xun’s reactions. Relief and a fair bit of pride rose in his heart when he saw that the reaction was good. As much as he hates to admit it, it’s been a long time. It’s hard to say what his friend has experienced after all this time. Maybe this type of thing was commonplace to him now. Lee’s already seen the kind of place he’s living in nowadays. He’s hardly the same village boy from back then.

Still, he had faith. Things that are mundane and commonplace. There’s beauty to be found in such things as well. He was confident that Liang Xun would be able to appreciate it too. So when he saw the golden light of the lanterns reflected in his eyes, he couldn’t help but echo the other’s subtle smile.

Suddenly, without warning, those eyes flickered towards him, and the poor carp was forced to pretend that their eye contact occurred by pure coincidence. Liang Xun saw that he already had the other person’s attention, so there was no need to call out to him before he spoke.

“I’m always surrounded by all the tourism going on in Shangshu. But now that I think about it, I haven’t been able to travel much ever since I became the magistrate. Now that I’m finally on the other side of things, I see why we get so many visitors.”

Liang Xun let out a modest laugh. More like a content hum, but his expression is fairly neutral most of the time, so it still caught everyone’s attention. Without needing to communicate it verbally, they all thought something similar. This is a good sign, right? Mission accomplished?

Now the group’s overall morale was quite high. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Lee began directing them through the various shops, restaurants, and other amenities that bordered the river. It was the type of aimless wandering that always ends up being surprisingly enjoyable, especially when you’re with good company.

They were there for a relaxing time, free of any exciting events or unexpected incidents. Aak and Waai Fu in particular had promised Lee that they wouldn’t cause trouble today, as their tendency to either skirt around the law or enforce it often caused. But it was hard to control the unexpected. They managed to get through a good hour or so of window shopping and admiring the colorful decorations before running into today’s wild card.

At some point, Aak started running ahead of everyone, which he often did when he was excited or running from trouble. This time he was just trying to get them a spot in line at a particularly popular street food stall down the block. It wasn’t much of a surprise when he eventually ran face first into someone while he wasn’t looking.

What was surprising was the fact that the person he ran into recognized him. Though to be fair, their group knew a lot of people.

“Well well, if it isn’t Lee and the gang. Didn’t think I’d run into you guys here. Been awhile, hasn’t it?” The woman Aak bumped into didn’t seem offended at all. Despite her crossed arms, she had the same casual, playful expression that she always wore.

Seeing who it was, Lee stepped forward, greeting her by bowing his head and lightly tipping his hat. Uncharacteristically polite of him. Her response was to let out a small chuckle, obviously finding his actions entertaining. It became clear at that point that what he did was more of a joke than actual courtesy.

“Heh. Smooth as always. You lot are always up to something fun. Helps that your boss is one of the few people in this city that can find me something halfway decent to eat too.”

Before she could continue, another familiar voice called out to her. It was a younger woman, a Sarkaz with purple hair, currently running towards them. As she got closer, she started raising her voice in frustrated tone:

“Gaah! I told you not to go anywhere! I already said I only need a couple minutes to talk to security to make sure they understand what’s going on. I get that being free-spirited is kind of ‘your thing’ but can you seriously not stand still for a couple minutes? What were you gonna do if I actually lost you?”

“Relax, l’il Lava. Don’t tell me you’d seriously lose me in a crowd of normal civilians. Don’t I have a special aura that shows the audience how story relevant I am?

Lee and “the gang”, as their first surprise visitor puts it, watched the two bicker. If one party doing the scolding and the other party not taking the conversation seriously at all could even be called an argument. Eventually, the two settled down long enough for Lava to turn around and rub the back of her head, clearly embarrassed about what everyone had just witnessed.

“Uh”, she started awkwardly. “Sorry if Nian said anything too weird before I got here. You guys already know by now that she likes to mess around.”

Nian chimed in to defend herself.

“What’s with the rock bottom standards? All I’ve done so far is say hi.”

Lava’s scowl didn’t leave her face, but seeing that no one spoke up to refute Nian’s statement, she relaxed her shoulders a little. Once the adrenaline from her irritation and panic began to wear off, she started to notice how big the crowd around her had gotten. And they were all looking at her, patiently waiting for her to continue. It made her feel self-conscious, and she found herself struggling to come up with something to say.

Nian was more than happy to tag herself in, drawing the unwanted attention away from the young girl. She looked back at Lee and continued her small talk from earlier.

“So what brings you guys here. Just hanging out?”

“Essentially. We’re showing a guest around. Ah, I suppose you two have technically met, but I should introduce you again.” Lee replied, waving his hand at Liang Xun to signal him to move closer.

Once he was close enough, the detective placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and began a proper introduction.

“This is Liang Xun. He’s-”

“Oh I remember him.”

“You do?” Both men gave her a surprised look.

“Yeah, he’s the dude who’s house I went to when the Grand Tutor summoned me and my sisters, right? Glad to know at least one of you important people considered the possibility that we don’t want the place we live in destroyed just as much as the rest of you guys. Anyway, thanks for trying to help Ling out. Not that she really needed it. Oh and thanks for not trying to kill us too I guess.”

Nian extended a hand out in greeting and looked at Liang Xun expectantly.

He’s made no comment about it this whole time, but to be honest, Liang Xun is a bit confused at the moment. To start, he’s only ever encountered the Sui twice in his lifetime. Once as a child when he witnessed one of them save his city. The second time was the recent incident, when one of them nearly destroyed it. So he’s always been under the impression that these beings are basically gods. They’ve witnessed history unfold before their very eyes. They possess powers no normal Terran could ever hope to achieve. It’s strange to interact with them so casually.

Actually. What’s Lee doing conversing with them like they’re old acquaintances? The carp’s always been good at talking to other people. He’s the type who’s on friendly terms with everyone. But this is bizarre even for him. Does he treat this land’s gods like they’re his neighbors too? He’s just going out to dinner with people who can decide the fate of the nation? Even from his own position of authority, Liang Xun’s always been very cautious about this topic. In his line of work, such matters are typically discussed in hushed voices, behind the privacy of closed doors.

“Lee, your friend’s kinda weird. Does he not know what a handshake is?”

“He’s probably processing some stuff right now. Give him a moment.”

It wasn’t that he was spacing out, but rather, Liang Xun just wasn’t sure how to approach this situation. Well, no matter who it was, it’s still rude to keep someone waiting. He mustn’t forget his courtesies. He quickly reached out to shake the woman’s hand and said politely: “Miss Nian, it’s an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”

Upon hearing this, she exploded with laughter, looking at least ten times more amused than when she greeted Lee. In between fits of laughter, she managed to piece together her words.

“Wha-...pfft…ahaha! Man, what the hell? If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you were trying to sell me something. What’s with the weird formalities, especially when you’re with these people right now? Are ya saying hi to me as Lee’s bro or as a representative for the government? Make up your mind!”

Out of some forgotten habit, Liang Xun’s eyes turned towards Lee and the expression on his face sent a very apparent and distraught message. Please help.

Unfortunately, the recipient of this message responded with his own torrent of laughter. But perhaps there was some mercy there too, since Lee suddenly wrapped his arm around the Kuranta’s neck and pulled him closer towards himself. He was obviously making fun of him too, but it sort of seemed like he was trying to help.

“You’ll have to forgive him, miss. This guy’s actually very well-spoken. If it’s something important, he’s a formidable opponent. But he’s around serious women all day. Maybe he’s a little out of practice talking to ones like you, hm?”

A grin formed on Nian’s face. She didn’t bother to hide at all how much she was enjoying this interaction. But as it turns out, the Lung’s words were surprisingly effective at getting the desired results. She let out one last satisfied sigh before calming down.

“Ok free pass. Your own friend’s bullying you now. That’s punishment enough. Since his taste in food is good, I trust his taste in friends too. Besides, I got something else I wanna talk about.”

“Oh?”

Lee raised his eyebrows.

Even when he’s supposed to be on vacation, his business sense remains intact. If someone has something to say to him of all people, then of course he listens.

Nian wasted no time excitedly explaining her new project. It was a good thing Lava was by her side to fill in the less exciting details. To summarize, they were working on another movie, with a script more dubious sounding than the last one. Per Nian’s signature style, it was another action thriller packed with high stakes and nonstop fight scenes.

Honestly, the plot kind of goes a little over the older men’s heads. Something about an ex-assassin, played by Lava, who was in retirement but returns after their pet originium slug is killed by members of an evil syndicate. The slug was the only remaining family member they had left because the only other person they cared about passed away recently. So the protagonist returns to their abandoned past life and swears vengeance on the syndicate. They end up embarking on a quest for revenge, helping several people along the way.

…Nian swears that the stunts and fight scenes she has planned will do most of the heavy lifting. “Trust me. The audience will be on the edge of their seats the entire time!” she insisted.

To make her vision happen, she needed Lee’s agency to help with shooting the film. She and Lava had a script ready. They had the equipment. They even had the setting picked out. Both co-directors had decided that the riverwalk would be the perfect eye-catching place to film most of the scenes. But they still needed actors. Many Rhodes Island members that might have been a good choice were currently out on missions. And RI leadership (note: Kal’tsit) would definitely disapprove if she found out they were taking people away from the landship to shoot a movie.

The most difficult part was the fact that Nian wanted to do stunts, so involving untrained civilians or novice actors was out of the question. This was exactly why she saw today’s chance encounter as an intervention of fate. Hung, Aak, and Waai Fu have already played parts in her last movie. And there’s no doubt that they could handle dangerous situations and knew how to fight. It was a match made in heaven.

The three were happy to oblige. They thought being able to participate in a movie was cool. Unlike their seniors, they understood the appeal and found the movie’s premise very fun. It seemed things were shaping up to fall in Nian’s favor. However, she didn’t miss the way Lee worriedly glanced back at Liang Xun. Rather than beating around the bush, she reassured them directly by clarifying, “Don’t worry, I have parts for you two as well!”

The detective gave a slight nod, expressing his gratitude before explaining to her.

“That’s not the problem. I was thinking. This guy probably isn’t too keen on becoming a celebrity any time soon. Think I may have to sit this one out with him.”

Not one to take no for an answer, Nian quickly fired back.

“You think I’m one of those sellouts who’s only here to put together some soulless blockbuster to turn over to those Columbian executives in Wrankwood? I do this for self-expression! For the artistry! Doesn’t matter if the only people who are ever gonna see it are a couple good friends at Rhodes Island and maybe some of my siblings. Shouldn’t be a problem in that case, right?”

Lee gave her a difficult look. He really doesn’t like having to tell clients no, let alone friends. But he wasn’t about to pressure someone into doing something they didn’t want to either. “Even so…” he began, but the woman in front of him interrupted with another retort. “Oh! You two can be scene extras. All you have to do is chill in the background and enjoy the place like you would’ve done anyway. Come on. I’ll compensate everyone. I’ll treat the whole group to this killer hot pot place after.”

That last statement caught Lava attention, and she immediately made sure to give her friend a not-so gentle reminder.

“You’re unemployed.”

Nian looked at her for a second before continuing her conversation with Lee. “Ok. I’ll show you an awesome hot pot place, but the bill will be paid individually. And uh, let’s just say I owe you a favor. How’s that sound?”

For a while, it seemed like neither party was willing to relent, and if nothing was done, they would have continued negotiating for a long time. So Liang Xun intervened in the end. He thanked Lee for sticking up for him but assured him that if he really hated the idea, he could stand up for himself.

“It’s not too much trouble”, the Kuranta said with a weary expression. “I don’t want to be a source of inconvenience for people. We just have to idle in the background, right? No need to fuss.”

He didn’t say it, but there was another line of thinking there too. Miss Nian has a very casual personality, but they shouldn’t forget who she is. In business or in politics, it’s an unspoken rule not to get on the bad side of people with power or connections when you can make them allies instead. Lee probably thought something similar, hence his hesitation to deny her.

It’s a similar scenario to earlier this week when they paid that neighborhood a visit. This situation looked strange at a glance, but if you think about it, the outcome was nothing but good. Helping friends, earning a favor from someone powerful, and they would still be able to tour the place as planned.

Although Liang Xun couldn’t help but wonder whether this type of situation happened often for Lee and his agency. It would certainly make for an interesting lifestyle.

After the negotiations were over, Nian and Lava began handing out copies of the script and assigning parts to everyone. Everyone was concerned at the amount of lines they’d have to memorize at first, but Lava reassured them that they had “borrowed” a teleprompter from Closure, which of course they would notify her of at a later date.

The exciting roles had gone to Hung, Aak, and Waai Fu, who were tasked with playing the part of elite members of the evil syndicate that Lava’s character was supposed to fight. 

As Nian promised, she gave a background role to Lee and Liang Xun. Although she seemed a bit disappointed, sighing and muttering something along the lines of “These two characters are just bystanders that get caught up in the action. Honestly, I would’ve liked these roles to have gone to a cute young couple or something. Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.”

“Does that type of thing matter that much?” the carp asked with some curiosity.

“No offense Lee, but a beautiful lady being in danger versus some scruffy middle aged guy needing help would definitely get very different levels of sympathy from the audience.”

“Ouch.”

Lee pretended to look hurt by her comment, and in a similar vein, Liang Xun lightly patted his friend’s back a couple times to seem as if he was comforting him. Clearly, they were all just messing around and the atmosphere between everyone remained pleasant.

Once everyone had gotten settled into their roles, there were little to no issues. Waai Fu and Hung, despite being as far from villains as one could get, played their roles quite well. As long as they didn’t talk much, it was their obvious martial training that was shown to the cameras rather than their lack of acting skills. And Aak was…well, he was a little too good at looking and sounding like a villain but at least he seemed like he was having fun.

Even though the current scene called for them both to be by the waterfront and facing the river, Lee and Liang Xun could still hear the chaos that was going on behind them. Sounds of mock fighting, some corny one-liners, and shuffling footsteps. Fortunately, Lava was very responsible despite her young age, and she’d discussed the matter with security and prepared signs beforehand. There was no worry of any bystanders actually thinking that a real fight was going on.

Though such an event honestly wouldn’t be that out of place for Lungmen. In fact, a certain someone from the agency has gotten into public fights “in the name of justice” more than a couple times. Lee was reminded of those incidents, and so with nothing better to do, he began to complain about it among other things. He talked about the kids causing trouble, but also about how they were doing a lot more now than he did when he was young.

“When we were kids, all we did was climb trees and catch bugs or something.”

“I didn’t do that. You and Huai did that.” Liang Xun frowned disapprovingly and corrected him.

“Ah, but you were there to witness it. That makes you an accomplice.”

He only sighed at the other’s witty comeback and thought:

Really, arguing with you is always too troublesome.

But Liang Xun regarded this complaint with a sense of fondness, like a terrible joke from a friend, which one might groan at but find endearing in the end. He couldn’t deny that he’s missed it somewhat. Lee may have been right about what he said to Nian earlier. Maybe he really has been around serious people for too long.

He let that thought linger, content to enjoy the silence combined with the mesmerizing view of the lake as well as the other person’s calming presence.

The sight before him was easy to appreciate. It was reminiscent of Shangshu’s own rivers, which are always populated by small boats like the ones used by boatmen like Shen Lou. But there were elements that were different too. Like the city itself, the atmosphere of Lungmen’s waters lends itself well to nightlife. There was much more variety in the types of boats scattered across the river. Some were for transporting goods and others were ferries, no doubt meant to give their passengers a more romantic view of the city.

From where he was standing, the small lights coming from the boats, resembling small lanterns which seemed to decorate the lake, had its own charm. While looking out towards those vessels, some either grew bigger or disappeared completely depending on the direction they were headed.

Liang Xun watched them drift gracefully along the water, and he found his thoughts drifting too. And after some time, as if those thoughts had finally docked at a meaningful destination, he suddenly remembered something he’d always meant to ask.

His movements were relaxed, but he turned towards the person next to him with a sincere expression, speaking gently.

“Can I ask you something?”

Lee, who appears to also have been admiring the view, glanced back at him. He seemed surprised by his question, a fleeting reaction that was quickly replaced with a lazy smile.

“You already have”, the detective responded jokingly.

“...”

“Hah. The kids didn’t find that joke very funny either. Guess I shouldn’t be expecting you of all people to laugh as well.”

“I’m serious.”

“As opposed to when you’re not serious?”

Liang Xun looked at the other person helplessly, silently pleading for them to cooperate. Regardless of whether it was effective or not, the carp eventually relented and started to wave his hands in a placating manner.

“Alright alright. Don’t give me that look. I already have an idea of what you want to ask. Needed to get the jokes out of my system first, you know? Go ahead. Whatever it is, I’ll answer honestly.”

There was a momentary pause. For a second, it seemed as if Liang Xun didn’t want to bring up the topic anymore. But in the end, he still asked.

“Why did you choose to keep your family name? I saw that you…you didn’t keep the other name.”

“Hm”, Lee closed his eyes as if he was thinking about his answer. “There was a time when I thought it would have been nice if I could start over from a clean slate. But the truth is no one can completely erase their past. It doesn’t define who you are now, but it’s where you started. It’s a part of you no matter what. There’s no helping that.”

“Lee…”

The atmosphere had become a bit melancholy. He didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable between them, but he doesn’t want to pretend that nothing happened either.

“Well, that’s all sophistry. The short answer is it’s because I’m sentimental. Some things, I just wasn’t ready to leave behind. A few things I didn’t want to forget.”

Lee looked back at him before continuing. “Besides, Lee is a pretty common name in Yan. Anyone who finds me with a lead like that would have to go through a lot of trouble.”

“I’m glad I found you.”

Liang Xun’s words were met with a strange smile. It was different from how this person usually smiled.

“Then I made the right call.”

Another stretch of silence fell between them. 

Feeling guilty for bringing up such a serious subject, Liang Xun coughed and directed the conversation back to more mundane topics. Though he didn’t regret bringing it up, and he was glad he found the courage to ask.

The rest of the night should have been business as usual. There were only a handful of scenes left for Nian and Lava to shoot at the riverwalk. One of them was particularly interesting, as it was the whole reason Nian had asked the two men to play background characters in the first place.

She mentioned earlier that there was supposed to be a part in the script where the bystanders would get involved in the clash between the protagonist and the villains. Turns out, this was referring to Lee’s character being held hostage by the bad guys…which were currently being played by Hung, Aak, and Waai Fu. It seemed no one had stopped to consider how ridiculous this scenario would look.

Lee playing the part of a damsel in distress was a very odd casting choice. He’s probably one of the most self-sufficient guys around. But they were short-staffed, and he’d already agreed to it so there was no sense getting hung up on the small details.

They continued on. Everyone got to their places. The villains crowded around the victim, the hero confronted the villains, and the bystander waited behind the hero for a successful rescue. Everyone conveniently chose to ignore the fact that Lee looked more like their boss (because he literally is) than their captive.

What followed was a series of stereotypical action movie dialogue. Cliché lines like “your life ends here” and “I’ll put a stop to your wicked ways” and so on. None of them were actors and this was clearly a project being made for fun, so the volunteers didn’t think much of it. They just followed along, reading the lines shown on the teleprompter.

Things were proceeding smoothly until an unexpected line appeared.

Bystander B: Please save my girlfriend. I was going to propose to her today.

They all knew who this line was for. The question was…is he supposed to say it? Or rather, would he choose to say it? It’s as out of place as it could be. They all subtly glanced at him, then at the director, who was currently sitting in her chair and staring at a copy of the script in her hands, muttering.

“Oh shit. I forgot I wrote that line in. So that’s why I wanted it to be a couple huh.”

She took a second to consider her options. They could always re-shoot the scene. But no one’s broken character yet, so they could totally save this if they acted fast.

It honestly didn’t matter to her. Friends. A couple. Whatever those two wanted to do. She just thought this scene would be more interesting if the audience was invested in the rescue, so she added that line at some point.

Actually, it would be pretty funny to watch Lee’s friend get flustered again. But she was feeling generous and perhaps even a tad bit responsible for neither adjusting the script nor warning those two. So Nian quickly grabbed one of Lava’s leftover signs and a nearby marker and got to writing.

To say Liang Xun was perplexed would be an understatement. He wasn’t aware that he even had any lines. Wasn’t he supposed to be a background character? And what’s with this dialogue? He can’t do that. Saying something like that to Lee would definitely embarrass him. Maybe they could laugh it off, but this was being recorded and the other person never agreed to it. Even if they were playing characters, it was too outrageous. 

He was happy to play along but definitely not at the other man’s expense.

Liang Xun looked towards Nian and was about to ask her to intervene when he noticed that she was holding up a sign which read:

Sorry, Forgot to rewrite the script. Just say he needs to be saved because he still owes you money or something lol. You can improv. Don’t care. Keep going!!!

The corners of his mouth turned downwards. That wasn’t any better at all. Isn’t he offending him either way? This is…he needed to come up with something else. As long as it’s close, it should be fine.

Around this same time, Lee’s inner thoughts were much simpler by comparison. Right now, he was only thinking something like “I am so thankful for every life decision that has led me to this moment.” Because it’s taking every ounce of self-control in his body right now to keep himself from laughing. He could feel his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold back the laughter, and he did his best to put on a terrified expression. Hopefully this would make it seem like he was only trying to put on a convincing performance as a scared hostage. Definitely not on the verge of tears.

He glanced back at the man of the hour and considered the current situation with great amusement.

Liang Xun, don’t tell me you haven’t changed. You have no trouble making the difficult decisions everyone else is too afraid to deal with. But when it comes to simple things like this, you always overthink it. What’s with that agonized look on your face? We can always just reshoot the scene. I don’t care what you decide to say anyway so-

“Um, please do whatever it takes to save him. He’s very precious to me.”

…..

This whole incident felt like it had gone on for a long time, but it all happened within a matter of seconds. Their director seemed satisfied, having responded with an enthusiastic thumbs up. It was hard to say what everyone else thought about the whole affair since miraculously, everyone had managed to stay in character.

The rest of that night really was business as usual. Nian eventually did apologize for putting Liang Xun on the spot and even offered to edit his one spoken line out. But he waved the matter off. An honest mistake like that wasn’t a big deal. And he did get to spend most of the night spending time with Lee in the end.

Speaking of Lee, he had stopped teasing him as much later on in the night. And he’d become a little quieter too. Maybe he finally tired himself out. The carp didn’t seem to be in a bad mood, so Liang Xun didn’t think it was a problem. He could be a very charismatic and agreeable person when he was well-behaved.

When the group finished filming, Nian and Lava kept their end of their promise and guided everyone to a nice restaurant. Needless to say, eating good food with friends will always be a pleasant experience. Everyone looked back on the day’s events and laughed about the interesting things that happened. Misspoken lines, funny mistakes that were made during filming, Lava’s surprisingly outstanding performance, and of course poor Mr. Liang’s impromptu engagement proposal. Nian even revealed her future plans for the film.

“It’s an action movie, so of course I have to get my kung fu brother to play the final boss. And unlike that stuffy Dusk, he doesn’t mind helping me out with my movies. I just gotta find a way to get him to come to Rhodes Island. He’d probably like it there.”

They spent the rest of the night exchanging interesting ideas and stories. But as expected Lee’s group eventually had to part ways with Nian and Lava, but not before exchanging some fond farewells and final expressions of gratitude. 

Compared to the last time they all went out together, this time it was Lee and Liang Xun at the front, walking side by side and leading the rest of the group back to their homes. No doubt the trio, who had done most of the fight scenes and actual work, were the most tired out. They were content to lag behind a little.

It gave Lee the opportunity to ask something that had been on his mind. He asked Liang Xun about the earlier incident, and why the man didn’t just say something similar to what Nian had suggested.

Liang Xun responded with a short sigh.

“I already owe you so much, Lee. I would never portray you as the kind of person who owes me and hasn’t paid me back. So I decided to say the first thing that came to mind instead.”

The Lung seemed satisfied with his answer, replying that it was ridiculous to keep count of favors between friends. There was no need to keep track of who owed whom. Liang Xun reluctantly agreed and pointed out that he was surprised Lee hadn’t made fun of him more for what happened earlier. He’s long since grown accustomed to his friends dragging him into random trouble, and they’ve always found it amusing when lighthearted mischief fell into his lap like this.

“I’m in a good mood today, so you’re safe this time,” Lee explained.

It couldn’t be seen from where the Kuranta was standing, but the people behind could see it. The way Lee’s tail casually swayed back and forth as if to prove his words. 

Hung was happy for him. 

Aak and Waai Fu thought that their idiot boss was too obvious, matched only by an even stupider opponent.

[junniepop]

JJK men and a male reader

So I died and came back. Now my inbox is filled with a lot of Jujutsu Kaisen stuff with a male reader, so I looked around and noticed there aren't a lot of male writers or even gender neutral ones, meaning that's what I'll be doing for awhile. This first request is...

before I get started, if you'd like to request something, then please see my masterlist

JJK boys with a male s/o

Warnings: aged up and language oh and some nsfw stuff cuz that's what they wanted.

Characters: I. Yuuji, F. Megumi, G. Satoru, N. Kento, R. Sukuna, T. Aoi

I. Yuuji

Isn't hung up by you being male, I feel as Yuuji got older, the more open minded he became. His sexuality was something that evolved as he aged and had a big change in his mid teenage years when he was exploring himself. Into his late teens he began seeing people of all types of representation, he simply did not care how they presented themselves.

That leads us to you, our gorgeous male that has Yuuji simping. All seriousness, this man loves entirely, some might even find it to be smothering. He is the type to text you paragraphs of good morning and goodnight texts, always leaving something for you to eat in the fridge, brings something home because it reminded him of you, and always always makes time to call you before a mission.

Yuuji always has random thoughts about you. Like, "Should I make his favorite tonight?" "I wonder what he's doing." "Oh....that would look so cute on him, should I get it?" "AH this charm has our initials on it! that means it was meant to be!"

If you're a sorcerer, Yuuji d e m a n d s to be your partner on missions and he will have a fit if someone says no. Is constantly stressing himself out over your well being, even if he knows you can handle yourself. always asking about your technique and is amazed every time he sees it. Very protective, stands in front of you a lot and when he see's you struggling he doesn't hesitate to get the curse's attention regardless of his own situation.

Also just because I feel like he would: Yuuji gave you a promise ring when he realized you were the one he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.

He has this need to prove to you that he is a fit partner, Like showing you he can cook, has his own place, very responsible with his money and what not.

The type of guy to send you a million snaps a day. He will literally show you everything he did that day and wants the same in return.

Every date with him somehow includes a physical activity. Going out to dinner? chances are Yuuji will see an arcade and more specifically the DDR in the background.

NSFW

In terms of sexual stuff, Yuuji seems like a top, but has definitely thought about bottoming and upon trying it- was not into it. Does not matter if you're much bigger than him or not, he will top you. However, Yuuji is rather submissive when it comes to his partner, he will say yes to whatever it is you want. You want him to be soft and gentle, he'll do it. You want him to absolutely wreck your ability to walk, he'll do it.

The first time Yuuji tried stuff with a guy, he for sure looked up if it would hurt and read that anal could be very painful, was TERRIFIED that he would hurt the guy. Definitely was asking with every movement if he was okay. With you he's more confident, but still askes if you're okay throughout the event.

Man is simple, likes very intimate positions where he can see your face. Heavily into pleasing you, he tries any kinks you're into even if he's not that into it. Loves being praised, it just does something to his brain, in that same line- any sounds you make go straight to his dick. Really enjoys marking, is proud to cover you in them too.

The type of guy to enjoy eating you out, like fully sit on his face. Plus it helps his dick slide in smoother.

Yuuji will lose his mind if you say you want to milk him. Yuuji usually never thinks about his own pleasure, so when you want to pleasure him until he's empty, mans is not readyyyy. Just stutters out an okay and proceeds to go stupid when you start.

Conclusion

Yuuji loves you entirely. Trusts you 100% and would do anything to keep your life stable and happy. Yuuji just wants to grow old with you tbh, so in love with the idea.

If you were to break up with him, he would be devastated, unable to continue on for a long time. I mean he placed his everything into you, why would you do this to him?

all in all, it is a very stable relationship as long as you don't take him for granted because he is prone to letting people use him.

F. Megumi

Definitely did not care you were male. Megumi cares about a person's mentality, their goals and dreams, the way a person carries themselves. When Megumi met you, he found you quite attractive, your drive is what lured him in and from there his feelings developed.

Megumi is subtle in showing his affection. Little touches here, sticky notes meant just for you, always carrying 'extra' snacks. It actually might take you awhile to notice his affections for you, simply because it is so subtle. Megumi seems like the person to wait until you confess. However. Megumi would confess if he gets pushed to or knows he won't get rejected.

Once he confesses, his love is soft and soothing with a hint of awkwardness. Megumi in the beginning would be showing affection through words and small acts of service, always telling you how much he appreciates you and doing things for you. Some of these things would be things like picking up snacks for you, doing your laundry, leaving you some of his clothes. He likes to do these things without you knowing because I think it lessens the embarrassment he feels doing it.

Even if you are in a long term relationship with him, he always gets flustered by you. Megumi is naturally reserved, so telling him I love you with sincerity will cause him to malfunction. Poor boy freezes and stutters around his words while avoiding eye contact.

Now, physical contact in this relationship is a tell tale sign of how much Megumi trusts you and loves you. Megumi is the type of person to reserve physical touch for someone he completely trusts, so with you, this will let you know his true feelings.

Touch would start with closeness at first, just grazing hands or bumping knees, but would develop into hours of intimate cuddling because he's touched starved. KISSING, oh my lord- his kisses tell you everything he feels. so intense, no matter how soft he kisses you.

if you're a sorcerer, Megumi is the type to go on missions with you, but doesn't complain if he can't go with you. However, worries a lot and contemplates going after you. Unlike Yuuji, who would go to literal war, Megumi trusts your strength a lot. The only time he is like yuuji is against a particularly strong curse. Loves fighting together though, it shows how much you trust him.

NSFW

Megumi gives me verse energy. Like he was a top for a long time, asked you if he could bottom once and was surprisingly into it. So now when the mood arises, its whatever you guys are in the mood for. You guys often take turns.

His first time was with you- Megumi just seems like a late bloomer and you were the only person he did stuff with. He's very gentle because he knows it can be painful, I think sexually his fear is not being good enough for you, so give him as much reassurance as you can.

Now this boy is rather kinky despite his personality. Loves when you beg, drives him mad to hear your pleas and whimpers. Likes the pain of you needing something to hold onto when he tops which results in scratches down his back and the pulling of his hair. Doesn't think condoms are necessary because you're the only person for him in his eyes- aka likes breeding. When he bottoms, he enjoys riding and wants to see your face as he does. Do not get it twisted though, he's very much into you messing him up and railing him.

SEND THIS BOY NUDES. DO IT. Mans will sprint home if he has to. Don't do it too often or he'll get used to it. Maybe like once every two-ish weeks. Or better yet do it while he's on a mission. Megumi always tries to answer you, so expecting something serious, he short circuits when its just a pic of you in some underwear he thought he ripped the last time you guys were intimate.

Conclusion

Shy boy into some kinky things with his partner. It might take him some time to develop a deep relationship with you because he's scared you'll leave, but as long as you provide him the security he needs, he'll stay by your side indefinitely.

If you were to break up with him, you're just like his dad in his eyes and the betrayal would result in him locking many people out. Unlike Yuuji, who's emotions pour out of him, many wouldn't know Megumi is barely scrapping by.

G. Satoru

Gojo doesn't give a rats ass how you present yourself, he lives by the motto "a hole's a hole." What truly would make Gojo invest in more than casual hooking up is your personality. Gojo needs someone who doesn't need him and doesn't care about who he is in the sorcerer world. Someone like that would capture his eye rather quick and this man is like "Eh? I'm GOJO SATORU, you know top dog?" and you would just blink and go back to whatever it was you were doing.

Shows off so much trying to impress you. "ne ne (Y/n) did you see me squash that special grade into dust?" *sigh* "Yes Gojo, I also saw you split one into a thousand pieces and turn another into a ball." so unamused by his abilities.

The one time he saw amazement cross your features is when he was playing the piano (I feel Gojo's other talents were never looked at and everyone saw him as this god like being, all he wants is someone to look at other things he can do.) and his heart skipped a beat. Because his first goal was just get into your pants, he was quite surprised you were more interested in his normal talents. This is where he begins showing you his real side, still a teasing man child, but he begins asking you about your interests and seeing what you have in common.

The more he learns, the harder it is for him to find a way not to commit to you. You see Gojo subconsciously looks for a reason to leave, he hates being tied down and is super flighty. Then there's you, ticking all his boxes without even knowing it. There's only been one person to do that.

So he takes a leap and goes for it. He's still scared that he'll get burned like last time, but he's willing to try.

One of the requirements to being with Gojo is you need to be strong in your own right. Gojo is an extremely powerful man with many enemies, so his partner must be able to handle themselves. Being a sorcerer, Gojo would B E G you to go with him on literally every single mission and would throw the biggest tantrum until you say yes. Sometimes when he's being particularly childish, he'll stop fighting the curses to watch you do it. "You can do it (Y/n)-chan, if you win I'll give you kisses." Takes everything in your power not to launch your technique right at him as he sits there with his shit-eating grin.

This man in the beginning of your relationship is immediately extremely handsy. Just all up on you all the time, but little do you know is, this is really a protective measure for when you're out of the house. At home, he's still handsy, but you can just feel how different it is. He'll come and fall asleep on you, stand behind you when you're doing your skincare routine, always following you around the house.

Overtime, you'll become his place to rest when he needs to recharge. You're the only time Gojo gets a break from being at the top. It makes you wonder if he ever truly gets to be normal.

Overall, Gojo's love is deceptively delicate because his personality is quite childish, he uses it as a mask to hide how he's really feeling. So you might think everything is going swimmingly until he ups and leaves you. Once he starts showing you that real side of him, that's when you have him wrapped around your finger.

NSFW

This man is incredibly horny. His stamina is very high and he's very kinky. Gojo is a dominant verse whore. It doesn't matter if he's taking or giving, he's always in control. Honey you were not first and you might not be the last, this man is very confident in pleasuring you.

Gojo like I said, is incredibly kinky. He enjoys degrading you, overstimulating you until you beg him to stop, he wants to break you and make you only crave him. Seriously, you might want to think about a safe word because this man won't stop until you're not even speaking coherent sentences. In saying that there are somethings that you can try (key word 'try') to do to make him lose his mind. One of those things is a blowjob, his dick is incredibly sensitive in certain areas, so he'll become a mind-numbed mess if you're good enough. Another is softly begging in his ear and saying how he's the only one who makes you feel this way aka call him your god in bed and he'll bust right then and there.

Phone sex. Legit will call you if you guys haven't been together for a few days and all you hear are his whines and groans. "Guess what I'm doing cutie~"

THIS MAN- you're never safe to answer your phone because one time you opened the snap and it was him lazily jacking his dick. You have a small heart attack every time the notif is a snap from Gojo, just praying you can open it in public and 9/10 you can't.

The type of guy to get handsy in public places. Just in your ear like "Baby pleeeeasssseeeee can we fuck in public, I promise you'll still be able to walk when I'm done."

Conclusion

Gojo is a rollercoaster of a relationship that needs it's rider to be okay with a lot of distance for awhile and sudden disappearances. Without the right criteria, the relationship is doomed to fail.

If you were to break up with him, he would immediately sleep with as many people as he can to numb himself from the pain of having a hole ripped right through him. He'd go back to that childish personality, but you can feel the edge in his words despite his tone.

N. Kento

Nanami gives me 'gave up on the sex of my partner ages ago' energy. Like he has tried relationships with a lot of people and realized all people suck. So you being a man means nothing to him, you just have to prove to him you're not shitty like everyone else.

The type of guy that takes you out on proper dates in the beginning. It's usually dinner because of his job, but sometimes he'll ask you to lunch. Nanami will bring you small gifts like flowers or Knick knacks he thought you'd like.

Nanami likes someone a little younger than himself, probably around 23-24, they still have that idealistic thought process but with realistic foundations. He likes someone who can be serious, but still enjoys things like joyrides or going out bowling.

Nanami is a very uptight guy, so you're going to have to work to get him to relax. When you do, this is when he starts to see you as long time partner rather than someone who is just for fun. Literally goes from stick up his ass, to a big softie that just wants to curl up in bed with you. He'll start smiling more and doing intimate things like bathing together.

Nanami would probably rather have someone outside the sorcerer world so he doesn't have to think about work when he sees you. He wouldn't complain if you were though, gives him a lot less to worry about since he knows you can handle yourself. Doesn't even stress when you go on missions by yourself, he respects your strength.

NSFW

Now Nanami is moderately kinky. He's definitely a top and will not change. He's into ddlb (dom daddy and little boy for my innocents out there.) Very much into control and making you take it, he's not one for brats and will tame that shit right out of you. Doesn't need a safe word, he's very good at gauging your reactions. Really really into deep throating and you better learn how to breathe or you'll be struggling. Likes breeding, so he would be glad you can't have children.

Conclusion

Nanami’s love is traditional and straight forward. He likes routine to a certain degree and that degree ends at stable relationship, everything else is not that fun without a level of risk to him, but he likes that when he comes home, you'll be right there.

if you were to break up with him, Nanami would sigh and say he told himself so. He's hurt, but it'll solidify that people are still and always will be shitty.

R. Sukuna

Sukuna does not do love. period. The only way I could see him giving notice to someone is if they are powerful, someone who can bring him amusement. Sukuna only does thing for his own entertainment end of discussion.

I’m going to be using post-Yuuji Sukuna, so he’s restricted by Yuuji himself and can’t outright cause chaos at all times. This way Sukuna has to spend more time with people than he’d like to, normally he would just kill something once he’s bored, but now he has to deal with them.

Noticed your technique through Yuuji and was amused, much like Megumi, he thought your curse technique had a lot of potential to be devastating. As Yuuji spent more time with you, Sukuna began noticed more things about you, like that you cooked better than Yuuji, were extremely versatile in battle with your technique and so on.

The type to notice your attraction to him and act on it. He can’t really do much since he’s in Yuuji’s body, so he’s going to work with what he’s got. Didn’t care if you’re male or female, he just likes a strong partner so he can go harder during sex.

Your relationship would start with being his toy, something to bring him pleasure that is all. With Sukuna, you must both respect him and not fear him. He’s very big on respect and trust, but hates when someone he views as ‘important’ fears him because they’ll betray him the second they can. Everyone else can fear him, he doesn’t care.

Sukuna is also highly unpredictable and unstable, be prepared for death at a moments notice tbh. He’ll kill you if he feels like it. In a deeper relationship, Sukuna is a hard pressed tsundere, saying things quite harshly. Saying things like, “Here brat, I don’t need you breaking just yet.” “Dumbass, that curse was stronger than you.” “I took care of them because you’re weak.”

Trust between Sukuna and you is a game of high stakes chess, one wrong move and you’re nothing but trash to him. However, succeed in earning his trust and you’ll be rewarded with a loyal man. Though Sukuna hates showing vulnerability, so he’ll treat you the same in public places that he would treat anyone else. Alone, he’s alright with whatever as long as it doesn’t annoy him.

Surprisingly protective. He’ll kill curses he deems are a problem to you or rip a person limb from limb if he found a hair missing from your head. Doesn’t understand why you don’t let him handle it, he’s way stronger than you.

Is almost never soft with you unless he’s extremely tired or just waking up. Holding you as close as he can and telling you not to go. Don’t bring it up either, he’ll end you if you tell anyone.

Will never tell you, but likes touching you, you’re very soft compared to him. He’s the type of guy to have callous from years of fight and doesn’t really care about his skin to much because he’s a God in his eyes.

Would rather surrender himself to a church than admit he gets slightly giddy when you remember small details about him. Like this man has a lot of history, so when you know a tiny random detail about him, his non-existent heart shutters a little.

Nsfw

This man is extremely kinky during sex. I pray for your well being because honestly I don’t know if you’re going to live through sex with him. A dom top period, that last person to even insinuate they could top him was added to his innate domain permanently.

He’s into completely dominating you and make sure you know he owns you. B I G into impact play, slapping you a lot until you’re a beautiful red. Degrading and humiliating you, honestly would let people watch so they know that you’re his property.

Actually really likes his partner to be a brat, man loves breaking you and turning you into a submissive bunny just for him. Honestly he just likes pushing people beyond their limits, like really into emotional play, he wants to see your expressions when he does something. Ooo objectification, will use you like a foot stool and sit on you. Man in general will work you hard.

In saying all that, immaculate aftercare because he knows your mind is too far gone to remember him being this caring and soft for you. Literally bathes you and gets you into bed curled up on him. Also makes sure your body didn’t sustain a lot of damage during sex.

Do. Not. Taunt. Sukuna. It will not end well. “Huuuh? You think you can handle more little boy?” Eyes narrowed and smile too tight. You’ve awoken the beast and he’s not going to leave anything unbroken.

Conclusion

Sukuna’s love is... well a bike ride through hell? To be honest you’ll never know if he loves you. Everything about him is highly unpredictable and dangerous, you could end up as worm food in seconds.

Breaking up with Sukuna... you’re joking right? You don’t have the balls to tell a man who could split you into a million pieces with a flick of the wrist, you’re breaking up with him , right?

Seriously he’ll kill you, no hesitation. It’s either realize you’re stuck with him or die. I think most people would assume he never cared at first, but he did care and now you want to leave him? Absolutely not. He set everything down for you and he’ll be damned if he lets you live without him.

T. Aoi

(First and foremost- why is it so hard to find Toudou headers.)

Okay, I’m sorry but Toudou to me is a straight guy, so I can’t really see him with a male. But, if it were to happen, I think it would go like this:

Being childhood friends with Toudou, you were used to his eccentric personality and sometimes extreme antics.

This man is EXTREMELY comfortable with you. You guys grew up together, so some of the things you guys do together would definitely be seen as way too much for friends. I’m talking sharing the same bed, bathing together, using each other’s things without permission. To you guys, you’ve been doing this since you were little, so neither of you think twice.

I think there would be a trigger that would make Toudou realize he’s more into you than being friends. Like maybe someone flirting with you, he’d at first think he’s being replaced as a friend, but it’s much deeper than that. Definitely debates in his head about what he’s feeling toward you. After going back and forth with his type of girl in his head, he’ll come to terms with it.

This is when he’ll start noticing things he’s never payed that much attention to before. Things like how small you’re compared to him, the way clothes fitted to your body, how pretty you actually were and most important difference- how he’s never noticed you have the fattest ass he’s ever seen.

Seriously this man’s sexuality went from women to women + you.

Toudou isn’t the type to wait either, as soon as he knows how he feels, he confesses. He’s the type of guy to say “take it or leave it, that is how I feel.”

You kinda just stand there. Like, huh? Toudou are you feeling okay? Have- have you been cursed? There’s no way, Toudou middle name pussy pounder Aoi just said he was into you romantically... right?

After the shock, you reciprocated his feelings and began dating.

Now, this man- S U P E R affectionate and devoted. Always wanting to hold hands or link arms. He loves cuddling and playing with your hair while you sleep on him. Puddy in your hands if you give him a massage.

Toudou is immensely dedicated. He knows your favorite foods down to the amount of salt you use on your fries, knows what sizes you prefer for hoodies, shirts, button ups and so on, and this man knows your favorite movies by heart.

He’s the type to buy you something simply because you said it was starting to give you problems.

Lovvvvessss dates. I mean he’s a hopeless romantic, he wants to take you on really cheesy dates that you’d see honeymoon couples go on.

The type to want to match clothing or jewelry.

If you’re a sorcerer, he’s wanting to train everyday, he likes seeing you in action. Double points if you can match him in strength too. He respects your strength enough to not worry about you, he’s confident in his S/o’s abilities.

NSFW

Top. Enough said. Ok but seriously, he wants to clap you cheeks so bad.

Toudou has the biggest size kink too, I’m talking like he’s the type to point right at your navel and say “I’m right here baby~ can you feel me filling you?”

His definitely into railing. His favorite position is the mating press, allows him to hit deeply and as hard as he wants.

Lovesss when you whine and beg. He wants to see how much you can take before your begging him to let you cum.

The type of guy to leave your ass a nice reddish purple color. Just two big ass hand prints on you ass and hips.

✨i m m a c u l a t e✨ aftercare. It’s almost like he’s worshipping you when he’s cleaning you up and making sure you’re taken care of.

Conclusion

Being with Toudou is like being with an Aries, he’s high energy and can get easily bored. He enjoys someone who excites him both mentally and physically. Loves a challenge. Toudou’s love is like a concentrated ball of sunlight, it’s hot and bright. He’s overly devoted to you and tells you how much you mean to him all the time.

If you break up with him, he’s the type to hold his head high until he’s alone and then he breaks down, crying into his hands. Thinking, “Was I too much?” “Maybe I wasn’t enough?” He’s confident, but he’s still a person with insecurities.

[angelofbloodlust]

A/N: Alright listen y’all, I’m not typically a fan of writing about things that are related to sickness. BUT. Someone requested something similar to this and I’m also sick at the moment, so I thought it was very on theme 😭

Enjoy me lowkey (lovingly) bullying sick Billy <33

————————————

Billy Loomis x Reader Who Takes Care of Him While He’s Sick

Now, Billy isn’t a man that gets sick often, claims he’s “too strong for that kind of stuff”

But when he does get sick, it hits him HARD.

And you know his ass is gonna make it extra dramatic cuz he craves all the attention he can get from you

You can hear this bitch coughing and wheezing all the way down the hall (intentionally loud if I may add)

And of course, you rush over to ask what he needs, being the good partner you are while he shoots you an extra tired smile and asks for tea, extra honey

“Thank you, *cough*, Y/N! You’re the *cough* best.”

Will definitely try to kiss you constantly, then pouts like a child when you reject him with the claim that you don’t want to get sick as well

He’ll ask you to run and collect him some movies to watch through, and that’s generally the most quiet he’ll be while being buried under 50 blankets on the couch beside you

You’d think his sensitive stomach would make all the gore a little less appealing to watch, but not for him!

If you do decide to just give in to the thought that you’re bound to get sick and just give into his affection, he’ll be over the moon

There’s never a time where he’s more affectionate than when he hasn’t touched you in a while, and it almost surprises you. He acts like a touch starved puppy, staying glued to your side and begging for you to play with his hair to help him relax

And even if he’s a little icky at the moment, you still find it absolutely adorable to see him so lovey <3

Do. Not. Let. Stu. Come. Over.

Not only will he immediately get sick after, he will make it his personal goal to not give poor sick Billy a millisecond to relax

With all his energy and loudness, Billy might end up smacking the boy to mars if he doesn’t keep quiet for two seconds

Though, he’ll also absolutely load you guys up on snacks for Billy, and bring you to the store to get more of Billy’s favorite things to cheer him up

I feel like most of Stu’s visits end up with having to buy an apology of sorts for Billy

Billy is.. thankful for the effort, though I’m sure he would’ve appreciated it much more if Stu hadn’t given him a migraine prior

Cuddling you will magically cure him though, ofc

Once all in all is done and he’s finally recovered, he’s endlessly thankful for how well you treated him during that time. He’ll absolutely smother you in love and kisses

And of course, the next day when you claim you have a sore throat, he’ll waste no time to take his turn and take care of you!

Stu is on his own, though

[the-smooth-operator]

ARCANE CHARACTERS' LOVE LANGUAGES

Warnings: gn!reader, imperfect English.

Genre: sfw, mostly fluff, hcs.

Characters: Viktor, Jinx, Silco.

VIKTOR

What he needs:

Words of affirmation. Might be quite obvious, but he craves for it. Tell him his new suit fits him pretty much, compliment his hard work, call him 'handsome' and say to him that you're rather lucky to have him as your boyfriend. He blushes uncontrollably each time you brag about him to someone around.

Physical affection. Oh boy, is he touch-starved to hell. Viktor isn't used to be in relationship (you're likely his first partner) and melts under your hands/lips. Cuddles, hugs, hand-holding, little pecks here and there — Viktor loves it all. He'd spend whole day just being spooned into your arms and kissing you if only he had this day free from work.

Acts of service. You see, he has difficulties because of his health problems and disability, so there's no surprise that sometimes he needs your help. Don't do it from pity though 'cause Viktor doesn't want you to see him as some kind of pathetic brat. Sometimes he may be grumpy when you take care of him (bringing him food when he experiments in the lab, f.e.), but don't take it personaly. He's just tired. And he trully appreciates your help.

How he shows his feelings:

Physical affection. It was said before, he's touch-starved to hell. And even though he's not bad with his words, it can be complicated for him to express his feelings verbally. He's just not used to. And most of the time really tired (damn workaholic). So he smothers your face with gentle kisses instead of saying 'I love you', interwines his fingers with yours and means 'I do care about you', etc.

Quality of time. Viktor is workaholic. You know. He knows. Everybody knows. Time he spends with you is of great importance. If he devotes time to you outside the lab, he's head over heels with you for sure.

JINX

What she needs:

Words of affirmation. Poor girl has terrible abandonment issues. You should shower her with reassurances that you'll never leave her and there's nobody who can replace her. Please, praise her she deserves it as nobody else. It's not that hard, is it?

Quality of time. Jinx is very active and loves attention both giving and receiving. She even doesn't care what kind of stuff you do, you're together and that's the thing. Paint her nails, tell the most stupid story you have, be here with her when she has a breakdown, kick Sevika's ass (for fast runers only), go on crime together.

How she shows her feelings:

Words of affirmation. Compliments you in all ways she knows. Your skills, humour, appearance — it doesn't matter, everything about you is perfect! And Jinx acknowledges you about it 24/7 and sometimes even more often. She's also into giving nicknames pretty much.

Physical affection. She's rather clingy and just can't help touching you by chance and on purpose. Holds your hands, hugs you tight, kisses you smooth — she's all about it.

Gifts. Being daughter of the Eye of Zaun, she can afford herself almost everything including plenty amount of things she can presents you. Just mention something you want and wait 'till it appears in Jinx's hands.

SILCO

What he needs:

Words of affirmation. Another one with strong abandonment issues. He doesn't show it as clear as Jinx does, but sometimes even Silco has his own insecurities. Help him to put aside all these doubts that swarm in this smarty head of his and he'll be grateful for no end. Tell him you love him with all his dark deals and will stand side by side with him no matter what (and when you say so, you better mean that).

Acts of service. Whether you help him with paperwork or his Shimmer-injections Silco is trully thankful. That, however, could be quite oblivious, but the fact he trusts you enough to let you take care of his bad eye is all you need.

How he shows his feelings:

Quality of time. Silco has no time for senseless stuff, he's a busy man. And he wouldn't waste this treasure for someone he doesn't care deeply. He likes just being near you during his work or after it. Silco finds it domestic when the two of you (and maybe Jinx too) sit in front of the fireplace in a comfortable silence.

Acts of service. Silco is a gentleman. He opens doors for you, helps you with clothes, etc (no matter what your gender is). He's an old-fashioned lover who loves being in control.

Gifts. Being the Eye of Zaun, he can afford himself everything and as his partner you almost share this opportunity with him. Silco's pretty much into spoil you rotten. Jewerly, costly clothes and gadgets, dinners in the most expensive restaurants — anything you've ever desired.

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

can we get the next part of the recapture arc for Rudy and Clyde :)

( I wanna see if mason gets Clyde back teehee)

I'm very happy with how this ended up going, but I'm jiving with a lot of AU's with this story, so I might have another one I dunno. But I really, really like this one.

TW: Kidnapped whumpee, recaptured whumpee, discussion with whumper, police mention/arrest.

[Picking up from here]

The following days were everything that Mason had been wanting for years. Rudy was a bit quiet at first, but compliant. Sweet. Needy.

Everything that Mason wanted him to be.

Oh, there were a few moments here are there where he got confused. Struggled and cried and tried for the door once, but those were to be expected with how the poor pet had been treated. Those tantrums were quickly shut down and corrected, Mason knowing exactly how to make his pet feel calmer and safe.

Now, Rudy was sitting by his feet with the boy’s head up against the couch. He was in a muzzle right now, after getting over-excited the last few days, but he was calm. Happy.

Mason knew how to take care of his pet.

Watching whatever show he had found on television, Mason would reach down and run his hand through his pet’s hair, appreciating how the boy had at least been able to keep it soft and smooth. So many things had fallen by the wayside, but he had remembered enough of his rules to at least do the basics.

His phone buzzed as the show went to commercial and Mason reached for it lazily.

Unknown number: We have some things to discuss.

Mason stared at it for a moment, confused. Wrong number? Or perhaps a confused client? Yes, that seemed more likely, a client that wanted to get in contact with him, but was unable to reach him while Mason had taken some vacation time. Annoyed, he unlocked the phone and replied.

M D: Hello, I am currently out of the office but if you contact (555)555-5555 we’ll be able to fit you into the upcoming schedule.

He tossed the phone aside and reached down to massage the sides of Rudy’s jaw. The laws, the change in culture had been so stupid. Asinine. Pathetic. People needed their pets, needed them for affection and comfort and stress-relief. And Pets needed people, to take care of them and keep them safe. It was inhumane to take away that support system.

Rudy hummed happily into his hand, eyes closed, and it soothed something deep in Mason’s chest.

The phone buzzed again and Mason sighed.

Unknown number: You’ve taken something that doesn’t belong to you.

Mason’s brow furrowed. A prank? Who would think to prank him like that, though? He put the phone aside again, starving the prankster of the attention they so clearly wanted.

Unknown number: Don’t ignore me.

Well.

M D: Who are you?

Unknown number: An interested party. Meet me at this address in an hour.

The address that was sent was nearly fifty minutes away, meaning Mason would have to leave now if he were to make it in the time demanded. He huffed indignantly and shook his head. No, he wouldn’t be threatened by some stranger, or punked by one of his friends.

Unknown number: This is your one chance to correct what you’ve done, or I will get the authorities involved.

And you wouldn’t want that, Mason Driver, would you?

What would your associates at Baxter Pharmaceuticals think if they saw one of their sales agents’ face in the paper under arrest?

Would you be able to land another job with your past and criminal charges?

Don’t test me Driver.

Fifty minutes left.

Mason snarled at his phone. “Up.”

Rudy startled from his half doze, unfocused green eyes staring blankly up at Mason. The man stood and snapped his fingers. “Up, come on.”

The boy scrambled awkwardly to his feet, following after his Master as they walked back to Mason’s office, to the small bed next to the anchor in the wall.

Mason secured him once again and left, ignoring the confused boy’s whimpers as he left.

~~

The address was a cocktail bar. Mason cocked his head and double-checked to make sure it was right. The bar was upscale, a dark, expensive ambiance drifting from the lacquered doors. Inside, it was nearly empty - only one patron slumped over their drink and a bartender wiping down glasses. Mason sat at one of the booths and admired the black marble floors and elegant light fixtures.

No one spoke to him.

He checked his watch, about an hour and ten minutes since he had gotten the texts, but there was no one here. He rubbed his temples and chastised himself. A prank - annoying. Right as he was about to stand to leave, a figure slid into the booth across from him.

Even after a full moment of staring, Mason didn’t quite believe his eyes.

It was Clyde, Mason knew what his pets looked like better than anyone else in the world, but, but at the same time it wasn’t. He couldn’t even be called a boy at this point, the other man staring at him so brazenly was a man, stone faced and fiery. His dark hair was expertly loc’d, a few hanging over his forehead and shrouding his eyes. His ears were pierced now with mat black studs and rings, matching the layers of black chains around his neck. Mason’s eyes glanced across the other man’s strong shoulders, the suit that was clearly tailored for him.

Clyde leaned forward on his elbows, hands clasped casually. He was wearing rings.

“... Clyde?!” Mason asked, astonished.

“No,” the other man corrected immediately and directly, Mason’s eyes widening with a frisson of surprise. “No, my name is not for you. You won’t refer to me as anything - you won’t refer to me at all.”

Mason scoffed. “What the fuck, Clyde-”

“What did I just say?”

The chastisement left the older man momentarily silent, unbelieving. How dare he? How dare he treat Mason this way, act as if he was so much better? Mason could feel his blood pressure rise with every moment he had to sit across from his pet.

“Clyde. You-”

“Is there a problem here, Sir?”

Mason looked up, about to state that yes there was a problem in the way that this pet was treating him when he realized that he had not been the one addressed. The man was tall, muscular, and speaking to Clyde.

“I don’t know, Mason,” said Clyde pointedly, leaning back and bringing his elbows to rest on the booth. “Do we have a problem here?”

He set his jaw and stared directly at Clyde, not giving up an inch. Aggressive pets had tried this all the time, power plays to see which would falter first. Mason never gave in, and wouldn’t start now.

He didn’t dignify the question with an answer. Clyde met his glare with one of his own.

“It looks like we don’t now, Sacha. Thank you.”

The man nodded and melted into the shadows. Not gone, only hidden from sight.

Mason’s face contorted into something of a smirk. “Cute. Very cute little powerplay, but we both know what you are.”

“You’re right - we do both know what I am. We know who’s in charge here.”

Mason clenched his jaw until it hurt, then forced it to relax as he made fists that pressed crescents into his palms. A moment of amusement flashed across Clyde’s face and Mason snapped.

“This is fucking wrong and you know it. This world we’re living in right now is fucked and wrong and it will only end in disaster. They’re messing with the natural order of life for sake of what - pet’s feelings? They’re Pets! They feel what we tell them to feel.”

The bodyguard didn’t come back up and Clyde didn’t seem interested in stopping him, so Mason continued.

“You know it to be true, everyone does! This is a cute charade you’ve arranged here, I’ll give you that, but it’s just that. A charade. An act. You can’t handle this all by yourself. I promise you if you came back with me you’d be back to your pathetic helpless self in a day, maybe less. You’re made for being controlled, and obedient, and owned.”

“Oh really?” came Clyde’s uninterested response.

“Yes!” Mason shouted. “Yes, and I can prove it. Do you know how long it took Rudy to call me ‘Master’ again? Not even an hour. All it took was him walking in the front door of my house before he was crying because he was grateful. Pet’s aren’t built for lives like this.”

The mention of the other boy’s name was the first time Mason saw any reaction from Clyde. The other man tensed, face growing even more cold and impassive.

“Rudy.”

“Yes, I saved him. I did it because it’s where he belongs! He-”

“Saved him?” Clyde spat, leaning forward again. “Saved him from what, his own life? Freedom? Independence?”

Mason rolled his eyes. “Pet’s can’t possibly understand what that truly means. He’s happier now, and we both know you’d-”

“No. No, Mason, that’s where you’re wrong.” Clyde shook his head. “You’re really quite stupid, aren’t you? Stupid because you refuse to consider any other thought but one of your own. Your mind is an echo chamber of your own insane thoughts, and that lack of desire to learn is what makes you stupid. Intelligence is learning, intelligence is exploring new angles, and you refuse to do that. That’s what makes you stupid.”

“Pets are the ones that don’t have the capacity to learn new things!”

“Ce faux cul, Sans-couilles connrad. Tu as passé ces années à nous apprendre que nous étions moins quand nous étions meilleurs que toi. Sous-merde. foutre le camp,” came Clyde’s voice, low and gravely. His eyes burned with an anger Mason was not used to seeing from his previously timid and shy pet.

Mason’s tirade came to an abrupt stop as he panted and stared. “You, you don’t know what that means, you’re just, just repeating words. Parrots can do that.”

“Tell yourself that, if it helps you sleep,” Clyde said, eyes glancing up for a moment. “But I didn’t bring you here to argue. I brought you here to humiliate. To rub your nose in how low your life has become while I’m living the life you always chased. Search up ‘Marcus Adams’ on the prison computers and writhe in jealousy. I’ll keep in contact to remind you, regardless.”

The man balked for a moment before a word caught up to him. “Prison?”

“You’ve admitted to kidnapping a former pet with the express purpose of captivity and dehumanization - that’s a crime,” came a new voice. The other man in bar, the one that had seemed slumped over his drink was now up at their table, handcuffs in hand.

“Wait, no-”

“There’s nothing left for you to try and worm out of, Mason.” Clyde stood as the officer pulled Mason up and pinned him down against the table. As the officer clasped the handcuffs around his wrists, Mason saw Clyde leaving.

“Hey! You can’t just walk away from me, you-”

Clyde didn’t turn.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mason. I can do whatever I want. And so will Rudy. In fact, I’ll personally make sure that he will do everything that he wants to do. And he’ll live his life fuller and happier and be more fulfilled than you ever could have.”

Then the man was gone.

~~

@whumpingredroses @suspicious-whumping-egg @albino-whumpee @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpeesblog

[shadyteacup]

OMG pm Dazai dating y/n and leaves without saying anything,,,, reunion when chuuya is interrogating him in their “dungeon” area, y/n sees him and flat out ignores him until her and chuuya leave, when she full on KISSES chuuya AND WALKS AWAY mmmm angst c:

Tasty angst.. Here I come! This was an amazing idea! I loved writing it♡

Speechless

Dazai Osamu x fem! Reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Tw: slight nsfw(kissing), angst, strong language.

"Hey Chuuya, I got here as soon as you called. So, what's the matter?"

You say, walking up to the redhead, a smile on your face.

Noticing the grim look on your friend's face, your smile drops, a concerned look replacing it.

"Chuuya? What's wrong? And why hasn't Osamu arrived?"

Chuuya grit his teeth at your words, and tightened his fists.

"That bastard left."

"What?"

"He left the mafia, Y/N. He abandoned us."

You couldn't believe your ears. No way. You loved him. He loved you too, didn't he? Didn't he?! How.. Why.. When?

"Is this some sick joke, Chuuya? Because I don't appreciate it. It's a very stupid prank. You know how cranky I get when you wake me up in the middle of my sleep. I don't appreciate-"

Chuuya grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. He thought that this was the only way to help you understand. To tell you, that this wasn't some prank. It was true. Dazai had left the the mafia. But what's worse, is that he left the two of you, without as much as a mention of his plan.

"He left, Y/N! He left us! It's not a joke! He.. He's gone.."

Chuuya's grip on you slowly loosened as he teared up. His voice cracked.

You teared up, too. Your mouth was agape, wanting to say so much, express so much, but not knowing how.

"But.. he didn't even say goodbye.."

Chuuya shook his head, gritting his teeth.

"He didn't bother to say goodbye."

....

"Chuuya, you down here?"

That voice.. It belonged to Dazai's lover. He could recognize that voice anywhere. The honey like tone, and the soothing pitch; it had to be Y/N.

Dazai's heart was beating at 1000 kilometers per hour, and he feared that if you came close enough, it would leap out of his chest and tango on the floor.

Every step you took, the sharp sound of your heel against the floor reverberated through the dark dungeons.

The last time he had seen you was the night before he left the mafia. He hadn't told you about his departure, and had simply vanished the next day. He didn't try contacting you, and neither did you try to find out about him. He assumed that you were fine with his decision. But he knew that this assumption was probably wrong. You hated being lied to. You were one of those people that took time to open up to someone, but once they did, they would trust them fully. And he had gone ahead and broken that trust. He had backstabbed you. You were probably livid. Maybe you're coming down here to give him a piece of your mind. Dazai shuddered at the thought of being on the receiving end of your anger. Anybody who witnessed your angry side never lived to tell the tale.

Finally, your outline could be seen above the stairs. You were standing there casually, your hands in the pockets of the Mafia style coat draped over your lithe form. Your coat looked expensive. It most probably was. You were an executive, afterall. You had been since you were 15. You were probably filthy rich by now. Your hair looked as silky as he remembered it to be. A few strands gracefully framed your elegant and chiseled face. You had definitely grown up over the years. The maturity in your eyes, the sharpened features of your face and the soft curves of your body proved it. Dazai couldn't help but stare at his true love, the woman he had fallen for a few years ago, and the one who he was head over heels for now. He simply froze in his place, eyes widenening and mouth slightly agape as he took in your form.

You began strutting down the stairs, observing the prisoner. For a split second, Dazai could spot surprise flash through your eyes.

"Y/N... I didn't want to get you down here.."

Chuuya spoke, a scared look on his face. He was terrified of what you would do if you saw Dazai down here. Part of him knew you hated him, and might lash out on him. That was fine. But what scared him was the other possibility. The other part of him thought that you might forgive him. Considering your kind nature, you might fall prey to Dazai's sweet, manipulative words and forgive him. He would be devastated if you did that. The brunette has caused a lot of pain to you, and Chuuya would absolutely hate it if you decided to be compassionate and forget all that pain. All those tears were shed over the bastard. He couldn't bear to see you ignore all that.

"Yeah, you went out of the way to avoid telling me. I got to know from Tachihara."

You rolled your eyes, smiling at the fiery haired man.

Chuuya fisted his hands, anger building up in his stomach.

"Don't lash out on him! I had to threaten the poor boy to get the info out of him."

You said, holding your hands up to placate him.

You came to stand right next to him.

"I wanted to know if dinner is still on."

Dazai watched the two of you in silence. He wanted to say so much to you, but he couldn't if stupid short rack stayed here.

Well, he didn't have an option. He had to talk to you. And now was the only time he'd get.

"Y/N! It's been so long, hasn't it?"

He grinned at you, waiting for you to grin back or scowl at him.

You looked at him without bothering to face him. You raised an eyebrow, and focused your attention back to Chuuya.

Dazai was heartbroken at that. You never used to ignore him. You used to always be so enthusiastic and encouraging. This is the first time you've ignored him.

"Y/N. I'm so sorry. I know I should have said something, but I was stupid back then. I didn't know how to say, and what to say... I... I love you.. please, will you hear me out?"

His voice cracked. He meant every word he had just uttered. He loved you. Back then, when he left the mafia, he was only 19. Leaving the mafia was the best decision he had ever made in his life. But the way he executed it was wrong. It was stupid. He had lost you.

Chuuya gulped. This is exactly what he had feared.

You finally faced Dazai, hands still in your pockets. Your face held a look of mild intrigue, almost as if you were enjoying this.

You tilted your head to side, eyeing his worn out state.

Without a word, you faced Chuuya.

"I'm starving. Meet me at our usual place."

Chuuya was shocked at your lack of response. He nodded nonetheless.

"Alright. Get started without me. I might take a while."

You placed a hand on his shoulder, and were about to turn to leave.

"Y/N! Please, just hear me out!"

Dazai had never begged anyone other than Odasaku in his life. He had only ever pleaded Oda to not go destroy Mimic. Nobody other than Odasaku had seen Osamu Dazai ever plead to anyone about anything. The demon prodigy of the Mafia always found a way to get what he wanted.

Chuuya was left gaping at the scene.

You grabbed Chuuya's neck, and placed your palm on his cheek. Drawing him in, you kissed him. Right in front of Dazai. You deepened the kiss as Chuuya pulled you in further, leaving no room between the two of you. Tongues danced together, setting an erratic beat, as the two of you got lost in the kiss. The air supply was getting low, and Chuuya needed to come back for air, but you pulled him before he could do so. The lack of oxygen made his eyes flutter close, and he felt light headed. You devoured his mouth, tasting him. Finally pulling back, you bit his bottom lip, and licked it.

Chuuya felt weak in the knees. This wasn't the first time you had kissed him. Hell, you both had done a lot more than just kiss. But it always left him flabbergasted and breathless.

You wasted no time as you turned and walked away, leaving the dungeons after saying a ,"Hope to see you soon!", to Chuuya.

As you disappeared above the stairs, Dazai felt his heart shatter. He felt a pang in his chest, and tears surfaced in his eyes. He exhausted all his energy and self control in keeping his tears in and maintaining a nonchalant posture.

Chuuya was elated. He couldn't express how happy he was even in a thousand words. The love you both shared was strong, and what happened just now had proven it to him. In a twisted way, he was glad that Dazai had left, as it led him to form a beautiful relationship with you.

While Chuuya glowed from giddiness, Dazai cracked on the inside, and felt hollow. He thought that this was what he deserved. Afterall, he was the one who had caused immense pain to you. It's only fair for you to return the favor.

His hair hid half of his face, but Chuuya could easily spot the tears streaming down his cheeks. Chuuya felt bad for him, for Dazai was once his friend. But Dazai had this coming. He had hurt you, and Chuuya is planning to hurt him in return for that.

Lemme know if this is what you were looking for!

[danses-with-dogmeat]

romanced hancock reacting to pregnant sole? (obviously not his baby, but a donor's haha)

Hancock x Pregnant! F!Sole Headcannons:

Oh look! I've been enabled yet again! No, but this is great though, I love thinking about happy companions starting a family with Sole ❤

Also, if y'all want any headcannons or anything for companions as parents please hmu, cuz my brain just naturally seems to consider that after doing these pregnancy prompts anyway 😅

Anyway, thanks for the ask, I hope you enjoy!

The ghoul always wondered whether or not his tear ducts would still work after his whole ordeal, and the news that the love of his life was ready and willing to start a family with him would certainly seek to find out. As soon as she gave the word that the donorship had worked, Hancock would be grinning wide and tearfully, with upturned brows and a trembling lip. Unable to speak at first, he would pull an equally tearful Sole into the tightest hug he could muster, their bodies flush, his arms enveloping his love as his roughened cheek pressed insistently against her smooth one. “You just made me the happiest ghoul in the whole damn world, you know that, sunshine?” He’d say just before touching his lips to her cheek in a long, drawn out, tender kiss. (The action may or may not escalate into a long trail of kisses spanning across Sole's entire face as mirthful giggles escape her lips.)

Who would've thought that this was in the cards for him? Certainly not Hancock. He thought he was lucky enough just to be in the presence of someone like Sole, but for her to return the feelings he had for her? To enthusiastically agree to being in a relationship with him? To want to start a family together? Hancock was sure he was dead, or riding the wildest high of his life, for how could this be reality for someone like him? A junkie, a bachelor, a coward, a ghoul, a flimsy torn page with "bad news" written all over it. Nah, he didn't deserve this, but damn was he overjoyed at the fact that Sole thought he did, and who was he to question her judgement?

Hancock had never thought this would be possible, the whole "baby" thing… even though he knew about donors and such, he always thought it would be too painful for Sole to consider having a family again. And with him? Of all the folks in the Commonwealth and beyond, she wanted the infamous ghoulified mayor of Goodneighbor to be a father? To her kid? He was fucking ecstatic. He didn’t quite understand why she wanted to raise a baby with him, why she thought he’d be any good at it, if she thought that. He knew he wouldn’t be the perfect fit for this kinda lifestyle; that he knew for certain, but the fact that she wanted him to try… that shit made his whole body tingle with warm gratitude from the inside out.

He would try to be calm, collected, and altogether nonchalant about the whole process in order to keep Sole relaxed. From finding the donor, to the fertilization, to the pregnancy, and all the way through to Sole going into labor, he would try to be as calm and cool as a November night. And on the outside, he'd do a damn good job, but inside? Nah, inside, this ghoul's worried sick. If anything went wrong with his sunshine, he wouldn't know what to do, he's not sure he could take a blow like that.

So, he’d try not to think too much about what could go wrong, since he knew that would only make it harder for him to be there for Sole in the way that she needed, but occasionally he’d just have those kinda days. A bad trip, a fitful night fraught with horrific dreams, a bout of horrifying overthinking as Sole uttered a pained sound from one little thing or another, or a stint of morning sickness that seemed to last just a bit too long for his liking. All of these would have the poor mayor on edge. Normally, when he was stressed, Hancock would try to chill out with some jet, or calmex, but he really was trying to give up the junkie life to the best of his irradiated abilities. It was a vicious cycle of anxiety every once in a while, but Sole was always there to help him through it. To remind him that this wasn’t her first experience with having a baby, to tell him that he was doing a wonderful job, despite his anxieties, and to remind him that they were the Sole Survivor and the Mayor of fucking Goodneighbor, and that they could face damn near anything when they were together.

Those were only the bad days though. On the good days, oh, hon... Hancock was simply blissful. Sole really is in for a treat, as she is absolutely 100% pampered and loved on, coddled and looked after for 9 months straight, and then some (minus the couple of bad days, where she has to be the one doing the coddling, but really, how could she mind?). As soon as the pair finds out that Sole really is going to have this baby, Hancock is already offering her anything she may need in order to stay safe and comfortable for the next 9 months.

Hancock’s chill personality really shines when it comes to any mood swings Sole may have, and a lifetime of chem and alcohol use has rendered the ghoul particularly skilled at cooking foods that are comforting and easy to make/eat that come in handy after bouts of morning sickness. Who knew that all of his hangover experience would come in handy like this?

While Hancock loves nothing more than going on adventures in the Commonwealth alongside his beloved, he wouldn’t say it in so many words, but would be more reluctant than usual to leave Goodneighbor or Sole’s house. When, before, he would have leapt up at the prospect of hunting down some goons and making the world a better place through some good ole fashioned violence, Hancock couldn’t think of anything worse than having Sole get injured, or potentially losing the one he loves more than anything in the world, and the possibility of a future family with her if some shit went wrong. So, while he absolutely knows she is capable and an complete beast in combat, and he recognizes that Sole can’t stay cooped up indoors for the whole 9 months, (and let’s face it, he certainly doesn’t want to either, but he’s not about to leave his love behind so he can get outta the house once in a while) he definitely steers the pair away from the areas he knows to be more sketchy than others.

Hancock just loves showing Sole off. He did this before the pregnancy as well, but man, now if anyone comes up to the pair when she starts showing, you know Hancock is already beaming as he tells the inquiring stranger just how far along she is, whether it’s a boy or a girl (if they know), or even what they think the baby’s gender is if they don’t want to know/can’t find out, how often the baby has been kicking, and he may even ask for opinions on baby names from certain kind folks who come up to chat with the parents-to-be. It’s also quite likely that he uses these passer-byes as an indirect way to further compliment Sole, saying things to them like, “Doesn’t she look gorgeous?,” “Just look at how she glows,” or “It’s just incredible how you/these ladies do this, isn’t it? Damn it if she's not the strongest person I know,” just to showcase his admiration for her. Does it sometimes result in strange looks from the strangers? Of course. Does Hancock care, or even seem to notice? Not remotely. He's too busy gawking at the love of his life and her blushing, embarrassed glory.

The mayor tends not to be rude about it unless the person ignores him, but if he notices someone smoking nearby, he will ask them to put out whatever it is, or to simply move if he and Sole were there first. In addition to that, he will make quite the lifestyle change for himself, voluntarily giving up chems to the best of his abilities so long as withdrawals don't prevent him from caring for Sole, and when he does partake, Hancock won’t do it around her, he’ll move outside or to another room. He would also offer to give up alcohol, since he knows that she won’t be able to drink with him anyway, and leave it up to her if she wants him to go cold turkey like her. Even if she doesn’t mind, he still won’t drink in excess around her during her pregnancy. It's kind of a respect thing for him, and there ain't no one he respects more than the future mother of his child.

(little bit of NSFW content here) When it comes to sex, Hancock is even more generous than usual in the bedroom (if you can believe it's possible). His every movement acts as a tribute to his appreciation for the woman he loves more than life itself. He’d be sure to be gentle, but in all honesty, Hancock wouldn’t change anything too much (no need to fix what ain't broken, ya know?). He has always paid particular attention to Sole beneath the sheets, since he’s quite experimental, and comfortable with most kinks and things himself, so he tends to let her choose positions, location, duration, and pacing, and would definitely keep it this way during the pregnancy. You think this man used to really get into body worship before, this is just a whole nuther level. As Sole puts on weight later into her pregnancy, he takes full advantage of her swelling plushness, running his hands over her body, taking the time to squeeze and palm every bit of her growing softness, constantly complimenting every bit of her as his starving eyes eat up every inch of her beauty. Especially if Sole is self-conscious about any of the changes in her body, Hancock will be sure to constantly remind her that she’s the most captivating and gorgeous person he’s ever met. No stretch mark appears on her body without being lovingly kissed, no soreness will develop without the offer of a nice, long massage (this perhaps is just another excuse to get his hands on her), no tenderness will go unnoticed and will be accounted for when his hands are roaming her body. In general, he’s as loving and doting as ever, but he's also on high alert for any signs of pain or discomfort coming from his other half.

He’d be SO excited every time the baby kicked. For some reason, the babe seems to wait until he’s around to do it, and he’s thrilled. Sole is a little weirded out by it, but she honestly takes it as a good sign. But oh man, Hancock's hands will be all up in that shit, not wanting to miss a thing as Sole smiles at him like this isn't the fourth time this has happened in one evening (does he use this as yet another excuse to touch Sole? Hmm, who knows [the answer is yes]). Sometimes he forgets to be sympathetic when Sole can't sleep due to the fluttering in her belly, but his roughened hands smoothing rhythmically over her stomach throughout the night might just help her catch a few Zzs after all.

He’s admittedly quite nervous as she approaches labor, becoming ever more protective as her belly swells to its largest point, ensuring she avoids any kinda gun fight, crazy high heights or unneeded stress, and he would be adamant about Sole sitting out any outings, missions, or other activities in the dangers of the Commonwealth. But man, would he make an environment she didn’t want to leave. Pillows, snacks, dim lighting, good conversation, music, soft touches, compliments galore, and a man who is at her constant beck and call, willing and happy to do anything and everything she might need or want? Yeah, here’s to say, Sole didn’t really want to leave anyway.

By the end of the pregnancy, Hancock has a strange mix of apprehension and denial going on. He’s used to Sole being pregnant now, he knows how to deal with everything, how to take care of her, what makes her uncomfortable and how to fix it. But a kid? An infant? He doesn’t know how babies work, doesn’t know how to tell what they want from him. He’s excited beyond belief at the thought of being a father, but he just doesn’t know how to do it. He tries to think back to his own dad, and the way that he was brought up as a kid, (though, he's not sure that's a great frame of reference given the way he turned out) and definitely goes off of Sole’s judgement, but he can’t shake the feeling that he was never meant for this. To settle down and have a family. He isn’t his dad, he’s Hancock. He’s not a “family man,” not a picturesque pre-war looking man with a normal job and a cookie-cutter backstory; he’s a self-made ghoul, a junkie, a deadbeat whose earned his position of power by bathing in the blood of tyrants who died by his own hand, and shooting his veins up with every kinda poison the wastes have to offer. How do you explain that to a kid? That he made himself the way he is, cuz he couldn’t stand the man he’d grown up to be? What the hell kinda example is that? He wouldn't doubt for a second that his baby would be the center of his world from the moment he sees it, but if anything, that only ups the anxiety that he'll do something to mess the kid up. Hancock would be nervous as shit, but if Sole had confidence in him, well… he trusts her judgement more than he does his own, so if she thinks he’s "daddy" material, he ain’t gonna argue with that. All he can do is hope she’s right, follow her lead, take it one day at a time, and hope that him trying his absolute hardest will be enough.

[yourmcu]

Hell’s Kitchen

Pairings: Marvel cast x reader (Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Tom Holland, Robert Downey Jr.)

Summary:

You and your co-stars get invited to dine at the famous Hell’s Kitchen restaurant as the VIP guests. All of you have a great time.

Word count: 1,257

A/n: so this is just a lame idea I came up with when I was binging the all-star season of HK. I hope this turned out ok I’m nervous sksks (I didn’t add everyone in the gif to this imagine btw, sorry!)

(italicized texts is those moments where the chefs talk to the camera, y’know what I mean right?)

Warnings: swearing

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

“Wow.”

“I’m starving.”

“I can’t believe this place is real!”

“I know!” You laughed with Tom as you hopped out of the car and waited for Scarlett to come out after you.

You became part of the Marvel cast since Age of Ultron, needless to say they thought you were an impressive actor at your age back then. They welcomed you with open arms and made sure you were never left out.

Anyway you and Tom were acting like total fans, pointing at the portraits of the past winners of the competition and commenting on every detail as you made your way inside the restaurant. Chris and Robert tuned the both of you out and was having their own conversation. Scarlett just rolled her eyes and laughed.

You noticed felt the cameras point to the five of you despite them being hidden in corners. Robert smoothed his suit jacket and greeted his fellow actors that were dining as well. You contained your squeals as you saw the kitchen with both red and blue teams now prepping for their service.

They brought glasses, water, champagne and menus after you all settled to a table.

“It’s beautiful in here - oh, thanks,” Scarlett smiled at you when you handed her a glass of champagne.

Tom was sneaking glances at both teams stationed at the kitchen. “Look, Y/N, it’s them! Which team are you rooting for?” Then he looked at the blue plate coasters on the table. “I hope the blue team’s alright tonight.”

“I hope so.” You laughed.

“Wait what if they aren’t? Are we not getting served?” Robert questioned, handing the menus back after all of you ordered. That made Tom giggle and explain the whole show to him. Chris hid his face behind his hand and stopped himself from laughing.

Moments later Gordon himself walked up to your table and greeted everyone politely. “Good evening, thank you for coming,” which you all returned with smiles and murmurs.

Then the celebrity chef left for the kitchen to attend to the contestants. “Listen up, look who just arrived. The cast of Avengers.”

Some of the amateur chefs turned their heads away from their tasks to get a good look.

“I almost dropped my pan,” a chef from the red team laughed. “Honestly I wouldn’t hesitate to switch with the blue team just to make sure they get a good service tonight. I love the Avengers.”

“That’s Iron Man!”

“Who?”

“They have a new movie coming out, right?”

“Chris Evans is literally - sitting - right - there.” A chef from the blue team squealed. “It’s such an honor. He looks beautiful in person.”

All of you gave little waves, smiles and Tom gave a thumbs up as encouragement. Soon the attention from your table died and you were in silent conversation among yourselves.

“They’re offering us the chef’s table over there,” Robert pointed out to the vacant one over by the blue team. “Should we? What do you guys think?”

“Woah, no way, really?” Tom looked at you excitedly (as if the both of you weren’t famous actors and being at the chef’s table were your wildest dreams).

You had doubts. Sitting cramped (because as far as you knew that table seated about four people max) and listening to a British chef lose his shit meters away...

“Doesn’t he yell a lot though?” Chris said silently, referring to Ramsay. He did recall watching that lamb sauce online.

“As much as I’d love to,” you chuckled. “I’m having same thoughts. We’re better off watching from afar, Tom.”

“I agree,” Scarlett nodded and the waiter got the hint, walking away.

The service went on. You and Tom were watching them cook while still trying to look appropriate and mature for the cameras filming on the side. The sounds of trays clanking echoes the room, the amateur chefs froze like deers in headlights, looking at the man who owns the restaurant. Soon enough, Ramsay’s long string of profanity joined in.

“Oh boy,” Robert casually sipped on his drink while watching the celebrity chef throwing the raw pieces of meat in the trash.

You and Chris visibly flinched as Ramsay yelled at a poor contestant on the red team, sending them to the storage closet for a chat. You obviously knew what was coming to that chef.

“Both of you, just fuck off! Get out!”

“The risotto is burnt, look at it! It’s burnt!”

After some time it was noticeable that both teams were fucking up their dinner services. Your table had finished the first course, your plates were taken away now and the next course was taking too long.

“I am so sorry, the food still needs a few more minutes. They have to re-plate everything.” Ramsay approached your table to apologize but he sent glares when he looked back at the teams as if telling them to hurry the fuck up.

“No problem, right guys? We just need a few more of these,” Robert gestured to the bottle of champagne and Chris laughed heartily. “Oh, and,” he leaned over to whisper something to the chef.

“A bit of motivation, since all of you seem to be giving up,” the chef announced to the contestants when he got back to the kitchen. “The winning team of tonight’s service will receive a  gift card for Avengers: Infinity War.”

Some of the guests cheered, most of the amateur chefs upped their game. Few of them didn’t know what an Avengers do-hickey was but they sped up anyway.

“...and a hug from Chris Evans!” You called out loud enough for Ramsay to hear. Your co-stars burst out laughing, Chris being the loudest, he nodded his head to confirm it.

Ramsay let out a chuckle and added, “and a hug from Captain America himself.”

“Hi! I’ll be serving your desserts for tonight,” a member of the blue team strolled over with dessert ingredients prepped. She was younger than most of her team members, she was in charge of the tableside service. They were a couple more delays for the previous course, you and Scarlett’s meals were served late, but it was worth it. The food was great. “It’s an honor to meet all of you, me and siblings love the Avengers.”

Both you and Tom grinned at that.

“Got a favorite?” Robert wiggled his eyebrows making the chef giggle. He pointed to himself and made disgusted looks to Chris as if they were the only choices.

“I gotta say Black Widow, she’s so badass.” She laughed. Scarlett stuck her tongue out to both men and fist bumped the chef, then leaving her to do her job. “So what I’m going to be making for you is...”

Tom was asking questions here and there, intrigued by it.  No wonder her team was falling apart at the kitchen, she looks more composed than any of her teammates.

Ramsay yelled out the chef’s name after she served the last dessert. The rest of her team was sent back before the night ended, so she had to go as well.

“But you did great!” Tom frowned.

“Yeah, the dessert was amazing.” You smiled.

“I’m still part of their team. But thank you, I appreciate it,” she shrugged, smiling, pulling off her apron and dashing to the back kitchen.

Once the restaurant closed you all thanked Gordon for the wonderful food. He asked for a group photo before leaving.

But you still had to wait for Chris since he owed the red team a bunch of hugs (and pictures, for sure).

[industriallyinsecure]

Since this is a shitpost hell I hope you hear me out. What do you think would happen if la squadra's darling, wanting a pet but not getting one (or being allergic to them), started treating them like a pet occasionally? Not in a weird fetish way but rather giving head pats, offering them to rest on their lap while they read, watch something or nap or feeding them a snack when they seem to be doing good. Like a silent companion type of affection?

*Zaps them all with a catboy laser* problem solved

With Sorbet and Gelato you're most likely to be treated like a pet, so you’d probably pick up on their love language too. Gelato loves physical affection while Sorbet is happy with quietly sitting next to you while the TV is on. There’s lots of love to go around, and plenty of loving head pats and back scratches for the three of you. Please give them both the same amount of attention, though. You’ll be accused of favoritism, and Gelato has a rather nasty jealous streak. Sorbet is far more understanding and doesn’t complain when you give Gelato more domestic sweetness than him. Gelato is needy, but he’s more than happy to let his tesorino take his share of your affection.

Risotto isn’t a cuddler. Even though he was deprived of it as a child, he still didn’t force you to touch him or force you to let him hold you. It was already like living with a cat in a sense. He tended to watch from afar, eyes fixed on your every move. It’s when you called him over to rest in your lap that his opinion changed. You took his hat and put it on, tracing his buzzed undercut and playing with his messy mop of snowy hair. It would’ve been more therapeutic if he hadn’t locked up and stiffened when you did it. Gradually, he came around to having a little bit of loving attention, but always shied away when he had enough. In an odd way, it was cute. A big giant killer who had kidnapped you was shy about being loved on. On days where he was particularly stressed or didn’t want to be touched because he was still on high alert, you’d attempt to stand on a surface to make yourself taller and gently pat his head.

Ghiaccio is already pretty much like a cat. He’s temperamental, only lets you touch him on his terms, and is very aloof. There’s a high chance he already rests his head in your lap after a long day, but you gently combing through his curls was new, and surprisingly not unwelcome. He did get a little pissy when you started to gently rub his ears when he ranted though. He looked it up the day before and found it was a way to soothe anxiety and promptly started denying that he was anxious in any way and didn’t need your comfort. It was...tense, to say the least, when he put his head in your lap the next time. Of course, growing used to your gentle petting, he was miffed when you didn’t give him the attention that he wanted. He starts to headbutt and place your hand on his head. Absolutely do NOT feed him anything! Even as a joke! He might bite you.

Melone loves it!! He’s a very big believer in physical affection and will melt in your arms if you stroke his back while he works. And he’ll be over the moon if you play with his hair! His favorite is if you two are wrapped up in warm blankets with a rom-com or comedy movie on so he can snuggle close and be loved on. One of his favorite cheesy couple things to do is to feed each other little bites of things. If he can get away with it, he’ll rest his head in your palm and just smile at you. Likely to return your mannerisms and love all over you if you let him. But if you don’t, he’ll whine about you not being fair and being a tease. You’ve made your bed, so now you have to lie in it, next to a very cuddly Melone. Make remarks about him being like a cat at your own risk.

Prosciutto is also very catlike. He won’t let you touch his head, he doesn’t like to curl up with you (even in private), and hates being “infantilized” as he calls it. Poor man is so touch starved that his definition of infantilize is doing normal lovey dovey couple stuff like feeding each other small bites of food and such. Yet he still loves the attention, even if he’s being prissy about it. He likes to let you indulge in your little petting for a while before abruptly stopping you with his hand when he’s had enough. Not that he’ll ever admit, but he likes it when you gently undo his hair. He enjoys being pampered, but only when he wants the pampering, which isn’t very often. Once in a while he’ll let you snuggle up to him and stroke and pet his chest, back, etc.. Eventually you do get to feed him some charcuterie (not prosciutto though because that’s cannibalism). All in all he’s very good about letting you know when he wants attention and when he wants to admire you from the balcony while he lights up another cigarette.

Pesci is used to being manhandled by Prosciutto, so your gentle touches startled him at first. He loves it when you pat his head and poke his cheeks. Snuggle with him, please. Little spoon or big spoon, he doesn’t care. And please, please, please, pat his head!! He likes to have his hair gently ruffled and his cheeks squished. Any sort of positive attention he will appreciate and love. It only fuels his passion and convinces him that taking you was the right decision. He’s your sweet little fish, no matter what happens.

Illuso only allows you to play with his hair if he’s fresh out of the shower or if he’s feeling generous that day. For lack of better words, Illuso is an attention whore but is also very specific about the attention he gets. He likes to be verbally praised and only lets you touch him if he wants to be touched. That being said, there’s a reason the center of his jacket is cut out. He likes to have you stroke and caress his chest and tell him he’s handsome. Secretly, he wants you to fight back and insist on pampering him because he’s just that type of person. If you give in to his secret desire, prepare to have it thrown back in your face when you(inevitably) fight him.

Formaggio is the type to already put his head in your lap and beg for love. He and Melone are the biggest lovers and givers of affection, except Formaggio actively seeks out anything he can get. Putting his head in your lap, snuggling close in bed, pressing up against you from behind; there’s not much he won’t do for just the slightest touch. He melts in your arms if you gently scratch his head or pet him. His pet names for you will always outweight your pet-treatment of him, though. Such names include: hunny bunny, snuggle bug, sugar pie. All in all, it’s pretty wholesome if you look over the fact that he’s forced you into a relationship.

[orobaxi]

you’re zhongli’s first sexual & romantic partner for over a millennia, & he’s more than a bit touch starved. all he wants is you.

♡ ; nsfw & femdom. pwp. 1076 words. more tags utc. ♡ ; i’ll write a second part if this does well.

♡ ; degrading, “mommy,” nipple play, overstimulation, praise. “mommy” is only a title, no age-play & mm/lb occurs.

it was embarrassing, really – how could someone so reticent & levelheaded be reduced to such a state? nervously adjusting his gloves every minute or so as he quietly flipped through the papers on his desk, spending a considerable amount of time reading & rereading the same sentences repeatedly before he turned to the next page. this was all in an attempt to distract himself from his current predicament, however, he soon found that his efforts were in vain. with his cock uncomfortably straining against his pants & the downright filthy thoughts ceaselessly plaguing his mind, zhongli realized what he wanted – no, needed – from you, but he wasn’t quite sure how to ask. he didn’t even know if he should leave his office area like this. he did know that you would come in to check on him sooner or later, as per the routine. since he spent hours upon hours thoroughly engrossed in his work, often forgetting to eat or drink, you began to randomly check on him throughout the day. sometimes you brought him a snack, sometimes you attempted to coax him into taking a break. while he’d rarely accept your persuasions, you knew he appreciated the fact that you tried in the first place. that fact, which was conveniently combined with the fact that you genuinely worried for the man, continuously urged you to become a creature of habit – so much so, in fact, that you found yourself checking in his office whenever he wasn’t home.

you’d never let zhongli know, though.

your peaceful musings were interrupted by an odd feeling as you peeked your head around the doorframe to his office. something was… off, yet you couldn’t quite describe why you felt that way. deciding to investigate further, you hastily entered the room, gently closing the door behind you. upon hearing the quiet click of the door, zhongli’s unusually panicked gaze shot up, & you could see him breathe an inaudible sigh of relief the moment he realized it was you. “you scared me, love,” you took note of his shaky voice as he continued, “can you please… inform me before you do that next time?” “you seem a bit uneasy, dear. is something wrong?” you hummed while you slowly approached his desk, gently resting your hands on one of the many stacks of paper. as you began to quietly drum your fingers against said paper, though, you noticed how entranced he seemed to be by them. after a moment or so of waiting for his response, your eyebrows furrowed & you let out a sigh. “zhongli?” 

snapping out of his thoughts, zhongli’s gaze flickered around the room as he seemingly looked at everything but you. after a quiet clearing of his throat, he forced himself to look at the papers in front of him. “ah, i’m sorry. i–i’m not sure that i heard you.” “is something bothering you?” “why would you think that?” “your voice is shaky, you’re unusually jumpy, you won’t meet my gaze… need i go on?”

“...i see. i understand how this must look,” he cleared his throat once more & forced his lust-filled gaze away from your fingers – the fingers that he didn’t realize he was staring at again, “i can assure you that i’m alright, love. i appreciate the concern…” as he trailed off, you quietly wondered how a six-thousand-year-old man could be so terrible at hiding his emotions. sure, he was extremely talented with concealing any typical, day-to-day emotions he’s dealt with over his life. however, he was utterly incompetent when it came to hiding any emotions pertaining to love or lust. zhongli would never admit this, of course. with a giggle, you reminded him that all he has to do is ask if he wanted your touch, & that he wouldn’t receive any relief unless he begged for it.

one thing led to another, & zhongli’s miscellaneous papers were scattered along the floor, unfortunately paired with a newly-shattered inkpot. however, this was the least of your concerns at the time – especially when you had zhongli perched atop the desk, half-naked & aching for your touch, whimpers & moans leaving his lips whenever you toyed with his nipples. “(y/n)– (y/n), please…” he trailed off, hips desperately bucking up in search of friction. before he could speak again, you abruptly pinched his nipples, eliciting an utterly pornographic moan from the man as his back arched ever so slightly. “that’s not my name right now, baby,” you purred, “i thought you were smarter than this. do i fuck you up this badly? i’ve barely touched you, are you this much of a slut for me?” “ye–yes, mommy, i am—” he cut himself off with a moan as you tweaked his nipples once more, “i’m your slut– i’m–i’m your slut, just– please, please– i need you, mommy. i need you so fucking bad, please—!” he cut himself off once again, however, the near-expected moan was replaced with a surprised gasp as you tugged his beautifully straight hair. “good boy. you’re such a mess for me, huh? i wonder if i could make you cum from playing with your nipples alone… what do you think, dear? you seem to be having so much fun already.” one of your hands palmed his leaking cock through his underwear, mischievously smiling at him as your fingers traced gentle circles over the wet spot. the other continuously squeezed & twisted one of his nipples, briefly pausing to give his other nipple attention every now & then. zhongli whimpered when you stopped touching him, looking at you with misty, lust-filled eyes – eyes which soon fluttered shut as you began to suck on one of his almost overstimulated nipples. slowly circling your tongue around it, occasionally stopping to give it a gentle bite or two, cherishing the heavenly moans that filled the room. you never ceased your abuse on the poor man, even after his back arched & his hands tangled themselves in your hair & tugged so roughly that you were sure he ripped some out. “it’s too m–much, i can’t…” “oh, you can & you will, baby. go on,” you urged, tenderly rubbing his cock through his precum-soaked underwear, “you can do it. cum for me. be a good boy & cum for mommy.” & just like that, he came completely & utterly undone – tears rolling down his flushed cheeks, hips bucking into your hand as he came… yet, he knew you weren’t done with him just yet.

[sometimesitrytowritethings]

Home

A great big special thank you to @peachy-mags for the full version of the fantastic companion artwork for this piece! (https://peachy-mags.tumblr.com/post/654049235542622208/)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 13.2k

Warnings:  Smut, Swearing, Canon-typical violence

Summary: After years of service to Angelo Bronte, who would have thought that the arrival of little Jack Marston could change your life forever?

Notes: My submission for @rdrbigbang! Be sure to check out the AMAZING companion art for this fic from @peachy-mags!

-----

Another beautiful morning in Saint Denis. You breathed in deeply, reveling in the calm peace that so rarely enveloped the town. There was a slight nip in the air that you knew would fade away as the morning drew on, the sun rising and casting everything in a pale-yellow light, before the city itself awakened. It was your favorite time of day.

A cup of coffee steamed in your hands as you slowly made your way through the gardens at Angelo Bronte’s mansion. One of the perks of being a live-in servant, you supposed, was unfettered access to the (admittedly slightly ostentatious) statue garden out back - given that Signor Bronte himself wasn’t occupying the space. After a few minutes of slow, calm pacing, you found yourself standing in front of a marble statue of some Roman goddess, Aphrodite?, and taking a sip of your coffee. 

It was hot and bitter, the perfect juxtaposition to the cool morning that you would allow yourself to enjoy for a few moments longer. Soon, you would need to make your way inside and ready the table for breakfast, but for now you could enjoy this moment. This peace.

Unfortunately, that peace was almost immediately broken by the sound of terrified cries coming from inside the house. It was not all that uncommon to hear screams and sobs from inside the building, due to the scrupulous nature of your employer, but these sounded different. Almost childlike.

Curious, you made your way back indoors, trying your best to steady your pace so as not to draw unwanted attention. Setting the coffee cup in the kitchen next to the large washbasin, you nodded to the cook, Giovanni, before opening the door to the servant’s stairwell. 

The crying was louder here. Anguished and frightened sobs broken only occasionally by cries for “Mama”. 

So it was a child?

Quietly, you crept up the creaky stairs to the hallway, where several of Bronte’s more scrupulous henchmen, Gene, Alfonso and Irvin, were gathered around a door. The crying was even louder now, and most certainly coming from the room where the henchmen were standing guard. Above the desperate sobs, you could just make out the sounds of your employer trying to shush the child, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Now, now, my boy,” he soothed, his accent unmistakable. “There’s no need to be upset, I’m sure your family will come after you soon enough.” The boy continued to cry for his mother in between sobs. Signor Bronte’s tactic wasn’t exactly working.

The men standing guard had spotted you, and closed their ranks tighter. You knew how this went - you were never allowed to see Bronte’s victims. In fact, as far as you were supposed to know, Bronte participated in no underhanded dealings whatsoever. Which was, of course, completely wrong, and you had figured that out long ago. But for the most part, you tried your best to ignore the dealings - for the sake of keeping yourself alive.

But this was a child.

You had to do something. 

Carefully, you moved closer to the line of henchmen standing in front of the door. They were larger than you, Signor Bronte had a habit of finding and employing practical giants to act as his henchmen, but they were also silent.

“Signor Bronte?” you called, standing nearly face-to-chest with one of the large men. “Is everything alright? Can I be of service?”

The men in front of you reddened, irritated at your immunity to their intimidation tactics. They stayed silent, however, and maintained their position as a wall of flesh between you and the crying child in the room. 

After just a few moments, you heard your name being called with a familiar Italian lilt . “Come in, come in. We could use your help,” he hailed for you over the steady sobs from the room. 

The three men at the door reluctantly parted to let you enter the brightly lit room. A fire was burning low in the hearth, likely more of a symbol of comfort than to actually provide any heat, and your boss sat on the side of a large, gaudy bed. 

The boss of the largest crime syndicate in San Denis was a feared man, but if you met him in the street, you would never know. He was small, with a prominent nose and dark eyes that never overlooked anything. At home, his dark was hair slicked back under a floral headband, and his red housecoat opened in the front to reveal an unbuttoned white collared shirt. To anyone who didn’t know him, he could have passed as any rich, european immigrant.

But you knew better. In the middle of the luxurious home, beneath the extravagance of his clothing, sat a cunning, intelligent man who had clawed his way up from hell itself. He was cutthroat, manipulative, and would not hesitate to sell out his closest comrade for a step up the ladder. Knowing this, it didn’t surprise you to see a small boy curled up on the large, gaudy bed, his clothes muddied and his light brown hair in tangles. He couldn’t have been older than four or five, and was screaming adamantly for his mother. 

Instinctually, you rushed to the bed and sat next to him, taking the spot that had been occupied by your boss. “Now, my dear,” he said as he stood, clearing his throat and adjusting his housecoat, “this young man is Jack, and he will be staying with us for a while.” You looked sympathetically at the boy, still sobbing and curled up in front of you, before giving your boss a solemn nod. 

You hated this; seeing the boy in such a familiar state. A state that you, yourself, had been in for years upon your arrival in San Denis. Hopefully his parents, unlike yours, could pay off whatever debt they had soon. “If you could stop his screams, I would appreciate it. He’s giving me a headache,” Signor Bronte continued, reaching up to massage the bridge of his nose with one hand as he headed toward the door. “Get him some breakfast. I’m sure he hasn’t been fed since those hillbillies in Rhodes took him.”

Without another word, he walked from the room and the three henchmen followed closely behind him. As he entered the hallway, you could hear him speaking to them in Italian, “Let’s hope these bastards come for him soon. I want to have the little shit out of here as soon as possible.”

The door closed behind them, and you were left in the room with the poor, frightened child. You sighed and slowly moved closer to the curled up figure on the bed. Making sure you were as gentle as possible, you reached out to place a hand on his tiny shoulder. “Jack?...” you said his name, low and calm, as if you were trying to tame a spooked horse. He curled even further into himself, but you noticed his sobs had started to die down to exhausted whimpers. “Jack?” you tried again, pulling your hand back to yourself and placing it in your lap. Calmly, you gave him your name before continuing, “I’m very sorry about all of this, Jack. I know it’s very scary…. I-”

What could you tell him? That you had been in the same situation when you were just a few years older? That your parents had never been able to come back for you? That you had spent the majority of your life in service to Angelo Bronte, notorious mafioso, in order to pay a massive debt that had been racked up by your father when you were eight?

No. He didn’t need to know those things. He didn’t need to know the likely reality of his situation.

It was rare that Signor Bronte dealt in child kidnappings, but when he did? The poor kids were lucky if their parents were able to retrieve them.

“I’m sure your ma and pa will show up for you soon,” you soothed, hoping it was the truth.

The poor boy, whose sobs had now turned into quiet sniffles, stayed curled up with his back to you, unmoving. You reached out a hand gently, brushing his dirty hair away from his forehead, only for him to flinch from your touch. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Alright, Jack,” you said quietly, standing from the bed. A nearby armchair held a throw blanket that you spread gently over him. “Why don’t you get some rest, I’ll bring you some water and some soup in a bit, I’m sure you’re starving.” The floor creaked beneath your feet as you made your way to the door. He didn’t move. He didn’t look up at you. He just stayed on the bed, a shaking, sniffling bundle. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Sighing, you stepped out of the room and into the hallway, making sure to lock the door behind you. You didn’t think he would run away, he seemed far too exhausted and overwhelmed for that, but you have seen desperate people do crazier things. The least you could do was make sure he wasn’t accidentally hurt trying to make his way past Gene, Alfonso and Irvin trying to escape.

You made your way quickly back to the servants stairwell and down to the kitchen, where Giovanni was waiting for you with bated breath. A joyous, loving man, an immigrant from Italy alongside Angelo Bronte several decades ago, Giovanni was one of your closest friends - possibly the next thing to family that you had had since coming here. Over the years, he had taught you as much as he could about Italian cuisine, all the while boasting about the restaurant that he would surely open one day. 

At first, you had scoffed. Hardly anyone in Angelo Bronte’s service managed to leave and start their own life. And, with as much as Signor Bronte boasted about Giovanni’s food, it wasn’t likely that he would be let out of his repayment contract that easily. 

Hardly anyone actively sought out Angelo Bronte as an employer. In fact, you suspected that the only actual well-paid employees were the contract killers he sometimes took out to keep his hands clean - but again, you weren’t supposed to know that. The rest of you were given room and board and a pittance of a salary, in exchange for paying off whatever debt was owed to Signor Bronte. For you, it was your father’s sizable gambling debts. For Giovanni, it was the cost of keeping his nieces and nephews alive after their father, his brother, had suddenly passed. Bail, loans, gambling - every one of his employees had a past, and every single one of them owed their future to Angelo Bronte.

“And, my dear, what is the news?” he asked, turning from the freshly baked bread that he had just taken out of the oven to face you. 

You gave him a somber smile and picked up a slice of tomato from the cutting board in the center of the kitchen island. “A boy,” you explained, leaning against the island and taking a bite of the vegetable. You glanced over at the washbasin and saw your coffee cup had been cleaned. Giovanni was a saint. “Maybe four or five? Small, either way. I…” you trailed off, but the both of you knew what was going through your mind. You felt bad for him, you didn’t think he deserved this.

Giovanni nodded, and turned to the stove. “Well, my dear, let’s give the boy a warm welcome, shall we?” he responded before pulling a large pot from the back of the stove and looking inside. “We have some leftover minestrone from yesterday, why don’t you warm some up for him while I finish Signor Bronte’s breakfast? There’s some stale bread in the pantry you can add to it. I’ll call in Anne to set the table,” he handed you a wooden spoon and was out the kitchen door, where you heard him calling for the older woman.

Your smile was significantly less downtrodden after speaking to the man, but you still could feel anxious, worried butterflies in your stomach as you collected a bowl, spoon and glass. After a quick glance around the room to make sure no one was watching, you also slipped a small chocolate bar into your apron pocket, hoping it would help cheer the boy up, even a little. Within just a few minutes, you were headed back up the creaky stairs to the room where Jack was housed, hot soup and cool water in hand, and armed with a secret chocolate bar.

Quietly, you opened the door, balancing the soup and a glass of water with your left arm as you entered. The room was silent now, except for the low breathing of the boy on the bed. If it weren’t for his red-puffy eyes and the chapped rings around his nostrils, he would have seemed peaceful. Like nothing was wrong at all.

You stood for a moment, looking at the poor boy. Should you wake him? He was bound to be starving, but you were sure he was exhausted as well. You hesitated, but decided against it. You could leave the soup and water on the bedside table and check on him throughout the day - he deserved his rest.

Slowly, quietly, you crept across the room to the side of the bed and set the soup and water down, followed by the chocolate bar. You glanced quickly at him, relieved he didn’t wake, before making your way back to the door.

Just as you were about to leave and go about your duties for the morning, you heard a small cough and a hoarse, timid voice from the bed. “Wait…” he said. You turned to see the boy propped up on his arms, looking at you with puffy, shining eyes. “Please don’t leave me.”

Looking at him made you want to cry. How could anyone hurt someone so small, so fragile, so helpless? How could someone be so cruel as to take him away from his family and thrust him into this god awful world?

He was already so exhausted, so frightened, so sad, you couldn’t leave him to sort his feelings out on his own.  You could convince Anna and Giovanni to take your duties for the day. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded at him and moved back toward the bed to sit with him. “I won’t.”

---

Slowly, Jack began to settle in. Although he was still obviously upset, the boy proved to be far more flexible and resilient than you had expected from someone so young. Whether from his natural resilience or from your constant reassurance that his parents must be doing everything in their power to get him back, you weren’t entirely certain. You spent plenty of time with him, making sure he was doing alright, and eventually he chose to sleep on a small cot in the servants quarters, next to your bed. 

He was prone to constant chatter during the day, and you soon learned quite a lot about him and his family. He apparently had plenty of aunts and uncles, who all moved together around the country. They had been down near Blackwater for a long time, where Jack had apparently left his favorite storybook, but then something brought them north to a small ghost town “with lots of snow, it was real cold!”. Luckily, they hadn’t been there long before heading south again to “a place by a river with lots and lots of trees” where, notably, his Uncle Arthur had taken him fishing. Most recently, they had moved down to Lemoyne, once again near a river, but this time Jack described it as “really hot and nothing ever dries and it always smells like fish.”

An accurate description if you had ever heard one.

In the meantime, although he wouldn’t talk much to the others, most of them couldn’t help but dote on him. Giovanni had a habit of slipping him sweets throughout the day. Anna and the other maids would occasionally bring him books or toys that they had found around town - he was amassing quite a collection. And from Signor Bronte himself, Jack received a brand new outfit made from the finest cotton. You suspected it was most likely to keep the worn rags out of the man’s sight than to actually please Jack.

But, despite the gifts and the treats from the others, Jack clung to you. On laundry days, he would help sort and fold. When cooking, he would clean the vegetables without a second thought. During cleaning, he happily carried supplies around after you, handing you what you needed whenever asked. Although you had told him multiple times that he was more than welcome to sit and read his new book, he preferred staying by your side. 

Almost as if he was afraid that, if left alone, he would be taken again.

And at night, it always came to a head. In the dark and left with no distractions, you could hear his whimpers from the cot next to yours. You could hear his murmurs and quiet cries for “Mama” as he dreamt. And it hurt. You couldn’t bear to see him so miserable.

After the third or fourth night, you reached down and brushed the hair from his head. “Jack?” you whispered, looking at the small boy with all the affection of a loving mother. “It’s going to be alright, I promise.”

He didn’t wake. Instead, he sleepily lifted his hand to yours, and held it in his until the sun rose.

--

The first few weeks went by similarly. Working during the day, with Jack at your side, helping you out as much as a child could, and comforting the poor child during the night with reassuring words. Soon, the reassurance and affirmations turned into stories -  tales about dragons and castles, about magic and the sea. 

About two weeks into his stay, you spent the day preparing for a large feast alongside Giovanni, Anna and with plenty of help from Jack. 

“You didn’t finish your story last night,” he said, pounding away at a ball of bread dough with his tiny fists. 

“Oh yes I did,” you teased, looking the boy dead in the eye with a grin. “You were just too sleepy and fell asleep before the end.” As you joked, you set down the knife and pushed aside the tomato you had been chopping to poke him lightly in the side.

His joyous laughter lit up his face. “Hey!” he whined in between bouts of giggles. “That tickles!”

“I know, silly,” you returned not relenting your tickle torture. “That’s the point!” You did acquiesce after just a few moments though, not wanting to actually cause him any pain.

“Alright you two, calm down, now,” came Anna’s voice from across the room. She was a lovely, portly older woman, with graying hair and a smile to light up a room. If Giovanni had been your father figure since coming here, she certainly took the place of your mother. “We’ve got plenty to prepare for tonight. Signor Bronte is having the Mayor over to talk about his party.”

You let your giggles die down, and nudged the red-faced child next to you. “Now look what you’ve done, Jackie,” you teased softly, ruffling his hair before going back to chopping vegetables.

“Nuh uh,” he responded, giving the bread dough a thorough punch before looking up at you again with a childish grin. He had lost a tooth recently, which only made it all the more adorable. “Can you tell me the end of the story?” he asked after another moment, turning back to the mound of dough on the table. “It was so good, I wanna hear the end. Pretty please?”

A chuckle escaped your lips. “Alright, alright,” you chided, picking up yet another tomato. It wasn’t a particularly good story, just a thinly veiled version of… well, you didn’t want to dwell on that, but if he wanted to hear it, you would oblige. “Where were we?”

“Hmmm…” he mused, stopping kneading the dough for just a second to recall. “Well, the king and queen had just sent the princess to talk to the mean dragon, and then he caught her in a trap, remember?”

“That’s the beginning of the story, Jack.”

“Well, that’s as far as I remember,” his giggles echoed through the room and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, fine,” you feigned irritation that he definitely could see right through. “Well, the princess had been caught in a trap by the mean dragon, but he didn’t hurt her. He… he just wouldn’t let her go home. He wouldn’t let her see the king and queen again so she could be happy.

“‘Your king and queen need to send a knight to come get you,’ the dragon told the princess. ‘Little girls cannot roam the forest on their own.’

“And so, the princess waited, and waited and waited and waited. She learned to read, and write, and she even learned to speak Dragon, which were talents unheard of for princesses in those days. 

“She had lots of friends who came and went, and even though she couldn’t go back to the king and queen, she... she wasn’t so lonely… and she learned to find happiness in the small things, like the smell of coffee in the morning, or turning the page of a brand new book, or even the glow of the sunrise on spring dew. 

“After a while, she finally realised that she didn’t need the king and queen to be happy. She could make her own happiness… And she did…” you trailed off at the end, returning your focus once again to the vegetables. The other two adults in the room remained silent. You couldn’t have been more blatantly obvious. “The end.”

Jack was quiet for a moment as well, hands stilled on the dough as he looked at the ceiling in thought. “That wasn’t a very good ending,” he said quietly, looking up at you.

You had been caught.

“The princess should have run away, or she should have asked one of her friends to take her when they were leaving,” he continued, determined.

You chuckled solemnly. “You’re probably right, Jack,” you murmured. “I think she was just… scared. The world was dark and scary for her, and she weren’t a very brave princess, and she was worried about what would happen to the king and queen if she left.”

“But that’s not true,” he interjected, throwing one final punch at the bread dough before Anna came to collect it from him. “She was real brave! She lived with a dragon! And dragons are real scary!” He was handed another mound of dough which he immediately proceeded to punch with all his might. “And maybe some of her friends come back to save her! Maybe she helped lots of people while they were living with the dragon, and then they come back to help her! That would be an even better ending!”

Another chuckle. He was far too adorable and far too naive for this house. “Maybe, Jack,” you responded, plastering a knowing smile to your lips. “That would be a good ending.” Clearing your throat, you wiped your hands on your apron and turned to face the small boy. “Alright now, you. Finish up with that bread and then we can get cleaned up for lunch. I think Giovanni is making us spaghetti.”

---

The hot water splashed out of the bucket, spraying suds across the floor. Jack giggled and picked up a handful, blowing it in your direction.

You couldn’t help but laugh. The kid sure did know how to make even the most boring of chores into a game. Looking around first to make sure no one caught you messing around, you picked up a handful of bubbles and plopped them onto his head. This brought out a shrieking laugh from the boy. He really was settling in. For better or worse, at least he seemed to be happier. 

Finally, you told him gently that you needed to finish the laundry, and then the two of you could go outside for a walk. This, somehow, convinced him to calm down, left playing with the bubbles and giggling to himself until he was interrupted by a voice calling your name from the hall.

Signor Bronte.

“Get these men drinks,” you heard, his spoken Italian echoing across the hall.

Immediately, you put the wash down and wiped your hands on your dirtied apron before hustling to the liquor cabinet. “Wait here, Jack. I’ll just bring the whisky out and be right back,” you instructed, quickly gathering six whisky glasses and a serving tray.

This had been your job for years, you could practically do it blindfolded. As one of the youngest servants in the house, Signor Bronte tended to like to have you wait on his more esteemed guests. It was degrading, but it kept you in his good graces. You had seen enough servants come and go to know that complaining about your role would get you nowhere. Or worse.

Quickly, you pulled a decanter from the cabinet, and left the room with the tray full of glasses in your hands. Already in the hallway, you could hear the conversation between the men in the room. “Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, John Marston,” introduced one of the strangers, his voice confident.

You brushed past Irvin, who was standing guard at the entrance, into extravagant parlour. Upon entering the room, you could immediately see that these were not the typical guests that Signor Bronte would waste his good whisky on, but you hardly had time to look at them individually. They seemed dirty, rough, and completely out of place in the richly-decorated parlour. 

“The pleasure is mine, all mine, please,” he said, summoning you forward. You warily step between the chairs to place the tray on the table and pour the glasses, handing them to each man in turn. First, to a tall, thin man with dark hair and a frustrated scowl etched into his face. Next, a muscular man with light brown hair and bright teal eyes, and finally, another dark-haired man, his hair slick with pomade and dressed in clothing that looked like it used to be expensive. 

“So, can my friend have his son?” says one of the men - the one who had introduced them all earlier. You nearly froze. Can my friend have his son?

Jack. 

It took you just a moment to gather your wits before you turned to your boss, handing him the last glass. He took it with a nod to you and a chuckle, before looking back at the men in front of him. “Of course, of course!” he grinned, taking a sip of the whisky. You immediately got yourself out of the way, standing behind the couch in case you were needed for anything else, as you had been taught. “But… should I be out of pocket over a misunderstanding? Of course I know you would not want that…”

“No,” answered the man, slightly reluctantly. You noted that none of the other men had yet spoken, this must be their leader.

Bronte seemed satisfied with their response, choosing to ignore the reluctance with a jovial laugh. “No, no no. So, how about this? You perform a simple job for me and you get your son back,” he explained, rubbing his hands together like the villain he was.

Finally, one of the other men spoke.“What is it?” the larger of the two groaned, beginning to stand up, as if he knew he would be assigned to this task.

Bronte, of course, made light of the situation, waving his hands through the air as he spoke, “A couple of people have taken to grave robbing in the cemetery.”

“That is a fine place for it, the best,” joked the leader. You cringed, but Signor Bronte seemed to enjoy it.

Your boss burst out laughing, from the gut this time. “I love this guy, don’t you love him?” he laughed, looking at you. You nodded, plastering a smile to your face until he turned back to the other man. “I love you!” He paused for a moment to pour himself another glass of whisky before continuing his explanation. “See they’ve taken not only to desecrating the dead, but they've done so without paying a tribute to the living. Thing is, they see my men, of course, they run a mile. So maybe you two head off, huh?” he said, indicating to the men on the couch before pouring yet another glass of whisky and handing it to the group’s leader. “And you, Mr. Van der Linde? Why don’t you tell me more about my manners?” he finished speaking and held up the glass to the other man, Mr. van der Linde, for a toast as the other two men stood to leave the room. “Salute.”

“Salute,” parroted Mr. van der Linde, clinking his glass with your boss’s. The other two men exited the room, as your boss and Mr. van der Linde continued conversing. Their laughter was real, but something in the room was tense, fake. Two men cut from the same cloth, both trying to one-up the other without making it completely obvious.

You had seen this enough times to know that this would only end badly for at least one of them - if not both.

The hour dragged on, as you stood in the corner, ready to jump into service if need be. Your mind drifted to Jack - now sitting alone in the washroom - and that you would soon be saying goodbye.

It was bittersweet, this feeling that came over you. You wanted him to be happy, to be home with his family, of course, but over the course of the last few weeks, he had wormed his way into your heart. He was the family, the son, that you would never have. And it broke your heart to have to let him go.

But you knew better. You couldn’t keep him here. Not for you. It was better if he were able to go home, to see his mother and his family, to see his dog that he missed so much. That was the life he needed, the life he deserved.

You felt the tears well in your eyes as you stood, waiting for your orders. A little over three hours had passed, and the men were still away. Signor Bronte and Mr. van der Linde were well into their cups, and you were not surprised in the least when your boss stood and unceremoniously sent his guest on his way.

“And the boy?” asked Mr. van der Linde, standing from his position on the couch and reaching out a hand to shake.

Signor Bronte took it, gave it a quick shake and began to stagger out of the room. “Yes, yes,” he slurred, turning to you on his way. “Bring him down, would you?”

“Yes, Signore,” you nodded, looking from your boss to the other man. It was really happening. It was really time to say goodbye.

--

To say Jack was excited at the news was putting it lightly. He had nearly bounced with joy when you had told him that his Pa was here to pick him up. You had led him down the stairs and out the front door to where Mr. van der Linde was waiting patiently. Jack nearly tackled him to the ground in his excitement.

“Uncle Dutch!” he called, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist. 

A loud, barking laugh left the man as he patted Jack’s head. “Well hello there, son,” he said, a smile on his face. “It’s good to see you again. We’ve missed you around camp.”

You smiled, looking at the two of them. This was the right thing to do. But then, Jack did something wholly unexpected. He led Dutch to you, and introduced you.

“She’s been real nice since I got here,” he explained to the older man. “She told me stories and brought me candy, and today she even put bubbles on my head!” his excited giggles echoed across the yard.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Dutch said, looking you up and down before reaching out for your hand, which he then pulled to his lips in a theatrical show of chivalry. “And thank you so much for taking such good care of our boy.”

You plastered another smile to your face and gently pulled your hand away, wary of potentially offending the well-armed man. “Of course,” you responded. “I was happy to-” you were cut off by the well-timed sound of horse hooves on the cobblestones, and a loud, rough voice ringing in your ears.

“Like I said, we’ll see where we’re at once we got Jack,” said one of the men from earlier as their horses came to a halt in front of the gate. They dismounted and were immediately let in by one of the front guards. 

Upon their arrival, Dutch seemed to immediately forget your existence, instead striding towards the two men with an exasperated, “Well, you took your time.”

And then there was Jack, nearly bursting with excitement at the sight of the men, he couldn’t wait until they were through the gate before he ran to them with a cry of, “Pa!”

The sight warmed your heart. Jack was quickly picked up and clutched to the chest of the taller, dark-haired man as the other moved past you to hand something to the guards. “I’m so glad to see you!” he said, rubbing the back of Jack’s head and holding him close. 

However, Jack, completely oblivious to the nature of the situation, wiggled free of his father’s arms and, instead, grabbed his hand and pulled the man in your direction. “Pa, come here, come here, you have to meet my friend!” he said, voice loud and excited, as he introduced you to his father. “She’s been helping me since I got here. She tells the best stories!”

The man looked down at Jack with a loving smile and then up to you. “That so?” he asked the boy, reaching out to shake your hand. “John Marston.” 

You took his and introduced yourself as Jack rambled on, “Yeah! And she taught me how to make bread real good, want to see?”

“Sure, you can show us when we get back to camp,” John acquiesced, still holding tight to the boy’s hand, who then proceeded to drag the two of you over to the one man you did not yet have a name for.

“Uncle Arthur!” he called. The man, having dropped off whatever he had needed to give Signor Bronte, was leaning against a column and smoking. “You have to meet my friend too.”

“Is that right?” he said, smiling at Jack. He pushed himself off the column and snubbed his cigarette on his boot, moving toward the three of you. “Nice to meet you, miss,” for the third time that night, a hand was held out.

You shook it and introduced yourself, “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

John, looking both relieved and exhausted, heaved Jack back into his arms. “Thank you for taking care of him, I-”

Immediately, you stopped him. “It weren’t no problem, really. He’s a lovely boy,” you explained, once again trying to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. Taking care of Jack had easily been one of the highlights of your life. Having someone need you, someone that loved talking to you, someone who was simply excited to be around you - it was such a drastic change from how you had lived for so long. And, even if you would never experience it again, you wouldn’t trade the last few weeks for the world.

John nodded, you didn’t have to explain any further. “Comeon, Jack, your ma’s been worried sick.” Jack nodded to his father enthusiastically, a grin on his face, before turning and surprising you with a big hug.

You bent over to hug him back, patting him on his head when you heard your name. “You’re coming with us, right?” he asked, his tiny face buried in your dress. You looked around at the others, Arthur had paused in his tracks, John was frozen in place, Dutch was stopped near the gate. No one said anything for a moment.

You don’t know how to break it to him.

So, you pull his face from your skirt and kiss him gently on the forehead, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “I’m real sorry, Jack,” you say, looking him in the eye, “but not this time.” You felt tempted to say something like I promise I’ll write or You can come see me any time but you knew both of these things weren’t true. He would get home to his family, and in a few days you would just be a stranger from his childhood. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stood again, ruffling his hair and turning him to face his father. “Now, you go on back to your family, alright? Teach them how to make some good bread, like I showed you.”

His head was shaking as he looked back up at you, tears welling in his big brown eyes. “But…”

This hurt. More than saying goodbye to a child you had only known for a few weeks should. “I know, but…” you started, still not entirely sure how to explain yourself. “I have to stay here. This… this is my home.” You pull him to you once again in a tight hug and place a kiss on the top of his head. “You be good for your parents, alright?”

You can feel him nod under your chin, but he does not respond. It’s easy to tell that this is a new feeling for him - being so happy and so sad all at once. You wished you could tell him that its only temporary, and he will never have these conflicting feelings again. You wished you could have gone with him, broken free of Angelo Bronte and this life. There were so many things you wished you could do at that moment, but you couldn’t. Or you wouldn’t.

With a light sob, Jack wraps his arms around you one final time until he is gently pulled away by his father. “Comeon, son. We should get going.”

They walked to the gate together, John’s hand on his son’s back, leading the way. Jack was hoisted high onto a horse, and you could vaguely hear them talking to him, trying to cheer him up. “We have a new camp set up, Jack, you’re going to love it,” says Dutch before they ride off down the street.

Finally, you allow your tears to fall.

“Goodbye, Jack.”

---

The days pass slowly after Jack’s goodbye. There is little entertainment to pass the time. No dumb jokes, no begging for stories. It was exactly as it was before. Still, it felt like something was missing.

Early in the morning, a few days later, you walked around the house as usual, coffee in hand. You mused over the tasks for the days ahead: the Governor's garden party was in about a week, so it was time to start preparing. Clothes needed to be pressed, shoes to be shined, and, most importantly, mounds of food needed to be cooked.

Giovanni’s cooking was, although rarely shared outside of Signor Bronte’s home, lauded as some of the best in town. So, of course, Angelo Bronte’s personal chef would be graciously catering the meal.

It was supposed to be a sign of generosity, you theorised, but in reality it was all a show to keep Signor Bronte in the San Denis elite’s good graces - and to worm his way into another favor from the mayor.

You chuckled lightly to yourself as you paced slowly around the perfectly manicured gardens. Marble statues, imported from Italy, gazed down at you, unmoving. Quietly, you began to hum a short tune, not noticing the figure at the fence across from you. 

“Mornin’,” he called, his voice low and gruff, just as it had been when you had first met him.

You look up from the grass to the man, in surprise. He was leaning aginst the fence, patiently smoking a cigarette, and waiting. For you? “Ah, good morning, Mr. Morgan,” you call, making your way to him. He stubs out his cigarette on his boot and turns to fully face you. Only now, in the morning sunlight and away from the stress of Angelo Bronte, do you notice how attractive he is. Light brown hair framed an unshaven face, a strong jawline, light smattering of chest hair showing through the top of his unbuttoned collar. “It’s lovely to see you again. How is Jack doing?”

Arthur smiles at you, and the sun suddenly seems slightly brighter. “Boah’s doin’ good,” he says, leaning forward on the fence, one arm above his head to balance himself. “He’s happy to be home.”

You shoot him a small, bittersweet smile before turning your gaze to your coffee. “Good, I’m glad.”

“Misses you, though,” he continues, once he realises you aren’t going to say anything more. You look up at him, and notice he is fishing something out of his satchel. A small, folded piece of paper is passed through the bars of the fence, and you gently pluck it from his hand. “Sent this. Special delivery.”

You gently unfold the paper, and see a row of several stick figures, several people and what looks to be a dog, standing in front of some trees under a sunny sky. Under each of the figures, you can see several names scribbled in an adult’s hand.

Pa, Ma, Jack, Cain, Uncle Arthur… and you.

“Been told to tell you,” he continues, reaching through the fence with the hand that had been keeping him balanced and pointed at the figures on the paper. “That’s you… with us…”

You laugh lightly, glancing from the paper to the eyes of the man in front of you. A handsome teal, complimented by his, admittedly dirty, blue shirt. How had you not noticed him before? “This is real sweet of him, thank you,” you breathe, slightly softer than you had intended. You turn again to look at the drawing, hoping he didn’t notice the blush that had suddenly stained your cheeks.

The two of you stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the sun rise above the horizon. “You could come with us, you know,” he said after a minute, pulling another cigarette from his satchel and lighting it. “The boah would shoa be happy to have you ‘round.”

You smile at the thought. Waking up in the fresh air, telling Jack stories, getting to know his family. It would be lovely. But at the end of the day, it was easier said than done. “That… that’s a nice dream,” you told him, smiling. 

He huffed, and took a long drag from his cigarette. “It’s true,” he tells you, leaning against the fence once more. “The life… well it ain’t pretty. Sure as hell not as pretty as livin’ in a mansion. But it’s free. You ain’t gotta answer to no one you don’t want.”

You scoffed and found yourself kicking at the grass beneath your feet. It would surely be better than what you had here. Hell, it would be easy enough to walk through the gates with the intention to never come back. And, what was even keeping you here? Your family? You hadn’t seen them in years. Giovanni? Anna? They would both leave if they could. 

But, you knew it wasn’t possible. You’ve seen this kind of thing before. One of your fellow servants found a means of escape, only to be back within a week. If they weren’t found and killed onsight. Angelo Bronte had eyes in every corner. Flies on every wall. He would find you.

“I… I wish I could.”

--

You went to bed late that evening, your conversation with Arthur resounding in your head. You could come with us, you know. The boy would sure be happy to have you around. The thought had even permeated your dreams, enveloping you in a fantasy world. A beautiful campsite by a river, a group of people, happy, laughing, free. Jack and Arthur and John and Dutch, and even Giovanni and Anna. They were all there, and they were all happy.

But, of course, the threat lingered. What had started as a beautiful dream quickly turned sour as Angelo Bronte entered the scene, scaring away your friends, capturing you and dragging you back to San Denis, into a mansion that looked more like a prison with every step. You would never escape him. You could never be free.

You had woken early in the morning, covered in sweat and sheets kicked from the bed. Breathing heavily, you glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. It was early, but not early enough to warrant going back to sleep. Groaning, you stepped quietly from your bed and pulled on your dressing gown. Your morning ritual would begin earlier today.

The air was crisp, but your coffee was hot - the perfect combination for waking a person up in the morning. The birds sang in their early morning chorus as the slowly rising sun cast everything in a calm, light blue. It was earlier than you had been up in ages, and you were fully prepared to sit in the garden, alone, and bask in the peacefulness. 

To your surprise, however, the increasingly-familiar smell of cigarette smoke and campfire reached you. You turned to the fence, the same place as the day prior, to be greeted by the rugged cowboy, leaning casually against the railing. Tired as you were, you couldn’t keep the smile from lighting up your face. 

“Good morning, Mr. Morgan,” you say, making your way over to him, coffee cradled in both hands. You took a sip, thinking that you may need to start making two cups if this becomes a habit. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon. How’s Jack?”

Arthur’s grin immediately made your stomach flip. “Mornin’, miss,” he responded, tipping his hat to you. He lazilly flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground before leaning against the fence again, his arm above his head, like he had done the day before. “Boah’s doin’ good. Still talkin’ ‘bout you.” His grin never left his face as he looked at you. 

You cleared your throat and maintained eye contact even though you were sure you could feel the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Well, ain’t he a sweetheart?” you tease, only partially talking about Jack.

He chuckled and reached into his bag, mirroring his actions from the day prior. “I been asked to deliver this,” he said, pulling out a string of slightly crumpled red flowers from his bag. They were strung together, tied at the stems, into a long, vibrant necklace. 

You gingerly took the necklace from him with a smile, examining it. Wild yarrow.  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” you respond, pulling it over your head before striking a cheesy pose for the man in front of you. “How do I look?”

God, you could look at his smile all day. “Gorgeous,” he responds, only slightly teasing, and you are suddenly struck with a feeling of giddy embarrassment. It was rare that you got on with someone this well, this quickly. But with Arthur Morgan, despite his rough exterior, you felt strangely comfortable. 

The two of you stood together, talking through the morning sunrise until you were very nearly late for work. When the sun was almost fully above the horizon, you found yourself giggling and dashing into the house, with one last glance to the cowboy at the fence, eyes shining.

And so it went.

For the next week, like clockwork, you would wake, go for your walk, and meet Arthur Morgan at the fence. Gifts, supposedly all from Jack, were exchanged - a nice rock, a beautiful notebook, a seashell, a fountain pen - and you sent your fair share of notes back, including candy for the boy, and a (stolen) flask of good whisky for your postman.

Soon enough, you found yourself gladly waking earlier in the morning - butterflies in your stomach as you made your way outside to greet him. Your mood was better, despite Jack’s farewell only a week ago, and even your colleagues had taken notice.

“What’s got you walking around here all smiles lately?” Anna had asked on the morning before the Mayor’s garden party, as you sat together, adding finishing touches to several large pies that were to go into the oven. 

You scoffed, still unable to wipe the smile from your face, and looked at her over the stack of pans in front of you. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you responded. “Now don’t distract yourself with me, we need to get this all ready to take this afternoon.” Your chiding didn’t deter her, as she continued pestering you the rest of the day.

Her teasing had very little effect on your mood, however, despite the large amount of work ahead of you. And, so, the day passed quickly, in anticipation of the coming evening. It was well known throughout San Denis that Angelo Bronte had one of the best chef’s in town under his employ, so the household staff was asked to provide a portion of the catering. It was a massive, and time consuming project, but it was well worth the work. 

You finally had the opportunity to get out of the house, even if it were for just an evening, which would be an incredible change of pace. Almost before you could even gather your bearings, you were slipping into your best uniform, and were on your way to the even larger home.

You had been to the Mayor’s home a handful of times, but it still left you in awe. If you had thought that Angelo Bronte lived in the lap of luxury, but this home was somehow even more opulent. Marble pillars, statues lining the hallways, mahogany floors, golden chandeliers, art on every wall. You had to make a conscious effort to not allow your jaw to drop as you walked through the hallways to the kitchen. There was no time to dawdle, guests would be arriving shortly.

With an unintentional grunt, you hoisted the box of chopped vegetables you were carrying onto a table, and got to work helping Giovanni finish up a large pot of étouffée. It took some time, but after some significant effort from yourself, Giovanni, and Anna, as well as plenty of help from the Mayor’s own servants, the food was served and guests were mingling in the garden.

You leaned carefully against a counter and wiped sweat from your brow. Cooking for upwards of 100 people was exhausting, not to mention that the kitchen was absolutely scalding. You could use a large glass of water and a breath of fresh air.

Nodding at your colleagues, you told them as much before stepping into the hallway and taking a deep breath of the cooler air. If you were lucky, no one would be on the upstairs balcony, and you could head out and watch the fireworks for a few minutes. As you made your way to the back staircase, hoping that the balcony would be empty, you spotted a flash of a black tuxedo and familiar light brown hair in front of you.

Arthur Morgan. Now what was he doing here?

With a smirk, you carefully followed him up the stairs, catching a further glimpse of him as he entered the first door on the second floor. You hadn’t been up here before, but with the way he was walking, you could be sure that he wasn’t sneaking off to the toilet.

Glancing around, you saw no one else in the hallway. 

Good. 

Slowly, carefully, you pushed open the door to what appeared to be an office. And there, in all his glory, was Arthur Morgan, rummaging through the Mayor’s desk. As you snuck in and quietly closed the door behind you, he slipped a small stack of papers into his tuxedo jacket. 

You took a moment to look over him. Damn, he cleaned up well. A recent haircut, clean shaven, and a brand new tuxedo made him look like an entirely new man. Not that you had any problem with the bearded, dirt-covered version of him that had been meeting you all week.

“You ain’t supposed to be here,” you said quietly, startling him. He turned to you, wide-eyed, his hand instinctively flying to where his pistol was usually holstered. He was red in the face, adrenaline pumping, and you had to admit that it was a very good decision to not allow weapons at this party.

Upon seeing you, however, he noticeably relaxed. Face still red, he glanced quickly around the room before moving toward you, a predator stalking its prey. “Could say the same to you,” he whispered, voice low, as he backed you slowly toward the door.

That familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach rose again as he neared, but you held your chin high in defiance - and then you did something even you didn’t quite expect. You kissed him.

Lunged would be a more accurate description. You closed the distance between the two of you in a second, lips crashing with his. You had only known him for a week, but somehow it felt like you had been wanting to do this your entire life. 

After a moment of shock, he returned the kiss, lips frantically moving with yours as he wrapped his hands around your body. He was warm and strong, and smelled of campfire and cologne and you wanted to get lost in him. You wanted to lose yourself with him. Reaching up, you ran your fingers through his hair until you reached the base of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

He moved with you, slowly, steps matching yours, until your back was flush against the door. For only a moment, he pulled away. You heard the light click of a key and he was on you again, hands fluttering over your hips as he began to work his lips down your jawline. You had to swallow the moan threatening to spill from your lips as you pulled him impossibly closer, fingers toying with the ends of his hair. Then you pulled.

He leaned back with a guttural groan, following your hands as you gently pulled at the hairs on the nape of his neck. His cheeks were flushed, hair mussed, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. You couldn’t help yourself as you pulled him back to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and crashing your lips to his.

The taste of him, the feel of him, it was overwhelming and you wished you could be surrounded by him like this for the rest of your life. Silently, lips still on yours, he turned the two of you so that your back was against the nearby bookshelf. You lifted a leg and wrapped it around his, grinding into him without breaking your kiss. 

Before you knew what was happening, his hands moved from your hips to pull up the skirt of your dress and finger the waistband of your bloomers. A nip at the bottom of your lip brought out a groan from you as he slowly made his way into your underclothes, exploring until he found your core. 

Gently, he toyed with your lower lips, ghosting his fingers along the outside teasingly. If you were in any other state of mind, you would have been embarrassed about the way your hips began moving - wantonly, desperately, trying to maneuver his exploratory fingers exactly where you wanted them.

But Arthur Morgan was apparently not feeling cooperative. He pulled away from your kiss and brought his hand out of your bloomers at the same time, leading you to throw your head back against the bookshelf with a desperate groan.

The twinkle in his eyes matched the mischievous smirk on his face as he looked down at you, your breathing heavy, cheeks flushed. The cocky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying this. This torment.

 With a sudden burst of courage that you didn’t know you had in you, you found yourself pushing him backward. Hands on his chest, you led him roughly to the mayor’s desk, and lunged. Lips crashed once again with his, the taste of whisky and tobacco overwhelming you once again. Your fingers toyed with his tuxedo jacket before slipping underneath and sliding it from his shoulders.

As good as he looked in this outfit, he was far too clothed for your taste.

Next came his vest, unbuttoned with help from him as you both lost your patience. You peeled his suspenders off until they hung loosely at his sides, and finally all that stood between you and his bare chest was his shirt. He yanked it roughly from his pants, the two of you unbuttoning it as quickly as your shaking fingers allowed, and flung it across the room before leaning in for another desperate kiss. 

As his lips met yours once again, you felt him push you back toward the bookshelf as he untied your apron to pull it over your head. Next, his fingers unbuttoned the high collar of your dress, quickly followed quickly by his lips as he placed kisses and nips on your flushed skin. He trailed ever downward - to your collarbone, to your cleavage - drawing moans from your parted lips.

Desperately, you reached for his face and pulled him back up to you, caressing the smooth shaven skin as you kissed. Once satisfied, your hands wandered downward, toying with the hair splayed across the hot, hard panes of his chest. Slowly, teasingly, you followed the path of his hair with your fingers until you reached the top of his pants, and his breath hitched in your mouth. 

Your kiss slowed and turned into a peck as you undid the button and pushed his pants down, revealing muscular thighs framing a growing bulge hidden under his underclothes.  Pushing down the thin cotton finally revealed his swollen member, which you took gently into your hand as you pulled him in for another heated kiss.

He groaned into your mouth, growing impossibly harder with each stroke, until he pulled away to look you into the eye. His face was flushed, his hair in shambles, and you swore you had never seen anything so beautiful in your entire life. You nodded, and allowed him to hoist up your skirt and slide into you through the slit in your bloomers.

In unison, groans left both of your mouths. You were balanced precariously on a bookshelf, your leg wrapped around his waist as he sank into you, head thrown back in pleasure. Once he gathered his bearings, he slowly, torturously slowly, began to move. 

He thrust in and out, in and out, his face buried into your shoulder. Each thrust was paired with a small grunt and a gasp from you. You reveled in the feeling, the warmth, the intensity. 

His hands gripped your hips through the fabric of your dress, pulling you closer to him with each thrust. You wrapped your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him up to you. Your lips met, tongues entangled as tiny gasps swelled up from your throat. It was all you could do to keep in the loud moan that was threatening to spill from your lips.

With each thrust, the bookshelves shook, sending a few trinkets to the carpeted floor with a light thump. You should be more careful. The thought echoed in your mind for only a second before it was whisked away by another thrust that shook you to the core. 

As he grew closer and closer to completion, his thrusts became faster, more frantic, and you found yourself clutching the edges of the shelf for balance. 

Finally, he pulled one of his hands from your hip and wormed it between your bodies to find the place where he had teased you so well before. And then he pressed. And rubbed. And stroked. And finally, in a glaring flash of white before your eyes, you found yourself biting down on his shoulder to keep from screaming his name. Your body shook, your breathing came in harsh gasps, until you could finally open your eyes.

Not a second later, Arthur took a few final thrusts and pulled out of you, stroking his member once, twice, and then spilling himself on the floor with a series of loud gasps. A shaky breath followed as he fell onto you, his head balancing on your chest to catch his breath.

Finally, there was silence, only broken occasionally by a heaving breath. The two of you huddled together against the bookshelves, clinging to each other until you could regain your balance.

You found yourself leaning hard against the shelf behind you, running your fingers through Arthur’s mussed hair. “Those last few gifts… the journal, the pen… those weren’t from Jack, were they?” you asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

A low chuckle came from Arthur, still bent forward with his head balanced on your chest. “I s’pose I’ve been caught again…”

--

The party ended with a spectacular fireworks show, which you and Arthur watched together, now fully clothed and hidden from sight on the empty balcony. Shortly after the last firework had lit up the night sky, he left you with a lingering kiss that you swore you felt on your lips for the rest of the evening.

To say your head was in the clouds would have been putting it lightly. You would have never expected such a rough, dirty man to be your knight in shining armor, but here you were. 

Your good mood carried over through the party cleanup, into the night, and even on into the morning during your daily walk. Glancing at the gate where he usually stood, you were slightly disheartened to see his spot empty. Your smile faltered for just a moment, before you reasoned with yourself. He was probably just tired, or hungover, and just because he had showed up every day for the last week and a half did not mean he could keep up that habit forever. 

So, you sat and waited for nearly a half an hour at your normal meeting spot, before heading back inside only slightly disheartened. He had a life outside of meeting you, you reminded yourself, it was unfair to assume he would be there every day when he had never promised this.

Despite your disappointment, your good mood persisted through the day. Through stained laundry, through dusting and mopping, through cleaning a massive pile of cooking dishes from the night before - you couldn’t have wiped the smile off of your face.

And then he didn’t show up again. And again. And again.

For over a week, you missed Arthur’s presence on your morning walks. You found yourself waiting at the fence each day, coffee and the morning paper in hand to pass the time, only to end up disappointed once again. At the very least, there seemed to be a lot of dramatic news to report that week - a trolley station robbery ending with a crashed trolly on main street, a wealthy man on a steamboat robbed for all he was worth - but that information only helped pass the time you spent waiting for him.

Outside of your morning walks, your mood slowly soured. Maybe Arthur had gotten what he wanted. Maybe the dirty, lecherous outlaw’s only goal was to bed you and be on his way. Maybe Jack had forgotten you completely, and with nothing new to deliver, so had Arthur.

You took to writing angrily in the journal he had gotten you, having no other reasonable outlet for your emotions. Originally, you had wanted to toss the damn thing into the fire, but - without someone to vent to, without someone who could understand the depths of your frustration - it seemed like such a waste. Instead, you chose to use the gift for its intended purpose, and wrote down all of your frustrations toward the man who had gifted it to you, before stuffing it underneath your pillow and falling asleep for the night.

There it lay, throughout the day and night until you finally did see Arthur Morgan again. A loud crash, followed by gunshots and yelling in Italian and English from the back gardens, met your ears as you cleaned up after dinner with Anna and Giovanni.

“We’re comin’ for you, Bronte! Send out every man you got!”

The three of you had no guns, and even if you had it sounded less like a gunfight and more like a massacre. Quickly, you locked the doors, hoping that it would be enough to deter the intruders. And then, huddled together out of sight with your friends, you waited.

The back door was kicked open with a gunshot and a loud bang. More gunshots, screams, and crashes echoed through the hallway and into the kitchen. You heard the yells get closer, before the kitchen door was shot and forcefully kicked open. 

This was it, this would be your end.

Only, it wasn’t.

Standing in the doorframe was none other than Arthur Morgan, shotgun in hand, eyes frantic… until he caught sight of you. 

“Comeon,” he said, rushing over to where the three of you were huddled together and pulling you up by the arm. “You three gotta get outta here,” he ordered, gruffly, hurriedly, as he opened one of the larger windows. “We only came from the back, so head to the front and go somewhere safe.”

Giovanni and Anna looked from each other to you, and then to the open window, hesitant. Another volley of gunfire reached your ears from inside the house. There was no time for debate. “Go ahead,” you told them. “We can trust him.” 

That (plus another few rounds of gunfire in quick succession) was all it took. Giovanni nodded to you, grabbed Anna by the forearm, and they were out the window and running across the lawn to safety. You breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to Arthur. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you wanted to ask, but there was no time. 

As if sensing your hesitation, he took you by the shoulders and pulled you in for a hug. “Go,” he said, face buried into your hair. “Get to the Fontana, I’ll meet you there when this is over.” You could have sworn you felt a light kiss atop your head before he pressed a crumpled ten dollar bill into your palm and lightly pushed you in the direction of the open window. “Get outta here.”

You nodded, mouthing a quick “thank you” before climbing through the window. In the distance, you could see Anna and Giovanni, silhouetted against the night sky. They were running as fast as they could, to safety, and you felt a pang in your chest. They had been the closest thing you had had to a family for so long. The three of you had been forced together by fate, and had come out a team. But… where would you end up if you followed them? 

Likely back in the service of another rich man. But, maybe it would be better. Maybe the freedom you found yourself longing for was to be found in the familiar, the known. Could you really abandon your friends, your way of life, for the promise of a man you had known for little more than a few weeks?

Quickly, you glanced in the opposite direction, toward the city. Toward the Fontana. Toward the promise of freedom. The clock was ticking, you needed to decide. Now.

Torn between what was and what could be, you took a deep breath and took the advice of a child who was far too wise for his age. You ran toward the Fontana. You ran as fast as you could to a new life.

The sound of gunfire and screams followed you to the gates, where it then became overwhelmed by the shouts and sirens of incoming police. Luckily, you were able to slip outside of the gate and get partially down the street before they stopped in front of the house.

Bowing your head, you quickly made your way down the cobblestone street and into the city, away from the violence. By the time you reached the Fontana Theater, the gunshots had all but faded into the hustle and bustle of the city center, and you became acutely aware of how much you didn’t belong. It had been years since you had been anywhere outside of Signore Bronte’s mansion other than the grocery and occasional trip to the tailors. It had been even longer since the last time you had been to a Magic Lantern Theater. And you knew, with your hair mussed and maid’s uniform, you must stick out like a sore thumb.

Luckily, if your memory served, the theater should be dark enough that no one would notice. You slowed your pace, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, and proceeded to the ticket counter, purchasing one ticket to the three upcoming shows. That should be more than enough time, you hoped. 

You entered the dimly lit room and practically collapsed into one of the seats. Now that you had managed to escape, now that you were in relative safety, the adrenaline you had felt earlier had completely vanished. You were exhausted. You were confused. You were scared. 

Now, you could only wait, and hope that Arthur would be back for you as promised.

In front of you, the film started with a flicker. The recorded voice of a man telling the story of several forest animals as a series of images were projected onto the screen. The room was silent, except for the recording, and you found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open.

What must have been a few hours later, you were shaken awake by an unfamiliar man. You were startled for only a minute before you realised that he was the same man who had sold you the tickets earlier. “That’s the last showing for the day, miss,” he was saying, quietly, pulling his hand away from your shoulder. “I’m afraid you’ll need to be on your way, now.” 

You blinked and looked around the room, now flooded with light. It was empty except for the two of you. “What… what time is it?” you stammered, voice cracking lightly.

“‘Bout 11:30,” he responded, looking quickly to his pocket watch to confirm. You had been asleep for a solid 4 hours, and Arthur hadn’t yet arrived. “You should get on home.”

Home. Where was that? 

You stood, nodding abashedly at the man. “Thank you,” you murmured before making your way out of the theater and into the dark streets. 

It was quiet, the same kind of quiet you had grown so used to on your morning walks. However, instead of finding it calm and refreshing, you found yourself longing for the noisy streets. The hustle and bustle of San Denis that would overpower your thoughts, that would drown out your anxieties. 

Instead, you were alone, left to mull over your current situation on the steps of the theater. The long, dark tendrils of doubt crept into your mind as you waited. Did you make the right choice? Did Arthur abandon you? Was all of this some horrible trick? Tears spilled silently from your eyes as you waited. Exhausted. Frustrated. Sad. The only thing to break you out of your thought spiral was the occasional drunk would wander by, heading home for the evening.

Eventually, the ground where you sat grew cold, and you found yourself falling asleep against the wall of the theater, huddled up like an abandoned animal. You could sleep here tonight, in case he did show up, and head … somewhere … in the morning. A hotel, maybe? A workhouse? You didn’t know where, but that was a thought for the morning.

It was only when the steady clip-clop clip-clop of horse hooves made their way down the dark street that you willed yourself to look up. Coming slowly into view through the darkness was a lone rider on a horse. He looked exhausted, frustrated, as he stopped his horse in front of the theater and dismounted, glancing around the area until he spotted you.

You stood on legs that were strangely both stiff and shaky and made your way over to him, where he pulled you into a tight hug. 

“‘M sorry,” he mumbled, once again burying his face in your hair. “Didn’t mean to leave you so long.” You nodded against his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt as tears of relief threatened to spill. “Let’s get you home.”

--

The ride went by in a blur. Not that you were moving fast, but rather because you were so exhausted that everything was a bit of a haze. You must have arrived at the large, dilapidated mansion early into the morning, before anyone was up to disturb you, because you could not remember the journey into Arthur’s bed for the life of you.

There was no crunch of the grass as you slid off the saddle, no creek of the stairs, no groan of the bed as the two of you lay down together. Nothing. All you could remember was that you were here. You were safe. You were home. 

You awoke around midday, sunlight streaming through the broken windows of a small-rundown room overlooking the swamps of Lemoyne. It was sweltering hot, but you found yourself cuddling closer into the strong arms that were wrapped around you. The scent of the swamps mixed with whisky and tobacco, campfire and gunsmoke, as you nuzzled into his chest.

He was breathing deeply, soundly, as you lifted your head from his chest to look around. The room itself was old and dilapidated, it would barely serve as a shelter during any storms that may strike. In the far corner stood an old shelf, filled with photos and trinkets. Next to it, a small table with a map, and across from that, a larger table, stacked to the brim with weapons and ammunition. 

Arthur’s room. 

You stood, intending to make your way over to examine the trinkets across the room, but were instead gently pulled back to bed by the man behind you. “Mornin’,” he grumbled, not bothering to open his eyes as he held you close.

You acquiesced, leaning back into him and basking in his presence. “Mornin’, Mr. Morgan,” you whispered back to him, gazing over his face. His eyes were still closed, but he couldn’t keep a small smile from forming as you spoke. Gently, you brushed hair away from his forehead and planted a light kiss to the revealed skin. “Thank you.”

He chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look at you. You could have melted in the soft, loving look that came your way. “Nothin’ to thank me for,” he said, reaching up to run his thumb along your cheek in admiration. “Just needed to get you out alive, is all.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I feel like that deserves thanks.”

A scoff came from the man beside you. “Nah, it was all selfish, really,” he explained, his gaze travelling over every inch of your face as if he were committing it to memory. “I just wanted to keep you ‘round.” With that, he planted a quick kiss on your lips and sat up, turning to his satchel that had been tossed to the floor by the bed. “It weren’t pretty last night… ‘n’ I’m glad I got to you before it got worse.”

“What happened?” you asked, watching as he pulled the satchel to him and began to rifle through it.

“Bronte… well he done his best to screw us over,” he explained. “Set some traps for us… ‘n’ Dutch made sure he paid for it.” You figured you knew what he meant, but let him continue anyway. “Bastard’s dead - some poor alligator’s breakfast.” 

To your surprise, you felt incredibly conflicted. The man had essentially kept you hostage for the last few years, but he had at least taken care of you. He had by no means been a good person, but… you had grown some sort of strange affinity for him over the years. And yet, you didn’t find yourself shedding a tear for him. If anything, it was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, like you could finally breathe freely after so long. 

You didn’t know what to say.

“I did manage to get hold of these, though,” he said, pulling several items from his satchel. You gasped when you saw them, and felt the tears that wouldn’t fall for Bronte begin to well up. In Arthur’s hands were a child’s drawing, a flower crown, a very special rock, a beautiful journal, and a fountain pen. 

Now, the tears did fall as you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you, Arthur,” you said, burying your face into his neck. “Thank you so incredibly much.”

With a small chuckle, he set the momentos down on his lap, and wrapped his arms around you as well. “‘Course.”

The two of you stayed like that, reveling in each other’s embrace, for a few perfect, blissful minutes. So this is what it felt like to be wanted. This is what it felt like to have someone really, truly care about you. This is the feeling you had been waiting for for so long.

It wasn’t a minute later before there was a tentative knock on your door, and Arthur pulled himself away from the hug. “I think someone might be excited to see you,” he said, nodding toward the door.

You looked over, calling for the visitor to come in. As the door swung open, you were greeted with the sound of your name excitedly being called, and the sight of a child, red with excitement, standing in the doorway. Jack. “You’re here! You’re really here!” he exclaimed, darting over to you and jumping into your arms. He was followed by a smiling, dark-haired woman, and a man who you recognised as John. “I knew it! I knew you would come live with us!” 

“Of course, Jack,” you childed, squeezing him tight. “I could never leave you.”

He squeezed you back, before pulling away and grabbing your forearm to lead you out of the room. “Come on!” he said, leading you forward. “You have to meet the rest of our family!”