#i wanted to ask him a dark materials question when I met him but he couldn't say anything because of the strike 😭

[tragicotps]

Have you read The Secret Commonwealth yet? (x)

[tuiccim]

Pickup Game

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3509

Warnings: Flirt, Fluff, Smut, Oral (f rec)

Summary: An after party game of pickup lines leads to a confession and an even more fun night in bed.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

The after party of just Avengers and close friends was in full swing. Drinks and laughter flowed as you enjoyed each other's company.

“Okay, okay. Your best pick up line! Let’s have ‘em!” Clint yells over the most recent spate of laughter. “Tony, whatcha got?”

Tony smirks before opening his arms wide and declaring, “I am Iron Man.” He grins as everyone heckles him, “What can I say? Works every time!”

“Really?” Pepper raises an eyebrow.

“Used to! Used to work,” Tony backpedals. “Rhodey, save me here, buddy!”

“Okay, okay,” Rhodey laughs as he glances at Natasha who is standing by him and tugs at his sleeve, “Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

"Nice," Natasha scoffs.

"Let's hear yours then!" Rhodey huffs.

"Ever had a White Russian?" Natasha asks, holding up her glass.

"No," Rhodey looks at her suspiciously.

"Want to?" She says seductively. 

Rhodey chuckles, "Smooth. Okay, Clint, what've you got?"

Clint bats his eyes at Sam, standing next to him and says, "Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes, big boy?"

Sam laughs while rolling his eyes, "So, what you guys are telling me is that you have no game?"

"Give us your best then, Rocket Man!"

"You know, dating is a numbers game. So, can I have yours?" Sam grins.

"Boooring!" Tony heckles. "Steve, what's your favorite?"

"I've never been good with pickup lines. That was more Bucky's territory," Steve tilts his head towards the dark-haired super soldier. 

"Thanks," Bucky says sarcastically,  "I'm a little out of practice with pickup lines."

"Aw, come on, Buck, give it a shot," you pipe in and then try to hide your embarrassment at having drawn attention to yourself. Even though you hoped he'd test out the line on you. Your attraction to the man was undeniable and you'd harbored a crush since you'd met him. You leaned back against the wall with your hands behind your back and raised your eyebrow in challenge to him. 

Bucky's face betrayed a moment of discomfiture before he straightened his shoulders and stepped over to you. He placed a hand on the wall above you, leaning in with a small smirk, "If I told you you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

You could hear some chuckling and comments in the background but it faded as you stared up at Bucky. God, he was fine as hell and you were doing your best to control your erratic heartbeat.

"Sorry, doll, that wasn't very good, huh?"

You don't know where the gall came from but, before you realized what you were doing the words slipped out of your mouth. "Don't worry, Buck, I'm not big on being picked up. I prefer to be pinned down." Your eyebrow raised as you said the words and you smirked, bringing your glass to your lips for a sip. 

Bucky's jaw drops as the room erupts in laughter and cheers. Tony crows, "She wins!" 

Clint laughs heartily as he agrees, "Hands down!"

After a few moments, you reach up and close Bucky's mouth, “And to answer your questions, yes, I would,” you whisper with a wink as you walk away. 

A little while later, the party was winding down and you decided it was time to slip out. Your nerves were getting the better of you. Thoughts ran amuck as to what Bucky thought of you and whether the attraction you felt was reciprocated. He’d been in a conversation with some of the guys since the game ended and you hoped to catch a glimpse, some sign of mutual interest but now you were walking away with your tail between your legs. God, what must he think of you and that brazen comment. 

Hitting the button for the elevator, you berate yourself for thinking you ever stood a chance. Your head snapped up when a deep voice whispered, “You know, you have a beautiful body.”

Grinning, you turn and press yourself against Bucky, “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Bucky smirks at you. Without warning, he stoops and picks you up as if you weigh nothing. 

“Bucky!” You squeal as the elevator doors open. 

He carries you in, hitting the button for his floor with his elbow, “Don’t worry, doll. I know you aren’t big on being picked up but I’ll have you pinned down soon enough.”

You raise your eyebrow at him, “It was just a line, Buck.”

His confidence falters for a second, “Oh, uh-”

“Don’t worry, baby. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” you smirk.

“Oh, you’re naughty,” Bucky laughs.

“I prefer ‘playful’.”

“I like playful,” Bucky adjusts you in his arms so that your back is pressed to the elevator wall and your faces are at the same level. 

You use the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and look at him expectantly. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. 

You’re surprised by the request after the way he’d handled you. It warmed your heart that he would seek your consent and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, “Please.”

The kiss is intense. He presses into you as his lips move over yours. His tongue slips out seeking entry and you oblige him immediately. You separate only when the elevator dings your arrival. He lowers your legs gently and takes your hand. Leading you down the hallway, Bucky says awkwardly, “I, uh, was kind of surprised when you, um, said that tonight.” 

“What? The pickup line?” You tilt your head as you look at him. 

“No, the… thing you whispered afterwards.”

“Really, why?” You thought your feelings for him were fairly obvious. 

“I mean, I’m a mess and you’re so put together. I just,” he shrugs, “kinda thought you were out of my league, ya know.”

“No,” you laugh, “no, I don’t know. I have never thought of myself as put together.  Thanks for that but I’m kind of a mess, too. I think we all are in our own ways.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Bucky smiles as he opens his door and guides you in. 

You suddenly feel awkward as you walk inside the room. The passion displayed in the elevator had mellowed as you walked and talked together into a camaraderie. You were unsure how to get back to it. 

“Would you like a drink?” Bucky asks as he comes up behind you, his lips brushing your neck and his hands caress your hips. You jump a little at the unexpected contact. 

“I think I had enough earlier,” you breathe, heat pooling between your legs. 

“I haven’t had enough, I haven’t had nearly enough. I need another taste,” Bucky says as he turns you around to capture your mouth. You oblige him willingly, snaking your arms around his neck as you arch into him. 

Abandoning any reserve you would normally have, you reach for the buttons on his shirt. He reaches for the zipper of your dress but his hands still. You pull back to look at him curiously. 

“You’re sure?” He asks. 

You smile and pull the tails of his shirt from his pants while saying, “Barnes, if you don’t get me naked and pin me down, I will never forgive you.”

He pulls you against him forcefully, grinning as he pulls down your zipper, “We can’t have that.”

Clothes are discarded quickly as he backs you to the bed. Bucky slides his hands into your panties to grab your ass and you gasp when he picks you up. Laying you on the bed he pulls your panties off. You expect him to follow you down but instead his eyes take a slow path up your body. Propping yourself on your elbows, you resist the urge to cover yourself but tremble as he studies you. He smiles, grabs a discarded t-shirt, and rips the bottom half from it. Your eyebrow raises at the display. 

“And what do you plan to do with that, Sgt. Barnes?”

His smirk as he advances has butterflies dancing in your stomach. He grabs your arms, twists the shirt around your wrists, and hauls them above your head as he pins you to the bed. 

“Happy now?” Bucky rumbles as he kisses your neck. 

“Almost. I’d like these off,” you use your legs to pull at the underwear he still has on, “and an orgasm or two would be nice.” 

Holy shit, you don’t know where this confidence had come from. Maybe because Bucky wanted you. Maybe because of whatever drink that was that Natasha had handed you. Whatever it was, you were enjoying the results. 

“Only one or two?” Bucky teases as he nibbles along your clavicle. “I bet I can do better.”

“Is that so?” You gasp as his tongue plays over your nipple. 

“Mm-hm,” he murmurs before plucking at your other nipple with his lips. He lets go of your hands that are still bound above your head as he slides his tongue down your stomach. Your breathing picks up when he reaches your navel and proceeds to kiss his way down to your mound. Your eyes screw shut to take in every sensation. When he spreads your legs further apart, you feel the contrast of warm skin and cool metal on your thighs. Anticipation builds, making you lick your lips and you can’t help the whimper that slips out when you feel a gentle finger trace your slit. 

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers reverently before his tongue follows the same path as his fingers. His metal arm curls around your leg and he rests his hand on your abdomen, effectively holding you in place as he explores your folds. It was almost unbearable, the way his tongue slid around to touch everywhere but where you needed him most. 

“Bucky, please,” you whimper desperately. 

His chuckle rumbles against your core. His fingers replace his tongue, taking the same lazy path. “Poor baby, am I not giving you what you want?” His finger tip barely grazes your clit and you whine. “Are you feeling needy?” His finger circles your entrance and his tongue gives the softest lick to your clit. Your hips flex, desperate for more friction, making Bucky press his metal hand more firmly against you. “I like seeing you like this.” Another small lick to your clit. “Wet, under me, and so desperate.”

“Bucky, pleeeaase,” you can’t keep the whine out of your voice. You don’t think you’ve ever been quite so turned on and the teasing was making you a writhing mess. 

“Say please again and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Please!” the word rushes out of you. His fingers and tongue driving you mad. 

His tongue moves slowly, lapping back and forth over your clit while his finger still teases. It’s maddeningly delicious but not enough at the same time. He holds your hips hostage, not allowing you to move. You mewl with each motion of his tongue over you, your body on fire and screaming for just a little more until your mouth opens to plead, “More! Oh, god, I need more!”

Bucky lifts his head, a devilish smirk across his mouth, “Oh, precious, you didn’t say please. We’ll have to start all over again now.” His finger goes back to tracing the slow path over your cunt. 

“What?” You gape at him as he plays with you. 

“You didn’t say please, doll,” Bucky repeats, allowing his lips to brush over your thigh, far too far from where you wanted his lips. 

You felt like crying. You felt like screaming. You felt like ripping off your bindings, flipping him over, and riding his face until you came all over it. Unfortunately, you knew you’d never overpower him and, if you were really honest with yourself, this little game he was playing was hot as fuck. You’d never been treated like this and he had made you a gushing mess. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky. Please, please, I need more,” you whimper at him with doe eyes, hoping for a reprieve. 

“You need more, precious?” Bucky’s finger grazes lightly over your clit. 

“Oh, please!” Your hips try to buck against his hold but he merely chuckles as he holds you in place easily. His finger circles your clit slowly as his tongue takes a meandering path up your thigh.

“Please, baby, please!” You whine as he makes his way back to your apex and are rewarded when his tongue takes the place of his finger. His motions are still slow and deliberate while his finger brushes over your entrance again causing you to clench around nothing. Desperate for more, you start to say the one word you know will earn you some relief, “Plea- OOH!!!-” In the middle of your plea, his finger had entered you and he sucked on your clit suddenly. “Yes, fuck, please, please, please…,” the word became your only mantra as he fucked you with fingers and tongue. Your legs began to shake and then he curled his fingers into that perfect spot, making bright white flash before your eyes and a scream rend from your throat. You came hard, your muscles clenching. Your legs try to close but Bucky’s broad shoulders between them keep you open to him. He laps at you through the aftershocks.  

“Fuck, I could stay here for days,” Bucky groaned. His fingers curled slowly as his tongue made gentle licks.

You gasped and moaned, words and thoughts hard to come by in the haze. “Bucky,” you finally manage to whisper his name as if it was the sweetest endearment. 

“I know. I know, doll. Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” his mouth nuzzled you as he said the words. Flicks of his tongue came closer together, “I need another one from you, precious. Gotta hear you make those sweet sounds again.” 

“Bucky, oh, fuck. Please, it’s so good,” you gasp the words out, nearly overstimulated and yet still desperate for his touch. 

“You know how hard I am hearing you say that?” Bucky groans against your clit, vibrations coursing through you. His tongue begins moving faster, making swift circles. 

“I… I- fuck. Please,” you stutter, unable to form sentences anymore. Bucky’s fingers curl more firmly into that spongy spot inside and your back tries to arch despite his arm holding you firmly in place. He was moving his tongue as if his sole purpose in life was to make you fly into a million pieces. You were a whimpering mess, unable to form words and so close to the edge again. When he growled against you again, your eyes flew open and you looked down your body at him. His cobalt eyes met yours and the intensity in his gaze was a hit straight to your core. Your muscles began to spasm as you watched him, so focused on your pleasure and aroused by your responses. Your scream is stifled by the overwhelming intensity of the orgasm that rips through you. Your hands flex around the bonds that hold them in place. 

As Bucky kisses his way back up your body, you manage to come back to yourself… mostly. You wanted to touch him, to hold him against you, to run your hands over his body. You attempt to untwist your hands from the scrap of t-shirt but the deceptively loose looking knot doesn’t budge. 

“Bucky, baby, please can you untie me?” You whisper. 

Bucky had paused at your breasts to show them some attention. They were deserving of the most reverent of worship in his mind. His tongue traced your nipple before he spoke, “Why? I’ve got you tied up, pinned down, and perfectly on display for me.”

“I want to touch you, please,” you gasp as he takes your nipple into his mouth to gently suckle. 

“Hmm,” he muses as he makes his way to your other breast, giving it the same loving attention. “If you’ll answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you sigh, enjoying each motion of his mouth over you. You feel the rumble of his chuckle at your quick response.

“How long?” He asks. 

You slide your leg to brush against his cock, still covered by his boxer briefs before saying cheekily, “I didn’t bring a measuring tape with me but I’d say more than adequate.”

Bucky lets out a small moan at the contact and then chuckles, “Not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, baby?”

“How long did I waste not having you in my bed?” Bucky asks as he brings his face level to yours. 

“You mean, how long have I wanted you or are you asking how long I’ve liked you?”

“Both,” Bucky narrows his eyes but gives you a small smile. 

“If I’m really honest, I’ve always wanted you. You’re kinda hot, ya know?” You smile and bite your lip. 

“And the other?” Bucky asks, flexing his hips into you so that his hard cock nestles between your legs. 

You gasp and arch into him, “About five minutes after meeting you.”

“Seriously, when?” Bucky scoffs gently. 

“You were so sweet and a little self-conscious and I just adored you,” you nudged his nose with yours, encouraging his lips to find yours. He kissed you, long and lovingly, while he released your hands. You both seemed to settle into each other as your hands explored, finally free. The heat began to return, hips flexing into each other, craving the friction, but before things got too carried away, you cradled Bucky’s face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “How long?” You repeat his question. 

“Always,” he whispers passionately before taking your mouth again. 

It was all you needed. You reached for the band of his underwear, wanting nothing left to separate you. You managed to get the offending garment off of him and circle his cock with your hand. He takes a sharp intake of breath and then groans. Definitely more than adequate, you think to yourself. 

“Doll,” Bucky presses his forehead to yours, “I need to be inside you.”

“Oh, precious, you didn’t say please,” you tease him, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick. Your core aches to be filled but you can’t resist the chance to tease him just a bit as he’d done to you earlier. 

Bucky chuckles, “Knew I should have kept you tied up.”

You rub the head of his cock over your clit and whimper loudly in his ear, “I still haven’t heard it.” You pump him in your hand but still won’t let him slip into you despite his attempts to maneuver his hips. 

“Fuuuuck, please!” Buchy growls, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

You waste no time lining him up with your entrance. He presses in a few agonizingly slow inches before grabbing your hands and hauling them above your head. He stares into you as he growls out, “I should pin you down,” he sinks in a little more, “and tease you mercilessly.” His hips slide slowly forward until he’s fully seated inside of you. “But I don’t think either of us would survive it right now.” He slides out a couple of inches before snapping his hips forward, taking your breath away. He sets a slow but driving pace, staring into your eyes as he fucks you. His hands slide down to hold your face and he kisses you fiercely, his thrusts coming a little faster as he does. You wrap your arms around his chest, pulling him to you, sliding one down to grab onto his ass. You encourage every movement, the drag of his cock tipping you closer to the precipice. 

He buries his face in your neck, whispering praises and encouragement, “Shit, you’re squeezing me so tight, doll.”

“Bucky, fuck, I’m gonna-,” your breath catches as you fall over the edge. Your body sings as you come, trembling and moaning with each wave. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, doll. So fucking pretty,” Bucky grits out as you clench around him. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts for him to lose himself inside you. His hips flex with each aftershock that hits him. 

Rolling to his side, Bucky pulls you against him. You nuzzle his chest as you both catch your breath. Despite the lethargy settling over both of you, Bucky's hands wander continuously over your skin and you bask in the attention. 

“You'll stay, won't you?” Bucky whispers.

“I don't know,” you say sleepily, “Do you hog the covers?”

Bucky chuckles, “I'm pretty good at sharing.”

“Mmm, then I'll stay,” you yawn and a little giggle escapes you.

“What?” Bucky smiles at your mirth-filled eyes. 

“That's the first time a cheesy pick up line ever worked on me,” you giggle again.

“I'll have to come up with some others. See if I get lucky again,” Bucky laughs as he kisses the top of your head.

“I'd say your chances are pretty good,” you smirk at him, “But maybe next time, I should be the one to pin you down.”

“Only if you say please, doll.”

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Updates for series will be made on Sundays Central Time Zone. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

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[silkscream]

pure smile snake venom

ੈ✩ suguru geto x reader

ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, dom!suguru, emotional manipulation, fingering, dubcon, blood, yandere behavior, edging, multiple orgasms, choking, loss of virginity, religious imagery

ੈ✩ wc: 5.1k

ੈ✩ a/n: oooo i am soo normal about cult leader suguru. art by @/wonowono__3 on twitter

He finds you unconscious. 

He feels you before he sees you – your cursed energy permeates the air with dread. He can feel it in his throat, as if the hand of his past self materialized to strangle him, reminding him of desperation. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, not anymore.

It also felt like death. 

When he finds you, your body would have easily been looked over, small as you were compared to the vastness of the forest around you. Insignificant, left to rot. 

When he’d looked at your face, there was recognition in his chest despite not seeing you before. He hadn’t been drawn to anyone in a while. He barely had anyone that wasn’t at arm's length to him, even his closest devouts, yet something about the delicateness of your face enticed him. A predator finding lost prey.

He finds it mildly sacrilegious to touch you when you’re in this state, but your shirt was saturated with so much blood that it took him a bit to realize that the color of the fabric was supposed to be white and not merlot-red. He lifts your shirt, grimacing at its dampness, and finds a wound that looks fatal. 

He looks at it and feels the residuals of a nasty curse. By the time he tracks it down, he tortures it with all of the energy inside of him. 

__

You wake up on a futon you don’t recognize. You don’t remember a thing. 

You wince as you attempt to rise, clutching your side. You’re topless, clothed only by gauze covering your chest and ribs. 

You exhale, closing your eyes. In the darkness behind your eyelids, you see a face with a vacant smile. You are met with that very smile when you open your eyes again.

“Welcome back.”

You blink. He must be the stranger that saved you from — well, what did he save you from? You were used to spirits, took years to adjust to that fact, and have even killed a few yourself. But when you feel the pain in your side, nothing comes to mind.

“You… saved me?”

“I suppose so. It was pure luck that I happened to stumble upon you.”

“Where — where am I?”

He tells you it’s his temple, then he tells you his name. When he asks for yours, you’re reluctant. Eventually, you tell him. If he was luring you into his trap, you suppose you had fallen into it against your will by pure chance. It was probably better than bleeding out in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you have anyone who will miss you?” 

You don’t say anything. You think of the dingy studio apartment you’ve been subletting for a few months. You try to conjure up a narrative of belonging in your head that would give you any reason for you to leave. Nothing comes.

You shake your head.

__

Geto Suguru is the first person to tell you that you’re magic.

You knew that, in some way, ever since you were a child. Your intuition made you a strange child, always slightly cryptic with a sense of maturity that made you seem like a vessel for a sad ghost. Your visions would only get stronger – small bursts of light whiplashing through your mind into images, rapid like a supercut. The things you saw would come true. 

This is what makes you a good weapon. Ironically, you had always thought of yourself as weak. 

He was captivating the way a cult leader should be, and you had fallen under his spell. It was his robes and the regal way he carried himself, maybe. You don’t think he’s bad — he’s made you important, and you’ve never felt wanted before. You were a recluse before Suguru found you. Barely the shape of anything, so he found it appropriate to mold you into something to call his.

Suguru doesn’t tell you much. You know that he probably lies to you.

He holds too much power for you to question it. His cursed technique is daunting and his grace is enviable, but he’s mostly kind. You help him when he finds curses, usually the more powerful ones that could threaten him. Able to see into the near future, you can sense their next move each time. It makes it easy to subdue them to Suguru’s advantage.

You also find that he is regarded as something of a saint to non-sorcerers. Something twists in your gut when you watch his exorcisms, seeing the immediate relief in the faces of his followers. They look at him with so much adoration that it makes you self-conscious that you share the same disposition.

He tells you you’re his favorite and the feeling dissipates.

You like how ritualistic living in the temple is. Breakfast at the same time each day. Tea in the garden. Rolling in the gross with bruised knuckles.

You take a liking to his girls. They remind you of yourself, but they lack the meekness you had as a teenager. The twins adore you almost as much as they adore Suguru. They are endlessly fickle, as most teenage girls are, but their devotion is worn candidly in the way they carry themselves. You wonder how they can be so obedient, but you realize that they have known nothing else. 

It’s a quiet luxury. You like to pretend that you’re some sort of priestess, sometimes. You had never been as reverent as your mother, but you think that there is peace in serving a God.  If not Suguru, then some higher power must’ve granted you another chance at life, even if your new life meant mundane piety. 

You liked routine – it fit you. You did your part in the temple and Suguru would reward you with gentle praises. You were only one of few sorcerers in his current entourage, so you felt special. 

Despite this, something felt messing. You often wish Suguru could cast out the malaise inside of you, but you’ve carried it in the pit of yourself for as long as you could remember. Even in your pious bliss, you start wondering if the curse that nearly killed you left a part of itself within you. Each day is the same until you wear thin.

When the string finally breaks, you find him with blood on his hands in the temple’s omoya.

It’s not the blood of a curse, either. It’s dark crimson, such as the same blood that is inside of you, and on the tatami mat lies the lifeless body of a servant. 

Shin, his name was. He wasn’t much younger than you, but he had the spirit of a boy, always able to make you laugh before he served you breakfast. He had arrived only a few months after you had, citing suicidal ideation as a catalyst to seeking Suguru’s services. Once treated, he had felt larger than life. 

And now, his face is frozen in time – the look of sheer fear. 

“Useless monkey,” Suguru tuts, wiping the blood off his face. You’ve seen that look on his face before — when he’s cruel and callous in battle. When he snaps the neck of a special grade curse before he eats it. 

You run to the bathroom to vomit.

When you emerge, one of the twins looks at you curiously. Mimiko. She smiles at you serenely, her eyes flickering with taunt. 

“Is everything alright, Y/N-san?”

“Y-yes,” you nod. “Just a bit under the weather.”

“Are you feeling sick?” Her eyes light up for a second. “Oh, could you be pregnant? Nanako and I really wish there was another kid around—“

“No, no, I’m not pregnant,” you cut her off, shocked. Did she think you and Suguru were… together? Did she think you were his concubine?

“Ah. I can get the servants to prepare some ginger tea for you.”

“No need, Mimiko,” you shake your head, smiling sheepishly. “I just… need to get some air.”

She leaves you alone as you walk towards the pagoda. You feel another wave of nausea when you remember Shin’s lifeless eyes. The blood on his throat. 

You stare at the sunset. It’s been a long time since you’ve left the temple of your own volition. Suguru keeps a tight leash on you nowadays, blaming the unpredictability of your power. Bitterly, you realize that you’re only ever in town alongside him. 

Sometimes, you miss being a stray.

His presence is immediate. When you turn, his long hair sways in the breeze as he flashes you a cat-like smile. 

“Thought you were trying to run away from me,” he murmurs, walking towards you. “But you’d never do that, would you?”

“Just… enjoying the view.”

He looks at you, amused. It feels belittling. 

“I apologize. I thought Nanako had locked the door.”

Your blood stills. He saw you.  

“I thought you only killed curses,” you stammer. For the first time, his presence makes you feel unsafe. 

“I never said that, sweet girl,” he chuckles. He plays with a loose strand of your hair. “Humans are beneath us, you know that. Humans are the reason curses are created. Curses just like the one that nearly killed you.”

You don’t have it in you to protest. He’s gotten closer to you now. A hand on your waist. His lips kissing your hairline in a way that makes you feel like a child again.

“I— I liked him,” you stutter. 

“Mm,” he hums. “He liked you, too. A bit too much if you ask me.”

You stay silent. Only the sound of cicadas fill the air. 

“It’s not your fault,” he grins. “You charm anyone you meet by default, you know. But sometimes, these followers… they want to threaten our mission. Sometimes, they’re paid off by sorcerers who are targeting me to gather intel. And darling, when there’s a target on my back, there’s a target on yours.”

You pull away from him with wide eyes. His face is neutral. So naive, you are. He was only doing you a favor, but a sheltered girl like you trusts too easily. 

“Just remember. I will be the only one to protect you.”

__

He finds you in the garden.

You’re surrounded by wildflowers, your yukata loose enough on you that it falls off your shoulder when you sit up to greet him. The sight of your bare skin tokes the fire in his stomach. He’s dressed more casually tonight, in a plain kimono as opposed to his usual gojo-gesa.

“Enjoying the fireflies?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He notices the dark circles under your eyes. Your smile is tired now. You stare blankly as if you’re in a trance. 

“You’ve been a bit off lately,” he muses. “Something on your mind?”

You blink at him in surprise, almost regretting it once you make eye contact. The hint of a lazy smile is there while his eyes scrutinize you. It always feels like he can see right through you, observing you just before he eats you whole. 

“No, Geto-sama,” you shake your head.

He laughs, rubbing your shoulder. “So formal with me.”

“Shouldn’t I be?” you knit your brows. You had been at the temple for less than a year. You weren’t intimate with him enough to warrant that. You weren’t intimate with him in the way your heart longed for.

“Not with me. Never with me.”

“Suguru.” You mull over the taste of his name on your tongue. The shape of it in your mouth. “I’m okay, Suguru.”

You feel pathetic under his gaze. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, sensing the apprehension in your voice. The slight quiver of your bottom lip as you avoid his face.

“I’m just… recovering. From my technique, that’s all,” you say hoarsely.

It’s not a complete lie — the intensive training with Suguru led you to discover that you could bend time and space to your will in small aspects. Teleporting short distances became a new tool for your arsenal. It was still difficult to manage and exhausting to exert. The other day, your nose had bled so much that you almost thought your membranes would burst completely.

“You’re exhausting yourself,” he says gently, rubbing a hand to the small of your back. “But you’re improving rapidly. I’m proud of you.”

Warmth floods your body at his praise. It was too easy for him to wrap you around his finger, and you were starting to hate it.

“Thank you,” you mumble. 

“Do you feel powerful?”

You take a moment of reprieve when he asks this. Powerful? Despite being a sorcerer and wielding the ability to exorcise the monstrous manifestations of human suffering, you did not feel powerful at all. You never have. If anything, you only felt useful.

“Not really.”

“You should,” he smiles. “You’re getting stronger. We’re untouchable together, you and me.”

You and me echoes loud in your brain. Stitches itself into every crevice unwittingly. 

“Ge– Suguru,” you swallow thickly. “Is that why you saved me? Because you wanted me to get strong?”

“Yes,” he nods without hesitation. “I saw potential in you.”

“Is that all I am? Potential? I’m just– just a vehicle for you?”

He leans over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His own hair is down, for once, and you can smell his white tea shampoo as his shoulder touches yours. It almost soothes you.

“You aren’t just a tool to me, you know that,” he sighs, looking at you with intent. “I like taking care of you.”

You nod slowly as you look towards the sky. His words aren’t enough to fill the emptiness inside you. His proximity to you makes your chest constrict in the slightest bit, creaking the floorboards of your ribs inside a haunted house body. 

You shiver when he pulls down your yukata and presses a chaste kiss to your collarbone. It must feel the same as when humans get their curses exorcised by him. Lightness in their being instead of dead weight. Blessed by a god.

“Come inside,” he purrs. “You’re getting cold, yeah? I can see your goosebumps.”

No. His hands were just colder than you expected.

He gathers his hair into a half-up bun before he brings you to his room for the first time. It’s rather bare, save for the kotatsu across from his futon and the talismans that are hanging above it. The calligraphy is messy, unintelligible, as if the text was written manically. 

He sits you down at the kotatsu and pours you bergamot tea. You cough nervously in anticipation.

“Suguru.”

“Yes?”

“Um.. how long do you intend on keeping me here?”

He raises a brow. Looks at you like you’ve asked something stupid.

“You have somewhere else to go?” he asks sarcastically.

You triple-blink at his bluntness. He isn’t taking you seriously. 

“Well, I have a friend or two in my hometown. I was thinking about—”

Your breath hitches when he grabs your chin. His gaze bores into your face, his lips in a hard line.

“You’re unhappy,” he says plainly.

“No, I’m just not sure if I can completely fulfill the purpose that you—”

“Do you think anyone else will take you in?” he spits. “You told me yourself. You have no family. You were barely scraping by when you lived alone. With the amount of cursed energy you possess, you think you’ll be able to protect your friends from all the curses you’ll attract?”

You sink into yourself. As if a switch is flipped, his expression changes completely. There’s that familiar softness in his eyes again. God, the tea was making you feel so warm, too. One look from him and you find yourself melting. Even the Devil would swoon.

“Don’t you think fate brought us together?” he whispers. “Don’t you know how valuable you are to me?”

He almost sounds like he means it. Your rabbit heart speeds up when he strokes your collarbone with his thumb. A heady feeling consumes you and you force yourself to tear your gaze away.

“Look at me,” he demands, grabbing your chin again. He crowds your space, not leaving you any room to breathe. Your gut aches from sudden heat.

“God made you for me. Don’t you know that?”

Your mind goes blank as you nod slowly. He looks at you like he’s starved. No one’s ever looked at you like that before. No one has ever really looked at you before him.

“I’m— I’m sorry, Suguru,” you whisper.

He caresses your cheek, his breath tickling your jaw as he leans in.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand what it’s like to feel a little stir-crazy. I’ll take you out more often, yeah?”

“O-okay.”

He grins and it comes off as sardonic.

“Such a spoiled girl. Only the very best for my girl, hm? I clothe her, feed her, make her stronger. And what do I get in return?” he scolds, thumb swiping over your quivering bottom lip. “She tries to run away from me.”

“I’m not,” you pout.

“You’re not?” he scoffs.

You don’t know what to do other than apologize. You were weak like that.

“You’re so good,” he sighs. “And you want to keep being good, is that right?”

“Yes,” you mumble. 

You shiver again when he runs his fingers through your hair, his other hand undoing the ties of your yukata. You sharply inhale at the cool air hitting in your nipples, the rest of you trembling at the prospect of being so bare in front of him. God or prophet, you didn’t know. All that you know now is that there was no coming back from this. 

“My good girl,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “My best girl.”

You whimper when you feel his tongue on your jaw. His kisses are tantalizingly slow. Teasing. He marvels at the flutter of your lashes in response to his touch. 

He had tried to deny those feelings in the beginning, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He feels as though he’s created you. He liked you delicate, lace winged. A butterfly caught in a jar.

Suguru thinks this is fair. He has always believed in fairness, and although one might argue that his philosophy is a direct contradiction to that, he could beg to differ. Different people had different values, that was all. You just happened to have an advantage in the hierarchy he holds in his head. A precious thing, his treasure. 

When he turned his back on Jujutsu society by becoming a curse user, he would avenge the suffering of the sorcerers around him. Years of adapting to the taste of shit and vomit would eventually earn him something that made it all worth it. He’s convinced that something was you.

He was your savior, therefore you were his blessing. It was only fair that he could take you the way he wanted. You were meant to be found by him. You were meant to be kept. 

You barely put up a fight.

You whimper when he parts your legs with his hands and finds you embarrassingly wet. Every stroke of his hands on your inner thigh has you twitching involuntarily. 

“Oh,” he coos. “Look at that.”

You look away in shame, trying to close your legs, but he forces them open with a bruising grip. Your heart drops to your stomach. 

“What’s wrong, baby? You want to be good for me, right?”

You nod without a word, trying to control your breathing. Your brain is telling you that you want this — you’d wanted to be his from the moment you saw him. Your body tells you the same, but dread creeps up your spine.

You gasp when he grazes your clit with his fingers. He plays with it, stares at your cunt through your underwear like it’s a prize.

“Let me see you,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid. I’m the only person in this world you can trust.”

He slips your panties off easily and you wince at the sound of your wetness sticking to the fabric. He applies more pressure to your bud, distracting you with his mouth on yours. You mewl into his mouth without realizing and he grins against your lips, slipping his tongue inside. 

When you feel a finger push into your walls, you convulse in surprise, though you don’t pull away like he expects. You merely clutch him harder, your hands wrinkling the sleeve of his haori. 

“Shit, you’re tight,” he rasps. “No one’s been here before, is that right? Just me?”

He groans when you look at him with innocent eyes and nod meekly. Of course he would be your first. You were nothing but a wounded dog when he found you, barely had a life of your own before he took you. You were pure and the world was keeping you for him. It was meant to be.

“S-Suguru…” you breathe. He’s pulled you into his lap now, your cunt getting his kimono wet. The slick of your cunt around his finger is enough to make blood rush to his cock. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles. In one fell swoop, he takes you in his arms and carries you to the futon. You squeak in surprise at being lifted off the floor so quickly and so easily. 

He takes the pause in his actions to undress himself, slipping off his robes, and when you see the thickness of his length prodding against his toned stomach, your mouth goes dry. 

“C’mere,” he beckons. You obey.

He kisses you sweetly on your mouth and then down your jaw, squeezing your breasts. Your breath hitches as he takes the time to rub his thumb over your nipples. Suddenly, his teeth graze your chest. Biting, tasting. Forbidden fruit.

You let out a quiet moan and he chuckles. “So sensitive.”

Without a warning, he plunges two fingers into your cunt and you nearly cry out. There’s a choked noise, something in between pleasure and resignation. It’s all too much. When he adds a third finger and feels much less resistance, he laughs. 

“Taking me so well. You’re doing so good,” he encourages before lapping at your chest again. When his fingers curl at just the right angle, your vision starts to get fuzzy. His thumb on your clit only intensifies the feeling.

“I c-can’t—”

“Hm? Use your words.”

“I’m… I’m gonna…”

His movements still and you nearly scream. He pulls back to see tears brimming your eyes and he kisses them away gently despite his cruel smirk. 

“Nonono, please—”

“Please what?” He feigns innocence. 

You bite your lip, your face too hot to feel comfortable expressing what you want. You feel the ghost of your curse wrap around your throat again. Once again, you find that the ticket to salvation has silky black hair and snake eyes. The artillery of a fallen angel disguised as something pure.

He can tell you’re frustrated but too afraid to voice it. You’re as pliable as he knew you would be. Endlessly easy to coax a reaction from. 

“Do you expect everything to be handed to you? Just because you’re mine?” he taunts. 

His. His. His.

You shake your head, whimpering. 

“Then ask nicely, baby.”

Your cunt is on fire even though he isn’t touching you. When he strokes your lip and pushes his thumb into your mouth, you let him. Your tongue tickles his fingertip.

“Ah, so you still have a tongue. You can still speak.”

He laughs when you pout.

“Please touch me,” you say, your voice as quiet as a breeze.

“What was that?” He grins even wider. 

“Pleasetouchme,” you whimper, your voice light as air.“Please… please make me cum.”

“Good girl,” he chuckles, licking into your mouth. His fingers fuck you in earnest now. You feel so full that your eyes roll back. It’s cute.

Poor thing. Suguru is a patient man, but he’s not sure if he has it in him to wait. He could make you cum three more times so that you’re truly ready for him, but he doesn’t want to. He supposes that if he breaks you, you’ll thank him anyway. No one else wants you more than him, you had to understand that. 

His cock throbs at the sight of you coming undone. It’s nearly animalistic, like provoking violence from weak prey. Cataclysmic like a falling star. He’s consumed with it, with the fact that he can do this to you and no one else can. 

He fingers you through the aftershocks, too, until you sob loud enough that his other hand has to cover your mouth. You squirm underneath him, shaking your head in desperation. 

He admires the slick of sweat on your chest, your glowing figure. When he releases you, he thinks briefly that you’re on the verge of passing out. But you tremble, rapidly breathing, eyes unfocused as your lashes flutter. 

Suguru licks you off of his fingers and you stare in horror, returning to yourself.  It makes him giddy, how even your spirit is infinitesimal.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs. He kisses you roughly, tongue prying your mouth open and making you moan. “See? Sweet. You’re perfect.”

He likes seeing you all flushed. Glaze on your cheekbones. He thinks he should make you his wife, memorialize your fucked out form with a commissioned painting and hang it above his bed. A good luck charm among the talismans. You look too good to ruin with his cock, but he knows he’d already taken all of you anyway.

He’ll put you back together after. Pamper you with yuzu slices in a hot bath. Play the part of a boyfriend instead of a master.

He pins you down even though he doesn’t need to. You let him settle in between your thighs, his aching cock slapping against your stomach. 

“So cute when you’re scared,” he chuckles at the look on your face.

“It’s… big,” you say meekly. 

“It’ll fit. It won’t be so bad, yeah? I changed my mind about punishing you for trying to run away.”

Panic paints your features.

“I wasn’t trying to run away! I promise.” Your lip quivers again. Maybe he should make you beg.

“Is that right?” He leans in, precum spreading on the skin above your cunt, tip grazing your clit just slightly. You bite your tongue so you don’t moan from the sensitivity.

“Yes. I want to stay.”

“And why’s that?” he jeers. 

“Because— because you’ve given me everything.”

He waits for you to elaborate.

“Because I’m yours. I’m…  your good girl,” you slur through tears, voice above a whisper.

“Poor baby,” he hums. “Of course you are. Always will be.” Whether you like it or not.

You moan at the same time he prods his tip inside. When he sinks in even further, right to the hilt, he becomes delirious with need. It takes everything in him to not pound into you recklessly.

“Pretty fucking cunt,” he groans. “So warm.”

More hot tears, but your dread is replaced with rapture. He fills you up, already poking at the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your body ripples with pleasure as he moves and digs into your guts, an ocean of tender heat.

It’s a branding. You don’t exist if it isn’t for him.

“Suguru,” you moan. 

He kisses your neck, teeth hard on your flesh. Pulling it taut while his tongue rolls in it and leaves mouth-shaped blessings.

His hips drive into you with more force, cock reaching places that your fingers could never reach. You shut your eyes and phosphenes float through the static of blackness. They linger when you open them again, Suguru’s face illuminating in grainy color.

It takes you a bit to realize his mutters, the way he’s babbling through moans.

Good fucking girl. All mine forever. I’ll die with you.

You let out a pitched moan as Suguru wraps his fingers around your throat. Every part of your body feels like it’s bursting. You cum like that, your walls outstretched by his thickness carving you out in the shape of him. 

“Take it,” he grunts. “Take my cock. Fuck, I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

He’ll probably obsess over your cunt for ages. The face you make when you’re being used. Your ragdoll body.

His bun had come undone. Even if his cock wasn’t in you, your stomach would ache from how beautiful he looked. Eyes focused on you, nearly deranged at the way he was blistering you raw. The cascade of tears down your cheeks. It made him impossibly hard. 

He pulls out quickly to flip you onto your stomach so he can rut into you from behind. The angle makes it so that his cock is even deeper. 

“Oh, Suguru—”

“Yeah, baby? Gonna cum again?”

You whine, all high-pitched and girlish. 

“Tell me you’re mine. That you’ll never leave me,” he grunts.

“I’m yours,” you hiccup. “I’ll n-never leave you.”

Your cunt was starting to burn, even with how wet you were. Suguru cums with a rough thrust at your words, nose buried in between the lovebirds littering your shoulder. You’re full of him. He doesn’t stop, his dick still hard inside you. 

“Shit,” he hisses, looking down to see his cum oozing out of your pussy, all mixed up in your arousal. “How are you still so fucking tight?”

He grits his teeth when he feels you squeeze around him. You can barely form words now, crying as you can feel yourself about to cum again. 

“That’s it,” he pants. “Cum for me, princess. Cum on that cock for me.”

You’re twitchier this time. Your moan tapers off into squeals as you bury your tear-stained face into the pillow. He follows after you with a gasp, his large body covering you like a cocoon. 

He kisses the nape of your neck. Between your shoulder blades. His cock stills inside you, but he doesn’t pull out until he softens completely. When you stop shaking, he turns you over. 

“There’s my angel,” he says fondly. “Thought you passed out on me.”

You shake your head. He smiles lazily, leaning to kiss you all over your face. 

Your bones feel like jelly, but you still switch your positions with intent, and to your surprise, he lets you. Naked and breathing heavily above him, you examine him with his hair spread out on the pillow, cheeks flushed and cherubic. He almost looks innocent. 

He groans at the way your leaking cunt grinds on his crotch, prompting him to get half-hard already. He grabs your hips at the same time you grab the base of his throat. He laughs. 

“Do you feel powerful?”

You blink twice and your eyes glaze over. 

In your vision, you see Suguru’s face flashing you his usual grin, this time showing all his teeth as blood drips from his chin. When you look down at your hands, they’re saturated in the same red. He kisses you despite it all and you understand. 

“Yes,” you breathe. “I do.”

[makeyoumine69]

Being Bateman’s Soulmate | HEADCANON

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader; CW: Romance & Angst; Links: [MASTERLIST]; Song Rec: The Cure — Lovesong; A/N: This is dedicated to everyone who is madly in love with their fictional crush! 💗 If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know!

— “Soulmate? What the fuck does that word even mean?” Bateman would say the first time you mentioned it. His reaction would amuse you at first, although you knew that Patrick would understand its meaning in time, and that feeling when you could touch another person's soul as if it were material. The feeling of wanting to scream because you were so in love that you couldn't even believe it was possible to have such feelings. All of this would eventually overwhelm him, and then he'd never want it to end.

— "You think I have a soul, huh?" He would smile whenever you had sentimental conversations, and even though Bateman kept repeating that he didn't like them, you would sometimes see him sitting alone, thinking about his life before he met you. Did you make his life better? Well, was it even possible to judge such things? Since nothing in this world could be black or white, it was always gray.  But with you, his life was painted in new colors.

— “I remember you telling me that your favorite color was red.” Red like the blood that spilled on his perfect sheets whenever he treated you too rough, but you never asked him to stop. Sometimes those little scarlet spots on the white sheets could look like petals from the red roses Bateman used to give you, even though he knew how clichéd that was. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?" The man would ask, tracing his long finger over the red marks on your hip.  Sighing, you would roll onto your stomach and give him your most devoted look. "Because I like it," and that was all he needed to hear from you. "I'd tell you if I didn't." Having said that, you would sit up to find his lips and kiss him, slowly but eagerly, transmitting all the love and emotion you had for him through that kiss.

— "If you say you love me, why does it hurt so much?" He would ask you this question over and over again after he had a breakdown because he was so overwhelmed by everything you were giving him: your care, your affection, your understanding, and your support. Eventually, it all became too much for him, and when Patrick realized that he was probably in love with you, a sharp pain coursed through the very small pitch of his body like an electric impulse. He loved you so much it hurt.

— One night, you were sitting in the living room in Bateman’s slick apartment and watching some classic romantic comedy from the 1930s, the scenes from it made you think about something you never expected you would. "Patrick, have you ever thought about death?" You asked suddenly, holding his hand and noticing how tense he became. "I mean... I'm afraid of death because I don't want to be without you, if that makes any sense." At first, Patrick just laughed and gently moved closer to you, hugging your shoulders possessively. "Can you promise me that... if there is an afterlife, you will find me there?" Nearly sobbing, you looked into his dark, brown eyes, at the way his eyebrows furrowed as the man considered his answer. "And we will be together even after death?" Your voice cracked at the weight of your words, never before had you dared to speak of such things.

— The question of death, an abstract yet intimately familiar topic, drew a thoughtful arch to his brow. Death was not a stranger to him, nor was it an adversary he feared-not in the way that the average person might. "Death," Patrick began, his voice tinged with a cold amusement that belied the gravity of the subject. "It's the only certainty in life, isn't it? A final transaction, one we all must make." His arm tightened around you, a gesture that feigned warmth but held an undercurrent of something sharper. Bateman met your gaze, the hazel of his eyes unreadable yet intense, reflecting the black-and-white dance of images on the screen. "If there is an afterlife," he continued, weighing each word like a coin on a scale, "I'll find you. But let's not be so morose, darling." The man leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, his breath a whisper that carried the scent of the red wine you had shared earlier. "Life is for the living, and I intend to savor every moment I have with you. Making promises about the afterlife is... morbidly romantic, but unnecessary. I have you now, and you have me. Isn't that enough?"

— And that was even more than enough.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-three

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 5.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: yayyyy s3 is here!! this has SO much potential and there is so much i want to do with this from here but i believe this will be the last season!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

You had the train car all to yourselves. Few peacekeepers were allowed to leave in the wake of the murders, and for that you were thankful. You were able to let Tybalt out to explore the car, but he mostly stayed on your lap.

You felt guilty about taking him, you didn't even want to ask until your mother insisted, and Coryo wouldn't deny you bringing him. You thought about maybe taking him to a vet when you arrived. There were hardly any in Twelve, none of which made time for domestic animals that weren't livestock of some kind. You had to assume that in the Capitol that was a completely different story, so maybe this would be good for him.

It was dark by now, and Coryo was fast asleep on the bench next to you, head pressed to the window. You suspect he hadn't slept at all the night before.

"Sejanus." You whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He replies quietly, sitting across from you at the small table.

"Are you okay?" Your question is met with a few beats of silence.

"I was meant to go with them." He whispers. "I didn't want to go back there."

"The Capitol?" You ask. "Why not?"

"It's not my home." He answers simply. You can hardly see his face in the dark, but you can tell he's sad. Grieving the life he could have had.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Sejanus?" You whisper, leaning forward to try and see him.

"Hm?"

"Was Lennox going too?"

"No." You can see the shadow of him shaking his head in the dark. "He was only going to bring some supplies for us out to the cabin at the lake and leave them for us to pick up on our way."

You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. He couldn't have left. You knew you couldn't bear it- and your parents would not cope well losing another child. You thought he wouldn't do that, but you weren't confident enough to say for certain. You'd much rather have a rebel for a brother than never see him again. Though, to you, helping friends was hardly an act of rebellion.

"What... what are you going to take?" You ask, hoping to change the topic. It was nice to have him talking again. "At the university, I mean."

"Medicine. I'd like to be a doctor, I think. I want to help people, maybe out in the Districts."

"Of course." You grin. "That's so like you. Your patients will be very lucky people."

"It'll never be enough." He shakes his head and you frown. "I can't help everyone. And everyone outside the Capitol needs it so bad. Did you know my father is the head of munitions in District Two? I'll never be able to make up for the pain my name has caused. Never."

"Well..." You look down at the cat curled up next to you. "You saved Tybs. I can't even tell you how much that means to me. Everything you do will mean so much to people. Even if it's just one person, I think that is more than enough. To try is more than enough."

You see the ghost of a smile twitch on his lips. "Thanks, Y/N. You're gonna do good things, too."

"How unhappy is he who cannot forgive himself."

Sejanus sighs. "Extremely."

A few hours later, it was your turn to sleep. At least, to try. It was hard to get comfortable, curled up on one of the benches with a bag of your clothes as a pillow and Tybalt insisting on sleeping on top of you.

You were just drifting off, you could hardly keep your eyes open, when quickly a nightmare jolts you awake. Bang! The sound of a gunshot- in your dream state you know it's the bullet that found a home in Cole Harlem. The next 'bang' was the sound of your head hitting the table next to you when you shoot back up, unintentionally scaring your cat off of your side.

You hiss, placing a hand on the side of your head and rubbing it through the pain. "Ow..."

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Coryo ask quietly, followed by footsteps across the centre aisle of the train car.

"Mhm." You hum, trying to squint to see him in the poor lighting. It must be almost morning- there's a blue wash beginning to paint over everything onboard, including his form as he's crouched down next to you.

"Let me see..." He says softly, hands already lifted ready to touch you. To see if he can help.

You move a little closer, dropping your hand so he can gently cradle your face in his larger ones, using a finger to turn your head to the side as he examines the bump on your temple.

It's impossible for him to see in this lighting, but if there was blood he would be able to tell. "Just a bump." He whispers. "You'll be alright."

You just nod slightly under his grip, eyes searching for his in the dark. Neither of you want to move. Being this close to you, having you come home with him is a gift he wouldn't dare miss by blinking too slowly or letting his hold on you drift.

"Nightmare?" He asks quietly and you just nod again. Without a word, you're moving back on the bench to the window and he is sliding into the spot next to you. "Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"

"No." You answer softly, giving a slight shake of your head.

"Can I ask what it was about?" He asks. "Tigris always told me talking about it helps."

You chew your lip, looking away from him and down at the empty table. "Cole."

Coryo tenses next to you, his jaw clicking from the small movement. "I... I am sorry." He doesn't know what to say besides that- and he feels like telling you that dirtbag deserved it would do little to help the situation.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper, voice mostly steady.

He nods, watching you expectantly. You take a deep breath. "I'm glad he's dead."

You must be a changed woman. It was hardly like you to say something like that- let alone feel it, but keeping it in would just keep you up at night. Coryo wouldn't hate you for it, you're sure.

He looks at you, head tilted while he confirms with himself that you did, in fact, just say the words he heard. You were the most gentle soul in Panem, he was sure, so what on earth could he have done to you to make you say something like that? Now he was more sure than ever that he did deserve it. "What did he do to you?" His gaze softens as it finds yours, and you slightly shake your head.

"It's... kind of a long story." You whisper.

"I have all the time in the world for you."

He sees the ghost of a smile tug at your lips, and you look down at your lap to process your thoughts. "He just... doesn't, didn't know how to take no for an answer." You try to explain it briefly, but the way Coryo's eyes widen makes you backtrack. "I mean, no. I'm sorry. He didn't hurt me. Well, he did, but not in the way that that sounded like." You take a deep breath. "He asked me if I would like to go on a date with him, and I said no, thank you, because I knew him and I knew he had a temper and I didn't think we would work. So, he would wait outside my school and follow me home everyday. He kept asking, I kept saying no, but he didn't listen. It only made him more mad."

It was a rare occasion that you felt so numb talking about someone who had died. "Then, about three months before the games, I guess he couldn't take the rejection anymore and he dragged me away and... I don't know how to describe it... beat me up. I suppose." You laugh dryly, only noticeable to Coryo because he was watching. "Lennox found us, really got into it with him and then had to literally carry me home with his own black eye and bleeding nose."

He nods slightly in understanding, holding himself together from throwing a fist through the window. He was right. That piece of human garbage did deserve it. Now he had every right to be glad he was dead, and so do you. It makes sense to him now, of course you'd only be pleased with a murder if it was someone who had hurt your brother- the fact that he had hurt you the way he did had nothing to do with it.

"You have every right to be happy." He tells you. "Shit, to be honest now I'm wishing I shot him myself."

"Coryo..." You sigh, frowning at him.

"Too far?" He laughs, and you can't help but join him.

"Yes!"

"'Kay, sorry, love. I'll keep it to myself." He raises his hands defensively, cocking his head to the side.

You're quiet for a moment. It's torturous for you both. "He's the reason I went in after you." Your voice is lowered now, noticeably. "He said that I had to go out on that date with him after you left, otherwise I shouldn't be shocked if my Pa ends up executed for treason."

Coryo swallows, staring at you in absolute shock. It just kept getting worse.

"I was terrified, I didn't know what to do, I couldn't be alone anymore. You would have left the next morning and I would have been with him. And I knew he wouldn't have let me talk to you ever again, and I was so scared you would hate me and you'd never know that I didn't have a choice."

"I could never hate you." He says, taking the calculated risk of reaching out to touch your hair, rolling the ends of the soft strands between his fingers. "It'd break my heart, but I wouldn't hate you."

"That's almost worse." You laugh quietly, eyes locked on his hand at your side.

"I'm glad you're coming with us. I don't know how I could live without you." He glances down at your lips, only a shadow in the dark as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn." You agree, and that's all he can handle before he has to kiss you again.

He's so gentle when he holds your jaw in his hand and presses his lips to yours that you aren't sure if there really was a static shock that accompanied it or if that was just your body reacting to his skin on your own.

"I love you, Y/N/N." You almost swallow his words, smiling against his lips. "You know that, right?"

"I love you too, Coryo."

You tried to get as much sleep as possible over the two day ride, waking when the sun rises and you could feel the heat on your skin. You could see the tall buildings that made up the city in the distance.

People say that a ride back always feels faster, because you're familiar with the path; that your mind chooses to forget the uneventful sections. You believe it. The ride home had felt like it took an eternity, but this time it felt too fast. You were nervous; scared, more than excited. Even though this is supposed to be a good thing.

If Coryo had just asked if you would like to go with him, what would you have said? No matter how many hours you put into the question, you really don't know. Not until Cole threatened your family, anyways. You would have had to turn him down, then. Regardless, you were never given the privilege of a choice.

This isn't about him. You have to remind yourself. This is about saving your family, in more ways than one.

Maybe it really was a good thing that Cole was shot. You curse yourself for even thinking such a thing, but with him alive the only possible outcome was him having your father killed. You could only be the perfect girlfriend for so long- you knew him, one mistake from you and he would make true on his word. Then you would have to marry him in order to have another income. Your winnings from the games would only take you so far on your own.

You're not sure if it's the swaying of the train that's really making you sick.

You would get your answer an hour later when your train crossed the bridge over the river, and the Capitol was in full, glorious view.

You could physically feel the blood draining from your face as you stare out the window, unable to look away. You looked like a deer in headlights.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo hums, placing a hand on your leg. "You okay?"

You nod slightly, but you're hardly processing what's happening around you.

He frowns, leaning forward to be able to get a closer look at your face. You look like you're about to vomit or faint or both. "Look." He smiles, patting your leg and pointing out the window. "That tall building there, you see it?" You nod slowly, watching where he's pointing. "Up on the top floor there's a restaurant with big floor to ceiling windows that overlook the river and the mountains. It's beautiful." He's never been there, but he's heard it's incredible.

"And over there, that smaller, longer building is a mall." He tells you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and sliding closer as you continue to follow his hand. "On the outside there's this ice cream shop that makes the most amazing flavours. Literally anything you can imagine." He chuckles slightly. "I'll take you there."

You smile slightly, and the colour begins to return to your face with a slight rosiness in your cheeks.

"After the tunnel we'll pass the university." He grins. "It's a really nice campus, you'll love it there. They have a massive library."

You close your eyes as the train plunges into the darkness of the tunnel, nodding slightly.

"What would you like to do? We can go anywhere."

"I... today I'd just like to go home." You answer quietly.

"Of course, love. But another day, sometime in the future."

You think for a moment. "Is there a vet here?" You ask and he nods.

"I'd like to take Tybs to get looked at. He's not sick, or anything... but he's never been to the vet before so I'd just like to make sure he's in good health." You explain.

"Yeah, we can definitely do that." Coryo agrees. "And there's this bookstore that's three stories tall, you'll love it." He adds.

"Can I meet your cousin?"

"Yes, love. Of course. She'll live with us, you'll be the best of friends." Coryo explains, squeezing your shoulder. He hadn't yet considered you meeting his family, he didn't even have the chance to tell them you were coming. It would be fine, he knew that. They had the room and the funds to support another person now, that wasn't even a question. Tigris had been dying to meet you, wanting to know every detail about you before the games and especially in his phone calls home while he was in Twelve.

He realized suddenly that maybe he should be worried about his Grandma'am. He knew she had a prejudice against people in the Districts, she had voiced as much during his mentorship. She had even influenced a similar attitude in him his whole life- but you were different. You weren't like them, and she would have to learn that, but that didn't make him any less nervous about what she might say to you until then.

"I'm excited." You tell him, forcing yourself to only think about the good things to come.

Your hands are shaking as you pull into the station. You can already see it's a different one than you were pulled from last time, the first place you met Coryo. You grab your bags, holding the one containing Tybalt close to your chest as the door opens and you walk out. He wasn't too fond of getting back inside after having the freedom of roaming the train car, but you were grateful he was not a very temperamental cat.

Mostly, the station was deserted. There were a few peacekeepers here and there, but you still felt as though all eyes were on you.

You didn't notice when your friends were greeted by their waiting family members, still looking around and processing your surroundings.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo's voice brings you back to reality, and you realize you hadn't taken a single step away from the train yet. "Come here."

You smile as you walk over, eyeing who you assume to be his cousin.

"Hello, there." You grin, giving a slight wave but still holding tightly onto your cat.

"Y/N." Tigris smiles, her blonde hair draped over her shoulders in meticulously styled curls. "It's so amazing to meet you! I'm Tigris, Coryo's cousin."

"Yes, you as well." You nod, trying to mask your nervousness with a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm amazing, I am just so pleased you're here. What a great surprise!" She claps, and you take in her outfit. You've never seen such fine materials, outside maybe the silk scarf Coryo gave you that is now tucked in the old suitcase sitting next to his feet. You wonder if she made the clothes she was wearing, remembering he said she was a designer.

"Coryo has told me so much about you. I've been excited to meet you."

"I really wanted to come see you before the games but I couldn't get away from work, I'm so sorry this is the first time we're meeting." She says and you swallow, nodding slightly in response. "Will you be staying with us?"

"If... if that's okay." You say, looking to Coryo who nods.

"Of course that's okay." He answers on her behalf, but she nods in agreement.

"Yes, you're always welcome. We're so happy to have you."

"Thank you." You breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"We should get going, yeah?" Tigris says and you nod, adjusting your hold on the bag in your arms.

They start to walk, already talking about all the excitement of the trip when you get a tap on your shoulder. You jump slightly, turning and pulling your bag closer to your chest.

"Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to startle you." The woman smiling sadly at you must be Sejanus's Ma. He's standing with her, so it was the only assumption you could make.

"It's okay." You reply quietly, smiling at her politely.

"Y/N, this is my Ma." Sejanus introduces you, confirming your suspicions.

"Nice to meet you." You smile, and she brings her hands up to place on your shoulders, gently rubbing them.

"It's so good to meet you, dear." You feel so greatly comforted by her already. "Sejanus told me you would be staying for a while."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You call me Ma." She quickly corrects you, and you match her smile. You could cry- the burning behind your eyes is telling you that you just might. "We know damn well how hard this transition is, so if you need anything at all at any time, you call us. Okay? We'll help you however we can. With anything."

You smile at them, tears filling your eyes. "Thank you." You sniff, and she pulls you into a hug.

Graciously, and awkwardly with Tybalt still between you, you accept. You never want her to let go.

"Of course, dear. You'll always have a home away from home with us if you need it."

"I can no other answer make, but thanks, and thanks." You say, tears flowing now. You never seem to stop crying- but for the first time in a long time, it was from real happiness.

"Twelfth Night." Ma says as she pulls away, still holding your arms.

You laugh slightly, biting into your bottom lip and nodding. "Yes! You've read it?"

"I brushed up after Coriolanus came around asking for Romeo and Juliet." Ma shrugs, letting you go and letting Sejanus give you a hug as well.

"Coryo has our number. Call anytime, I mean it." He tells you and you nod against his shoulder. "But I'll see you soon, okay? We'll hangout all the time."

"All the time." You agree as he lets you go. "I don't want to keep them waiting, so..."

"Yes, of course. It was so good to meet you." Ma smiles.

"You as well, Ma. I'll see you soon I am certain." You wave goodbye and catch up to Coryo and Tigris, who stopped just a little ways away to wait for you. "Sorry..."

Tigris wipes the worried expression off her face. Coryo probably just had to explain why you were there. "Don't worry about it! Ready to go?"

"Yes." You grin, quickly wiping your eyes. "Lead the way."

There are so many things that you hadn't considered on the train ride. Such as, where was the nearest post office? Or how is Tybs going to handle being indoors constantly? You'll have to get him a litter box- you've never had one before since he was mostly an outdoor cat, and would he need toys now that there probably wouldn't be mice or birds for him to hunt?

Also, there was the immediately obvious fact that the stares you were getting were endless. People even stopped you asking for pictures on the way back- Coryo had to tell them no. Several times. It wasn't any longer than a twenty minute walk.

Everyone seemed so excited to see you, to talk to you. Or, talk at you, rather. It was uncomfortable, but it was so different than what you were used to at home. Especially after the games, people tended to literally cross the street to avoid talking to you. Here, it was the opposite. You were some kind of celebrity. You knew Capitol people liked the games, but you didn't know it was like this. You tried to be polite, but being celebrated for something so awful is hard to swallow. You almost preferred the shame that came with being avoided.

"Is it normally like that?" You ask quietly as you walk into the lobby of a tall building, the floors and pillars lined with white marble. You had never seen anything like it.

"I'm not sure." Coryo answers honestly. "You are the first Victor to ever come back, but like I said, people loved you. Thousands of people watched just for you. That's why I won the Plinth Prize- you boosted the viewership beyond what's ever been seen before."

"Oh." You answer simply, following them into a set of silver sliding doors in the wall.

"When we get up I'll make you something to eat, you guys must be starving." Tigris says as the mechanical doors slide shut again, and you tilt your head.

"Uhm... I-" Your question is halted by a steady shake of the small room you're in, and it feels like you're moving.

Coryo looks over at you and your wide eyes, furrowing his brow. "What's wrong?"

"Are we moving?" You ask, looking around. You're surrounded by mirrors, only seeing endless reflections of the three of you.

Tigris covers her mouth to hide her smile, and Coryo laughs. "Yes, love." The two of them look at each other briefly. "This is an elevator, in a second the doors will open and we'll be at our apartment."

"Oh, wow." You laugh slightly, in a small amount of shock.

"I didn't even think that you might not know what it is, I'm sorry." Coryo chuckles, gently rubbing circles onto your back as the doors slide open again and just like he told you, you were somewhere new.

"That's okay, I just have a lot to learn apparently." You giggle, shaking your head as you step out of the so-called "elevator". You look back inside it as the doors slide shut. "So, how does it work?"

"Honestly, I am not entirely sure of the mechanics of it but there's a motor up top, and when you press that button it lifts to you and then lowers to where you want to go." He explains as Tigris pulls out her key to unlock the door. "It didn't work for over ten years, so it's kind of new to me too."

He's trying to make you feel less embarrassed, and that makes you smile at him. "I see. That's neat."

"It is, isn't it?" Coryo grins. He was in absolute awe of you everyday, but now that he's realized that there are so many things you don't know, even as the smartest person he's ever met, and that he wants to show you absolutely everything. Had you even tried ice cream before? What else would be new to you? There were certainly no cars besides peacekeeper trucks in Twelve, not that he had seen anyways, so it must have been jarring for you to see civilian vehicles on the walk back. He should have asked.

As adorable that it was that there were things you had never seen before, it almost worried him in a way he hadn't considered before. You would need him around a lot- not that he minded one bit. He had liked that about the games, he knew where you were while you were caged up at the zoo and he could leave and come back with the comfort of knowing you would be there waiting for him.

His thoughts are interrupted when Tigris gets the door open, shouting for their grandma'am. He takes a deep breath, smiling as he holds the door for you. It is good to be home.

"We have company!" Tigris calls out as you walk in, and you look around focussed on keeping your mouth shut as not to physically gawk at their home. Their apartment was beautiful, with a somewhat open concept and halls that spun off in all directions from the main foyer.

"Oh, lovely! We haven't had company in ages. You should get the tea on, dear." You hear his grandmothers voice before you see her, sparing a glance at Coryo. If he's nervous, he doesn't look it.

She looks like the sweetest old lady, her white hair matching the shade of her silk robe and slippers. "Oh, Coryo!" She smiles, heading straight to him and giving him a hug. "How we have missed you..."

"I missed you too, grandma'am." He sighs, gentle as he hugs her back. When he lets her go, it seems like she has noticed you for the first time.

The excited smile on her face fades instantaneously as she looks you up and down. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N. You remember I told you about her, right?"

"I do." She nods, a sour look on her face as she stares at you.

"Hello, you must be Coriolanus's grandmother, it is so lovely to finally meet you." You smile, readjusting your bag so you can hold it in one arm in order to extend your hand to her to shake. She doesn't take it. "You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Snow." You continue when she doesn't answer you, holding your smile and trying not to seem terrified. It was like the lead-up to the games all over again.

"What's in her bag?" She asks Coryo when she sees it move, ignoring you altogether as you awkwardly drop your hand.

"That's Tybalt, her cat. He's the softest thing, you'll love him." He smiles, an apologetic look in his eyes as he glances over at you. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

"A cat?" His grandmother gasps, taking a step back with a hand to her chest. For a moment, you were scared she was about to have a heart attack.

"Grandma'am, you love cats!" Tigris says, stepping back in from the kitchen with a kettle in hand. "Y/N, come join us in the sitting room. I'm just getting some snacks together."

"Not feral ones!" She replies, appalled.

"Oh, he's not feral, Ma'am." You assure her. "Unless you're a mouse or a bird, he's the gentlest animal alive."

"Coriolanus Snow how dare you bring these... these strays into our home!" Now she's talking like you aren't even there, and you can't help but laugh nervously.

You look away, anywhere but at either of them. Maybe you would be calling Sejanus and his Ma for somewhere to stay by the end of the afternoon.

"They aren't strays." He defends you quickly, frowning. Okay, this was what he was afraid of.

"Here, come sit, Y/N." Tigris says quietly, placing the kettle back down and guiding you out of the room with hands on your shoulders. "I am so, so sorry." She whispers as you walk away.

"It's quite alright." You insist. "She didn't know I was coming, it was all so short notice. I completely understand." She didn't even know you were staying yet.

The sound of Coryo talking down his grandmother faded into muffled sounds as Tigris closes the door to what looks to be a bedroom. "No, no it's not right." Tigris frowns, shaking her head. "I don't want to make excuses for her but the war and the dark days were so hard on her, a lot of the blame was placed on the people from the Districts. She lost both her children and she never really came back from that."

"No, I do understand." You smile sadly. "I'm so sorry you and your family went through that. It must have been so difficult."

"The war was awful for everyone." Tigris shakes her head. "Please, don't apologize to us. No one came out of that unharmed."

"Do you mind if I let Tybalt out?" You ask, eager to change the subject.

"Please." Tigris grins, clearly just as relieved that you weren't horribly offended by their grandmothers behaviour. "I'm excited to meet him."

You smile, crouching down and opening up the carrier for him to hop out. He does so promptly, taking advantage of the opportunity.

"He's so cute!" Tigris squeaks, crouching down to pet him. He was a little jarred at first by new surroundings, but he quickly accepted them when she began petting him. "It'll be so nice to have a fluffy friend here."

"Thank you for being okay with me bringing him." You smile, taking the time to look around the room yourself. Everything looked hardly touched, all sparkly and new with corner windows lighting up the space beautifully.

"Our home is your home." She smiles, standing up again and Tybalt is quick to run over to you, rubbing up against your legs. "That applies to both of you. Grandma'am will come around."

"Thank you." You smile. "The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience."

When she smiles, you can see outside of the blonde hair how her and Coryo are related. "You truly are something else."

"Oh, I hope that's a good thing..." You laugh.

"Yes, absolutely." She laughs. "I'll go get that tea going again and get the guest room all set up for you. The bathroom is right across the hall if you need it, and Coryo will come get you when grandma'am has relaxed a bit."

"Thank you." You say again, watching your cat hop up onto the desk against the back wall.

She gives you a quick hug. "Welcome home." She says softly, shutting the door behind her as she leaves.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[saintmuses]

❝𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙜𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙨❞

Pairing:

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Summary:

She had thought about calling him pathetic, but something shifted inside of her mind, and the word dissolved from her tongue. A little butterfly effect that changed their ending.

Warning(s): SMUT. Slightly dub-con at first. Teeth markings. Praise kink. Fingering. P in V. Enemies to lovers. Slight possessive!Jackson. Minors, dni! Note: this was inspired by the scene where Jackson held Lisa against the wall before throwing her down the stairs. Plus I have a thing for Jackson’s biting kink 🌝.

Word Count: 1.8k

Jackson was behind her, too close, and he pressed her up against the wall in the hallway with both of his hands, both on the wall. Her face turned to the side against the white painted wall, and she could feel his chest rising and falling against her back.

"I don’t want you to touch me." Y/N hissed, exhaling against the cool wall.

She had hoped she would wake up from her nightmares when the sweet person she had met in the line turned into a blackmailing psychotic man who only crossed paths with her for an assignment that she knew he’d failed.

It was real.

"I'm afraid, sweetheart, I don't believe you," he murmured, his voice steady and calm before running his nose along her hair, and she felt an involuntary shiver roll up her spine at the deep tone in his voice.

"Why can’t you leave me alone since I did what you forced me to do?" she questioned vehemently with a little lie slipping through her lips since she had called Cynthia to get Senator Keefe out prior arriving to her house.

Glaring down the hallway as she felt him exhaling a soft chuckle into her hair. He then moved her hair to the side, nuzzling at the curve of her neck.

"Because it is my job to ensure the mission is completed, then I can leave you alone. The question is should I really leave you alone?" He asked huskily as he reached around to her front, and she could feel his fingers gripping her abdomen. She couldn't do anything but to let him guide her back into his body.

She attempted to pull away from him, pressing her fingers against her wall.

Without thinking of any consequences, she leaned forward enough to raise her lips to expose her teeth, and his sleeve were pushed back along with the blazer as he had laid it against the wall when she sunk her teeth into his forearm that was resting against the wall.

He made a noise almost like a grunt, and she could feel him exhaling harshly against the back of her neck. "You like to play dirty, don't you?" He chuckled; the sound rumbled in his chest which vibrated on her skin. "My girl," he said affectionately. "Don't you realize I fight dirty too." He hissed; a hint of dark promise crept into his voice.

She dug her teeth into his arm a little more, tightening her jaw when his hand slowly grazed her skin between her thighs. She was wearing black skirt which granted him easy access, but he had other ideas, he reached down with his unoccupied hand as it grazed the curve of her ass and gripped the elastic fabric around her waist to draw the material away from her body. She gasped when she felt the article of clothing sliding down her legs, leaving her in panties.

"So, you don’t want me?" Slowly, very gently, his hand rose further up into the juncture of her thighs and began to stroke her folds through the thin fabric that had her tightening her jaw even more. "Fucking you with my fingers?" A ragged sound made its way to her ear as he exhaled roughly. "Christ, Y/N. I could never get enough of you."

She felt like she could agree, nearly echoing the sentiment. Her knees shook when his fingers stroke over her skin, igniting a slow burning warmth that washed over her, and she leaned further into the wall.

She swallowed hard, biting down on his arm a little more firmly even as he stroked her, his fingers insistent against her folds, and she tasted slight rustic blood touching her tongue. She realized she had split his skin, and she felt somewhat smug because he inflicted the same to her before when he bashed his head against hers to knock her out in the airplane.

It was only fair.

She could feel a slight rumble against her back as he chuckled, "my girl." He appraised her.

His touch slipped in the panties, to finger further between her folds, finding moisture and spreading it almost lazily. He was breathing deeply in her ear, and she swore she could feel his heart hammering against her back. She was breathing heavily, too, her nostrils flaring as her mouth clamped tightly around the muscle of his arm.

Something between them had changed, which had him pressing her harder into the wall, and his hand wasn't gentle anymore, but she didn't care. Her body craved his touch, craved the heat and the coiling tightness in her belly, the way her knees were shaking and every nerve ending in her body seemed to shut down when his fingers flickered over her clit making her back arched into his chest.

She gasped, releasing the muscle of his arm to see the imprints of her teeth on his skin, reddening slightly. His arm disappeared from her vision, and she jumped slightly when she felt his fingers gripping the sides of her hips. 

She then flinched when she felt a sting around her thighs and hips, realizing he had ripped the fabric off her body.

He then pulled her hips backwards, allowing her to feel his hardened cock in the confines of his dress pants, and she shivered in anticipation.

She could hear the metal grating against metal, and she realized he was undoing his zipper. She shivered as her breathing came into tiny huffs of air to slow down her heart. 

He then shifted, moving her legs apart slightly with his. She felt his thick cock nudging between her thighs, and she could feel him breathing heavily at the sensation her increasingly wetness provided.

"Jackson," she whispered, not at all sure whether she was telling him to stop or begging to continue.

"Say my name again, Y/N." He growled against her neck; a low moan of his name torn from her lungs as the pleasure rippled throughout her body when he thrusted into her.

"Good girl," he said softly before pulling back slightly, his voice slithered across her skin, close to her ear. Something inside her quivered, though she tried to ignore the sensation.

She gasped against the wood when he thrusted back into her gently. His thick cock stretching her that she knew she wouldn't be able to find anyone to compare to.

She pushed her head into the plaster slightly when he shifted his angle, and she could feel his cock brushing against the cervix that had her gasping more in pleasure and a twinge with pain.

He then pushed her off of his cock, and she immediately protested due to the loss of being filled. 

He turned her around and lifted her up by her waist before carrying her over to the bedroom nearby. Luckily, it was a bedroom assigned for guests.

He dumped her unceremoniously on the bed, making the bed springs squeaking slightly. He removed his blazer, throwing it somewhere in the room before unbuttoning his dress shirt. Once that ended up on the floor as well, he reached behind his head to grab the fabric of his shirt to pull it off, and he allowed his dress pants to fall to the floor before kicking them to the side after removing his shoes. She looked at him, analyzing his body before he got on top of her, his knees were on both sides of her hips, and he leaned back on her thighs.

He reached for the hem of her dress shirt, pulling upward to reveal her white laced bra cupping her breasts, and he sat on her thighs once again after she was free from the confines of her shirt. He then slid his palms up her bare sides of her abdomen before reaching for her bra.

She released a shaky breath as she arched into his touch as he pushed her bra up and over her breasts, his hands cupped her breasts, gripping them in a possessive grasp. "Mine." He rasped before leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth.

Arching her back after feeling his tongue swirling around her nipple, and she inhaled sharply when he sucked the skin into his mouth long enough to form a discolored spot. The torture was delicious, slow but deliberate when he continued to mark her skin with discolored spots.

A trace of a smirk hovered at the corners of his lips as he moved away from her thighs to the side of her leg after withdrawing his mouth from the swell of her breasts.

He pushed her legs upward until it was enough for him to nestle between her thighs, draping her thighs on top of his as he sat back on his knees. She gasped lightly when his fingers tangled in her strands, gripping it slightly with curled fingers, tilting her head forward by his urge, putting her elbows on the mattress, then she moved slightly, and she could see his cock pulsing slightly. 

She felt the heat of tendrils curling at the base of her spine, curling all around her as she bit down on her lips when he gripped the base of his cock with a curl of his fist. 

She could see him staring at her with a heavy amount of lust in his depths. "You're so beautiful," he shuddered before moving forward.

She inhaled sharply when he pushed his cock against her clit, the feeling burned her from the inside out. Before she could exhale, the air caught in her throat when he leaned down to smash his lips on hers with intensified raw passion. His grip in her hair tightened when he thrusted forward, and she released a loud gasp that edged on a moan when she felt him filling her up in every way.

Her neck arched when he pulled her head back after releasing her lips as he trailed his lips down to her jaw, revealing her neck to his hungry gaze. "God, I'm never going to let you go." He groaned slightly as her walls clenched around his thick cock. She shuddered when he withdrew from her momentarily before shoving his cock back into her with a brutal strength.

No one was able to make her feel like this. 

So hot, and dangerous. 

She cried out in pleasure and pain when she felt his teeth making its way in the spot of her neck, and she gripped his back with her fingers, digging in slightly when he tightened his jaw as he thrusted back into her.

His thrusts were so powerful that she knew she'd be sore for days and nights. 

She slid her fingers down his slightly damp skin of his spine, slowing down as she reached for his ass to pull him deeper into her.

She could not get enough. 

"Why me?" She gasped when he withdrew from her neck, she could see a little speck of blood -her blood- brimming around his lips before he leaned down to kiss her.

He exhaled into her mouth, sharing air with her as he slammed his hips into her. 

"Because you're mine."

[nkogneatho]

𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄

: ̗̀➛synopsis: You were scared of falling in love but will you change your mind when you meet someone who actually shows you how you are filled with so much love?

#mlist #commission #taglist

—wc: 1.5k

—cw: gn!reader, fwb to lovers (ig), hurt/comfort, mild smut, cockwarming, receiving head, abandonment issues, past trauma, commitment issues, anxiety and crying, fluff, soft gojo, not proofread (its 2 am im sorry)

—a/n: so my mind decided to remind me of my trauma on a Wednesday night so I pulled this out of my ass. Tell me what you think if you read it :)) Reblogs much appreciated.

It fucked you up. Body fragile as a glass, mind clouded dark. The crippling fear emerged on the surface once again. That same old feeling. The feeling of abandoning someone before they abandon you.

You pitied yourself. What a pathetic person to get walked over by all those people. You despised every single decision you made. That included to kindle a relationship with this man.

Gojo Satoru. The strongest, they say. Hair whiter than snow, eyes glinting in light like the ocean waves turn diamond in sun.

He loved you. In fact, he loved you so much it scared you. The anxiety creeped up your back when he said those words to you.

"I love you."

He loves me. He said he loves me. But so did every other guy. He is lying. He'll leave.

Can you blame the traumatized mind to come to such conclusions?

Gojo did expect this reaction from you. He knew you were scared or love and commitment. Although the man felt the need to confess or he were to regret it for the rest of his life. Your knees met the floor with a loud thud, arms hanging like they were a soft toy.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Your voice cold.

"I do. I love you. And I know it's something you never wanted to hear given this relationship—fuck is this even a relationship?" His palm rubbed his forehead, feeling the rough sensation of his bangs

He was right to ask that question. Was this a relationship? You both started as just fuck buddies. You set a bunch of rules (which were tampered later anyway.)

Rule No. 1, no interference with other party's personal life.

Eh. He broke that when he started coming to your workplace with a bouquet of tulips every Monday. He knew Mondays were harsh. So you didn't complain because it did help to get through the rough day. Rule No. 1 successfully broken.

Rule No. 2, dates are okay sometimes but not a lot. Maybe twice a month.

Now, you were the one to alter this rule. Dates might be forbidden but not coming over to his place and treating it like your own home. His place was way more spacious given his generational wealth. It was easier to focus on work in such a silent and lone environment. The rule only got broken when you decided to move in. Well, you would save the time to call him over or you traveling here just to fuck.

By now, he had probably bullied his dick inside you in every single room. You still remembered his words.

"I want to fuck you in every square inch of this house, y/n."

And he did.

He fucked you on the big navy blue velvet layered couch, not giving a shit if your juices stained the expensive material. He'd just buy another one.

He spread your legs and ate you out on the dinner table on that one evening when the takeout took too long to arrive. Your fingerbeds grabbed his head so hard, it might've broken his skull as you orgasmed. He later thanked the delivery guy for being late to which the boy walked out with a confused look.

He made your wrap your legs tightly around him as you cockwarmed him on the kitchen counter. Brows furrowed, desperately wanting to grind. But your locked thighs around his slutty waist, not letting him do so.

Every square inch, he fucked you in. So Rule No.2 was off the table.

Rule No. 3, No catching of serious feelings or saying I love you.

Gojo didn't recently fall for you. He was caught in this way before you realized. Maybe he even doesn't remember it himself when he did.

"What do you mean? You just broke rule 3, Toru."

"Fuck those rules. I don't even know why we had them in the first place. Look at us y/n," he tried to reason. "We never follwed them so don't give me that crap." His voice was elevating to a higher octave. You hated it. You don't like yelling. It triggers the tinnitus in your ear.

Tears started rummaging down your dry cheeks. "Look at me. I know you're lying."

"Baby, I am not. I know it's hard to believe given your past but just trust me on this one." Yes he knew about your previous failed relationships and the effect it had on you. Which is why he took so long to confess. Each day, calculating the outcome. So at some point, he did know how you'd react. Maybe he'll lose you forever.

"Why?" You questioned him. You felt like you were a broken soul. Used and abused mentally. Taken advantage of the innocent mind and abandoned when you were to ask for the real love. You started hating the word love, ironically.

I love you. It sounds preposterous in your brain. What a fool would someone be to ever believe those words.

"Why? Look at yourself," he said.

"I do. Everyday. Which is why I asked the question. I am nothing but someone drowning. But I do not want to be saved. I don't want a savior, Toru! It makes me feel pathetic and weak." By now, you were wailing and screaming.

But he didn't interrupt. He let you scream your heart out. Maybe that was the last option he could choose to make you face your actual feelings.

"You done?" He asked. You were sniffing, catching your breath from all the yelling.

"Toru, all I see myself is as a broken soul. Why would you ever love...this" you pointed at yourself.

"You fool. Look in my eyes and tell me if I lie, but all i see in you is love. It's funny how you hate that feeling yet you're filled with it, y/n." His gaze softened. "You say you don't want a savior. Do you realize you don't need it in the first place. Because it's you who saves others."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember, Ginger was abandoned in the rain when we saw her the other day? No one cared about her but you did. You fed it canned cat food a took her to a shelter. You named her. You cared for her." He intertwined his hand in yours.

"Y/n. I used to wake up every single day in this apartment feeling absolute shit about what happened with Suguru and others. But when you started barging in on random days, that's when I started to feel a little better." You understood it. It is lonely to live alone with your own thoughts haunting you in this big pace.

"You made this house a home. You don't need a savior because you are one." he claimed.

"When did you—you started loving me?" You asked between hiccups.

"Sweetheart. I fall for your every single second. Everytime I wake up next to you. Everytime I see you smile. Whenever you skip on the same colored tiles on the footpath. I love all of you." That is when you realized how selfish you've been. Taking and taking his love but giving none back. He did so much for you. But you were about to leave him in a fear of something that might never happen.

"What if you leave just like all of them?" you asked.

"Give it one more chance. Who knows? Maybe I'll stick around for the rest of our lives." He wore a soft smile as he said those words, affirming you. You started crying again, but this time, it was due to happiness.

"If you never leave, I promise to love you more than myself."

"Oh, baby," he hugged you a tightly. "I love you so fucking much and I am so happy right now."

He pulled away and his lips crashed against yours. It's weird. You've kissed hundred times before but this one felt different. Maybe, because it was filled with love and acceptance.

You came to a realization. You don't know what the future holds. It is not the fear of abandonment that scares you. It's the feeling of you giving away all your love and them not giving any back. You always swam ocean for people who couldn't even meet you at the shore.

But Gojo never left your side. All this time, he was swimming right behind you, concealing you from all the harm. So if anyone's worth the risk, it's him.

Oh. Gojo Satoru. What a beautiful man you are.

[meatonfork]

HELLO!! I've got an idea (idk if anybody request it already or u already wrote it). Can you write about grim stealing clothes from the 141? And their reaction? IT WOULD BE AMAZING I SWEAR! THX <3 P.S YOUR STUFF IS SO CUTE AND PERFECT. KEEP UP THE WORK💕🫂💕

A Thief

————————————————————————————————————————

pairings: platonic 141 x grim

warnings: none i believe

summary: grim gets caught read handed

————————————————————————————————————————

you’d always enjoyed winter. but, because of your small size, it was always harder for you get warm and stay that way.

the first time you’d ever stolen one of the task force’s articles of clothing was when you were stuck in the russian woods during winter.

you and ghost had been thrown into the field. alone. the mission actually went incredibly well considering it was tackled by a grumpy, closed off lieutenant, and a jittery, talkative, kid-sergeant.

the two of you were in and out- just like you’d been briefed to do so.

the issue? a giant fucking snowstorm that prevented evac.

the wind howled in your ear as you shouted over to ghost, “do you even know where you’re going?”

the wind pushed you back, but you prevailed. the cold nipped at your nose and cheeks. snow fell into your eyelashes, and your body was soaked from the wet.

“jus’ a bit further.” he was gruff, as usual, but even the loud wind couldn’t silence his chattering teeth.

you were severely underdressed for the weather. just a thermal shirt, your cargo pants, boots, a fleece quarter-zip, and your tac gear. ghost was no better off than you.

the small cabin came into view after roughly 20 more minutes of silence.

ghost rushed in, clearing it, before pulling you by your bicep.

the cabin wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t exactly what you had hoped. luckily, there were two bedrooms. but, other than that, there wasn’t much. a kitchen, a bathroom, and a random couch.

“it’s not much, but it’ll do.”

the giant next you hummed in agreement, “go get in the shower. you’ll get hypothermia, kid.”

you almost argued, saying he could’ve gone first, but your body was shaking so badly you almost couldn’t stand.

you sighed with a nod and made your way to the bathroom. stripping yourself down to nothing and turning on the shower. the water was heavenly even if it wasn’t that warm. you stood there, letting it warm up your limbs. your red fingers finally gaining some feeling.

a knock on the door about 5 minutes later sounded through the room.

“yeah?”

“want me to take your clothes to dry them off? built a fire.”

“go for it!”

ten minutes later, you walked out with sweats and a t-shirt on. a towel bunched in your hands, with your head tilted to the side- drying your hair off. goosebumps raised on your skin as the steam rolled out of the bathroom behind you. looking around the small house, you found ghost crouched in front of the fire, warming up his hands.

“hey, big guy. bathroom’s all yours” you offered a small smile when his dark eyes met yours.

“thanks, grim.” he stood and made his way to shower before he paused right next to you.

you were about to ask him what was wrong before he stalked back the way he came, riffled through his pack, and tossed something at your face.

you squeaked as you caught it, dropping the towel.

you were about to scold him, but the soft material of a hoodie stopped you in your tracks. you offered your lieutenant a questioning look.

“you’re fucking shivering, grim. put it on.” his voice was gruff. and with that, he walked into the bathroom without a word.

later that night as you both sat in front of the fire, backs resting on the couch, ghost voiced out, “i’m not gettin’ that back, am i?”

“nope!” you curled up to him with a smile too big for your face.

———

since that mission, you’d taken it upon yourself to make yourself as cozy as possible.

ghost’s hoodies were just so much bigger than yours.

soap’s sweats were just so much comfier than yours.

gaz’s shirts just fit so much better than yours.

and price’s socks were socks, but you didn’t want him to feel left out.

this is how you found yourself being interrogated in the commons, surrounded by your team.

“why am i here, boys?” you almost sang out.

“grim. you have an issue. who’s clothes are you even wearing right now?” gaz was the first to break the ice.

“oh, a little bit of everyone’s i suppose.” you shrugged.

“kid. we need those back. you have your own clothes, for god’s sake!” price scolded you, arms crossed against his chest and head tilted to look you in the eye.

“but they’re comfier than mine! and, they keep me warmer! please?” you threw out your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would hit them in the heart.

soap sighed out, a hand dragging down his face.

“let me tell you what, kid. keep what you have, but no more stealing them.” ghost’s voice was gruff from behind you.

you whirled around, “how about i switch them out when they don’t smell like you guys anymore? heh, variety!”

“whatever. meeting dismissed, i’m tired.”

————————————————————————————————————————

a/n: thank you for reading <33

[art-of-ket]

Questions

Miguel O'Hara is acting odd when you go to speak with him about the nature of the Web of Life and Destiny and having a future despite his past.

This is my first time publishing a fic here so I hope y'all like it :) leave me some critiques and comments!

GN reader, SFW, minor acts of aggression, so much angst

______

"Mr. O'Hara?"

You walked cautiously into his office as if on tightrope, ready to leave as quickly as possible if necessary.

"What is it?" 

The room was unusually dark, orange glow from the screens high up the only indicator of his existence. He muttered something to Lyla and she appeared in front of you, materializing from your watch. She whispered to you conspiratorially. 

"He's in a mood again, y/n."

"I heard that." He echoed.

"I'll leave you two to it." She winked and fizzled out of vision.

You stood for a moment, watching the arch of his back sway as he worked. Should you wait?

"You can come up here…" You complied and shot some web to the platform, landing quietly behind him. "I'm still in the middle of something but I need a break anyways." 

He shifted to face you. His eyes had darker than usual lines under them. 

You had visited him alone a few times before, and each time he treated you much friendlier than expected. Whenever you were in a group meeting, he was always brash and sometimes aggressive. Much unlike now. He was quiet and patient for you. Maybe it was like that for some of the others when they met him privately. You hadn't asked around. But you were still curious.

"I was wondering if you had time to talk for a bit?" 

"Sure." He folded his arms and leaned back.

"Well… I've been thinking about the multiple dimensions and canon."

"You wouldn't be the only one. What about it?"

"If we have to follow our stories out in our own worlds, what does that mean for here? I'm sure it wasn't planned out that we'd all meet."

He stayed silent.

"So do those same rules apply here?"

His eyes flicked back to you.

"What do you- of course they still apply."

"So it's just canon for all of us to be in your dimension?"

"Probably not originally. But the Great Web was spun that way."

"Just like it was spun to punish you?"

He looked at you incredulously. 

"You don't know what I did."

"I know enough that it isn't fair that you're trying to clean this all up by yourself."

"I'm not doing this alone."

"Then stop acting like it." You said it so quick you let out a gasp as if it got past against your will. Which it kind of had. You never spoke to him like that. You met his gaze with wide eyes.

"Okay then." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell me, y/n, what do you want me to act like? You want me to be ignorant to the possibilities of all our dimensions' destruction?"

"No, I…"

"Cause I've already seen worlds ripped apart, children… children screaming, people dying. I can't let it keep happening." His tone raised and hitched painfully.

You took in a breath.

"And what happens once you fix it? Are you just going to wait patiently for the next accident and not make a new life for yourself?"

"I already found a life for myself and it didn't work. I don't deserve another chance." He turned away from you and gripped the desk so hard you swore the metal creaked.

"And who decides that?" You took a step towards him.

His shoulders hunched, head dipped, quivering with frustration.

"Miguel…"

He moved so fast you had blinked and found claws hovering at your eye line. You looked at his face, not even scared enough to have flinched, and saw red staring back at you. Words hung from your parted lips. He had almost attacked you. So why had he stopped?

He huffed and swung his arm back at the desk. He slumped in defeat, keeping his claws stuck in the metal.

"You should leave." 

But you didn't. For the same reason he hadn't hurt you. Instead, you lowered a hand to his broad shoulder. 

"We still have choices to make. No matter what the web says." Your breath shook at the end. He didn't move. You stood in silence for a while. With no response, and having made your point, you decided to leave. Before your hand could pull away, he grabbed your wrist. 

"How? Why are you like this? Even after seeing the darkest sides of humanity… you still show kindness. What's wrong with you?" He looked up only enough for you to see his eyes were back to an orange hue. You met his gaze steadily.

"If I don't, who will?" You sadly chuckled. "Afterall, it's all part of being a spider-person, y'know? Staying strong, getting back up when no one else can…"

You couldn't know how much he wanted to say sorry. There's no way he'd be able to put into words how deep his regret had changed him. So he deflected.

"You called me Miguel this time, y/n." He reluctantly let go of your wrist.

"Oh. Oh! I uh… didn't overstep any formalities… I'm sor-"

"It's okay. You can call me Miguel." He stood and pulled his fingers from the desk and tried to brush the shredded metal off. That was unsuccessful, so he just tilted his hips to cover it from your sight. "I'll uh, have to tell Lyla to get someone to fix that…" He stared at you, feeling like a fool. 

"I wish I could help you with that." You rubbed your arm, pulling at the suit.

"You already have helped." He caught himself when you stared back. "I mean with the other stuff. You are helpful. I'm mumbling." He rubbed the back of his hair and let out a sigh. "I'm so so sorry…" 

"I know." 

Words hung in the air and the bizarre nature of your visit shook your inhibitions.

"So you uh, talk with everyone else in private this way?" You chuckled.

His eyes grew wide.

"What way?" Before you could say anything. "No of course I do, yeah…" 

"No?"

"Did I say no? I don't think I said no…"

"You did."

"Well I don't let just anyone get away with the stuff you pulled, that's for sure." He smirked and instantly regretted it.

"Oh."

"I mean. Ugh. Just don't mention that to anyone. I'm not going soft."

"Oh of course not…"

You looked at the floor smiling in thought. He hadn't really given you the answers you wanted after all. 

"Why did you ask about what I'd do after all this is done?" That threw you off.

"Well uh someone's got to ask you… make sure you have someone to look forward to."

"Someone?" Your face flushed.

"Something! I meant something!" He raised an eyebrow. 

"Well I'm open to suggestions then, I suppose. Who… I mean, what, should I look forward to?" He teased.

"It could be someone you look forward to spending time with. Or just any kind of thing at all really." You backed up towards the edge of the platform. You were digging your grave with each word. "Uh, I should go now…" 

"I look forward to talking with you again then, y/n… hopefully with less of me making a fool of myself." You squeaked at his tone and facial expression. 

"Yeah, uh, of course!" He was teasing but also… was he flirting with you, or was he just so hot that it made everything he said with a smile sound flirty? You couldn't manage an answer, so you quickly turned and fled from that awkward interaction. He watched as you ran from the room.

"Lyla."

"What was that about? Did you really need to ruin another desk?"

"Lyla, focus, does y/n have feelings for me?" 

She just laughed.

[wulvercazz]

🌧️Memories🌧️

part 3 is hereee, this one is a bit longer too :>c Next part will be a written-only update, btw!

Previous~

Even after weeks of working so close to Grimmjow every night, listening to him complain about how much he touches him, hearing his taunts and questioning his skills, he still can't properly wrap his head around how easy it is to fall into conversation with it. Him - he supposes. He's gotten startled several times now, in the middle of the night when he works on trying to put Grimmjow back together, when he's met by the icey, robotic cyan of his optic sensors instead of actual human eyes.

But he tries not to think too much about it. The least he needs right now are life-altering revelations- Grimmjow's creator is simply a genius who created an impecable code, that's all. Nothing about the silent pondering behind his synthetic face can be human, even if something in his gut churns everytime he denies it.

His uncanny valley reaction is just dusty from all this time of working around their fabricated faces.

None of them look quite like Grimmjow, though, now that he's mostly put together what parts of his body he could bring with him, he's... not as nightmarish to look at (or listen to) anymore. Perhaps even handsome, with that nasty gash in his right cheek-jaw faceplate and all.

But this is only superficial handiwork. Sure, the gross mess of cable-guts is now nicely rearranged and set back along his metallic spine; even while the materials he used clash with the clean cyan and metal and white of his creator's masterpiece, and the jagged ripped edges of the synthetic meat-gel are shaved down to a clean cut. The disfigured nub that hanged from his left shoulder removed completely, and the inside is still but a barren puzzle. He's missing too many pieces.

Grimmjow can lift himself, barely, holding his weight in his sole standing limb; serving him more like a stiff table leg than an actual arm. He can control his face well enough to mock him all along. But the rest of him sits frozen in his work table, and he's even more confused by his insides than he was about his outside - no one works with technology such as this, no one worries about innovative mechanisms looking human. He's almost tempted to give his old man a call and ask for his medical expertice to help.

Every time he sighs in frustration, Grimmjow's eye attempts to twitch harder in annoyance; his surprised the thing hasn't popped out it's socket.

"Why do you care at all?" He asks, again, for the thousandth time this week. Each time he asks, Grimmjow sounds more and more just as frustrated as he does. And every time Ichigo doesn't know what to answer, but bouncing ideas off someone has always helped him get unstuck.

"Whoever... built you..." he says it almost tentatively, like Grimmjow isn't aware he's not human, "had clearly a much more advanced understanding of androids than me. More advanced even than pretty much anyone who's made android fabrication their life work... but the technology is so..." organic, he wants to say, instead, he lets his words die with a sigh. "I don't think I can fix you without their help."

"Then don't." Grimmjow grumbles, like its the obvious answer.

"But- it's-- you are-" Ichigo's not even sure why he's arguing with him, but somehow the idea of stopping now is... "it doesn't seem right."

Grimmjow stares blankly at him, but he can tell the android's judging him with every bit of elctronic fiber in his being.

Stubborness sets on his brow. --

He should've done this sooner. Ichigo hides under his crusty old parka and uses the dim light of his work glasses to skim every sticky corner of the alley he found Grimmjow in. It's a long shot, if it's even here at all; it's been weeks and he didn't see it at all the night he brought him over... but then, it was dark then too. He's more and more thankful for his work gloves with every sopping wet piece of trash he lifts off the ground; more thankful to his ratty parka when the rain just grows heavier and heavier, enough that even the layers of lit up buildings and roads can't stop all of it from licking his face and sopping wet ankles.

There's still pieces of broken metal everywhere, broken white plates of fake musculature accumulating water and dirt in their crevices, lumps of what he hopes is mushed up stinky trash littering every cranny. He swallows back the urge to vomit and lifts up another water-soft piece of cardboard, and he almost pukes anyway when he sees the core, caked in more lumpy trash. He's not sure if it's an excited or a disgusted nausea, but at least he can go back home. Victorious, for once.

"You sure to do this you gotta get all up on my business?" Grimmjow asks above him the next night; Ichigo's got the dry, clean, memory core in one hand as he feels for the correct bits and pieces to press on on the back of the large port in his middle.

"How else will I reconnect your memory core?" He barely mutters, too concentrated on getting the thing to fit porperly; too focused on work, even though this is technically a side project, because finally something is moving forward. "Just stay still already." He shots right after when Grimmjow fidgets again in his spot.

He looks up, only for a second, when Grimmjow doesn't retaliate with another insult or jibe; his glowing eyes are looking away, and his hand suddenly feels hyper aware of how 'in his business' it really is. If he were human... and, fuck, he really needs to stop making this idiotic comparisons... he'd almost expect to catch Grimmjow blushing.

He stops thinking altogether, because shame is simply impossible in a droid, and instead keeps his mind on track with work; "you'll get back full access to your memories as soon as this clicks in place, alright? So... take it easy, I don't need you bursting something because we overloaded it with information."

"Just do it."

Ichigo waits for just half a breath, and with a soft click the core is inside, lighting up in the same bright cyan as the rest of him to signal it's successful reconnection.

Grimmjow's face goes blank, and for a second such an android-like expression worries him. His eyes more devoid of emotion even than when he slept, half torn apart; the light in his eyes glitching sickeningly like they're looking through at inhuman speed. And then... nothing. Grimmjow's eyes fall closed and so does the light in his body extinguish all across.

"Grimmjow...?" He barely mumbles. Grimmjow's lights turn right back up and his eyes open wildly, what little he can move of his body jolting in place like he's fighting back something. Ichigo's barely had time to stumble back to safety when present time returns to the android. The way he looks at Ichigo is only different in the way he seems to look with even more understanding in his eyes, and that alone would be more worrying if only he wasn't so concerned at the time.

"Professor Jaegerjaquez will not be helping you.. or anyone." He says in the most robotic voice he's ever heard from him, suddenly appropriate enough that it feels like he's reading from a script, and Ichigo doesn't even get the chance to ask him to elaborate because Grimmjow's chillingly human voice comes back to say; "I watched him die."

Next~

[boredzillenial]

Data

Your boss Nathan needs your body “for science”

Themes: DEAD DOVE DNE - dark!Nathan, kidnapping, sensory deprivation, fingering, oral breast play (f!receiving), jerking off

A.N: contains railroad sentences and my rusty attempt at improving prose 🤣 thank you @lunar-ghoulie for putting up with me

Word count: idk at the moment it’s short

“Show yourself you son of a bitch!” Your voice reverberated against the stark walls, “I know you’re there Nathan!” You twisted and writhed against your restraints to no avail.

Nathan, your boss, had invited you to come out to his estate. In an excess of caution you’d chosen to politely decline. What you hadn’t realized was his invitation was not a request, but a heads up.

You took a moment to breath and take notice of the different points of pressure on your body. Whatever he’d used to bind you you was soft but firm against your wrists, chest, waist and ankles. Your back pressed against hard cool material, the scent in the room clean and chilled air blew across your exposed skin.

You rolled your head from side to side in an attempt to wiggle the fabric from around your eyes but it didn’t budge.

“That’s not gonna work.” Nathan’s bored voice sounded from somewhere in the room.

You froze, “Nathan-“ you grated “let me go.”

“Nathan let me go.” He mocked, “Do you really think I’d go through the trouble of getting you here only to let you loose?”

Your lip curled in agitation as you snapped against the restraints. “What do you want.”

A fingertip pressed against your ankle “What I want,” he said slowly as that sensation snaked its way up your leg, “is data.” His touch paused at the line between your hip and thigh.

“What?” You growled in confusion. “I swear to fucking god Nathan when I’m out of here-“ the removal of sensation on your skin stalled your brazen words.

“Threatening your captor, interesting choice.” His voice still sounded bored amongst the rustling beside you.

“Interesting choice to kidnap me*eeee*.” Your retort was cut short when something firmly pressed against your core and vibrated furiously. It was too much all at once and you feebly bucked only to be met with the tight restrain across your hips. The curse in your throat twisted to a groan, “F-fuck yo-u.”

“Another curse -“ you could practically hear the eye roll in his tone, his next words breathed hot across your ear “so predictable.”

You tilted your face toward him with a smirk, if he wanted to play games let’s see what happened if you played along. “U-up a bit, and to the left.”

“Attagirl.” He chuckled and followed your direction. Your back arched and strained as your breath caught in your throat.

You’d quickly climbed to your peak with the precision and pressure, your breath coming in ragged pants. Just as you came so close to release the sensation vanished, leaving you crashing back to earth.

A choked whine wrung from your throat. “Why.” You whimpered.

“Measuring heart rate, perspiration…” a finger slid along your slick folds “arousal.”

You breath caught in your chest at the sudden sensation of two thick fingers plunged deep into your core. Nathan took his time moving around, scissoring his fingers inside as he tsked “still tight.”

“Nathan please.” You murmured, the stretching sensation growing to be uncomfortable.

“Why are you getting tighter?” From his tone he might as well have been asking a casual scientific question in a clinic.

“Doesn’t feel good.” You grumbled “not like that.”

Nathan’s hand adjusted, two fingers remained deep inside, but this time he added his thumb to press against your clit. “What about like this.” He drew slow firm circles and pumped slowly.

Your breathing picked up while a coil of pleasure twisted low in your belly. Despite your head swimming with pleasure you heard Nathan’s soft voice off to the side, “Slickness increase and vaginal relaxation with stimulation to the clitoris.”

“Are you - taking notes?” You huffed between breathes.

“I told you, I need data.” He said in annoyance. “Fuck sake.” He growled.

You heard a rustling near your head and the sound of spit hitting skin made you jerk. “What the fuck.”

“Shut up.” He snipped, his breath hitched as soft squelching sounded beside your head. The moment his fingering matched the pace of the noise beside your head you realized what was happening.

“You’re - jerking off?” You huffed.

“Want me to stuff it in your mouth?” He retorted. You snapped your head away, eliciting a sardonic huff from Nathan.

The squelching noise and his breathing picked up pace as his fingers worked. You groaned and arched against the pleasure building, gasping at a sudden wet tingling feeling on your nipple.

The stroke of his tongue as it lapped at the stiffened peak encouraged you to arch further, pushed you even closer to the edge.

A soft pop sounded and you whined in protest at the loss “Vaginal tightening with oral stimulation to breast.” He muttered, returning his warm mouth back to your breast with a hum. The rough tickle of his beard across your skin mixed deliciously with the swirling around your stiffened peak.

Your orgasm crashed over you in waves as his hands and mouth worked in tandem. “S-shit!” The ministrations sent you bucking against the restraints and your breath in ragged pants.

Another groan vibrated your nipple sent fire through your nerves before it vanished. The fingers buried deep in your core and against your sensitive nub picked up to an uneven pace. A wrecked groan sounded from above you as warm wet ropes splattered across your chest.

Despite the ringing in your ears you heard Nathan growl in annoyance, “Data inconclusive, requires further testing.” Something fluffy wiped between your legs picking up the mess of slickness there before wiping up the white painted on your skin.

“Further testing?” You voice was weak and broken as you came back to reality.

“If I’m gonna make robots I’d actually wanna fuck I gotta get it right.” His voice moved about the room accompanied by rustling. “Movement, viscosity, tightness. I need so much if it’s gonna feel real and, well, it’s gonna take awhile if I keep getting… distracted…”

———————————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxight-blog @faretheeoscar

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |VIII| pirate!Eddie au

a/n - this was a struggle for me, so I have no idea how I managed to get this done so quickly. most likely due to all the fucking amazing support yall have given me, especially over the previous chapter. holy shit i could not ask for anything better <3 thank you

Series Masterlist

word count: 8.2k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near death experiences in water. pirates are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. mentions of sex work.

Chapter 8: Earthshine

“It took a special kind of madness to try to be a pirate and a good man at the same time.”

― Matt Myklusch, The Lost Prince

The ghost of her hand lingered with a sting over his cheek. The impact awakened him from a dream, but the kiss dragged him back. He was simply hanging there as if from a rope, ready to fall but anytime his body was prepared to hit the ground, a force pulled at him even harder and up and down his soul went. They both tasted of salt water and rum, yet she tasted sweeter, but perhaps “intoxicating” was a better word for it. His head was spinning at the sensation of her touch. He was stuck in a whirlwind, and her lips kept him anchored to the ground. 

Eddie let his hands fall to her hips, closing the cap between them. Her hand, which had marked his face moments before, now rested gently against his chest, nails digging into the material of his shirt. 

How long had he felt the need for this; for her? It was impossible to tell how deep within himself it had come from and how hard he had fought to erase it before, but there was no need to hide it now. The window was only so small, and who knows what would happen once closed. So, Eddie ensured everything he meant with that kiss reached her. No two human beings had ever been closer, tied together by something between them.

It was a heat, a hunger, growing larger by the second. A beast ready to devour everything in its path if not tamed. They might have stopped it if they had been aware of it. Perhaps not. Perhaps it was what they wanted all along.

His hands, steady on her, began to migrate over her hips, down her thighs, on her back. Her hand, meanwhile, trembled as it returned to its place on his cheek. The gentleness of her touch sent sparks through him, a feeling he had not encountered in a very long time and had never imagined to feel again. A kiss so simple and yet…

It was angry, wild, passionate, bold and forceful.

It was him and her. 

It was them. 

It could not have lasted longer than a few seconds, but it could have been a lifetime. He didn’t want it to end, ignoring that it eventually had to. Eddie would happily ignore the scream in his lungs to stay like this, but for once, he decided not to act selfishly. 

They still had eachother in their holds when he took the first breath. There was an interval when he opened his eyes, waiting for her to do the same. He saw how she breathed in his presence and let it sink into her. Then, when she finally opened her eyes, they were the brightest he had ever seen them be. Vibrant with life, stained with tears. Eddie had to compose himself not to show the pain it caused him to see her like that—something he had grown quite an expert in over the past few days. 

But what about the new pain that stung him when she stepped back, and her hand reached for her mouth in shock at what they had just done? He had a brief instinct to follow her and close that gap again, but instead, he doubled their distance. The same question rang through him, however.

What had they done? What did he do? The latter of the questions seemed to be a constantly more frequent thought of his since he had met her. Whatever he did, implied or not, always seemed to be the wrong choice. It constantly only led him deeper into a pit, and with each choice, the possibility of ever climbing out seemed less and less likely. To think that none of this was even supposed to happen. He should have kept his distance from the beginning, should have kept her away, but like any man, he was weak regarding his feelings. 

Was that what this was? Feelings? If asked, many would say he did not possess these. She would be one of them, and twistedly, it made him want to laugh.

He didn’t—laugh, move, or say anything. Neither did she. They looked at eachother, the two-step distance never seeming so great as it did in that moment. There was so much Eddie had wanted to say, to apologise for, and his lips were ready to speak with a light parting when the world returned to them with a slam to the door. With a blink, everything around them became that much more real, and there was no time to process anything. Whoever was on the other side of the door was becoming impatient, slamming their hand harder and harder, making the entire wall shake.

 ‘Come in!’ Eddie hated that the first words that came out of his mouth were this aggressive or that he couldn’t take his eyes away from her and, therefore, could see how she didn’t falter. Two pairs of eyes were locked into place. Only when the door opened to the sight of Harrington, drenched to the bone, did they move. 

Steve’s eyes wavered between them. How obvious was what had just occurred? Eddie felt like he was glowing, set on fire and burning bright. Was it guilt, embarrassment, pride or all of the above? 

Then all three of them stood motionless, observing the others, trying to read each other’s minds in this situation. 

Harrington was the one to break the silence, clearing his throat nervously like he knew his presence in the room was much unwished at that moment. ‘We’ll be arriving on Saint Claire shortly, cap.’

It cost Eddie longer than it should have to find a response, and the words he did come up with were sparse in meaning.

‘Right, yes, of course.’ He began to make his way over to the door when he stopped and turned to look her way, extending the passage with his arm. ‘After you.’

‘What?’ She looked at him in confusion. The one word sounded as if his suggestion was an offence, making Eddie feel hot in the neck. He was losing his grip on things, and this lack of control made his stomach twist. 

‘You are more than welcome to stay aboard, princess.’ Could they tell what he was thinking from the way he moved? Did the slightest twitch in his face or the scratch of his nose give away all his thoughts and insecurities? If so, neither of them did anything. Eddie waited for her to say something, reply with one of her usual snide remarks and try to argue with him. If she had done so, he honestly could not think of how to respond to it. How much longer could they keep performing this little charade? Especially after what had just happened. It was not as if he had planned for things to turn out as they had, but there was hope that some changes might take place between them now. 

Her response came in no shape of words but by her walking past Eddie and Steve, avoiding their bodies swiftly. Eddie followed suit, keeping some distance between her and himself, but Steve kept him up with one foot on the threshold.

‘Hey, you alright?’ He asked in a whisper, not wanting anyone to hear and with his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

‘It’s fine,’ Eddie shrugged him off. He glanced at the deck to see her standing against one of the masts, looking out at the island ahead. Eddie had not considered the gloom that the storm would bring over it.

‘What happened to your cheek?’ Steve let his chin point out to it, and Eddie immediately regretted his instinct to reach up to his face at the question. What was there to see? He could barely feel the rush from the impact anymore, and when he pulled his hand away, there was no blood, and he doubted a bruise would form, but maybe some redness had started to develop.

‘Nothing,’ he stiffened, dropping his hands quickly.

‘Eddie,’ Steve made another attempt, just to be cut off by his captain.

‘I said nothing, Harrington,’ Eddie pushed his way through. ‘Get back to your post. We’ll be docking soon.’ He walked away but just about heard Steve’s reply that, yeah, he knows. Hopefully, Steve could not hear Eddie’s sigh in relief from the cool rain on his skin. He had not thought that possible after the day's events, but he was slowly cooling down, especially when he met the midnight breeze, which felt good. At least the weather improved, but he still felt his insides twisting and turning like he was caught up in a hurricane. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he realised he had nowhere to go. He knew he should stay away from the one place he wanted to be. Again that feeling of lack of control took over him. He felt restless. Hopeless.

Eddie needed to get off this boat. He needed a drink. 

Saint Claire was a small island where people made money through fishing and the constant flow of ships that sailed into its humble harbour. Sailors from all corners of the world supplied the inhabitants with their dire need for food, entertainment and sex. This need resulted in the slow construction of Main Street, which spanned across the eastern coast, filled with taverns, hostels and other required necessities for anyone who might come across it. 

Some called it the Battleground for the amount of broken glass, furniture and other remaining scraps that are always left hanging around after the innumerable amount of fights that break out in the area. The sound of windows or bottles breaking bones was a common melody in the neighbourhood. 

Others called it the Flame, as the light inside the buildings never seemed to go out, no matter the time, pulling in customers like moths to a flame. No matter the time, the night stayed always young. The drinking and singing would not end until the sun rose above the sea, but even then, it was never really over. There was one brief window of peace on the island, somewhere around noon most times, when the ships in the harbour would set sail and make place for the new arrivals, ready for the chaos to start all over again.

For the Hellfire crew, however, Saint Claire was a safe haven. The island saw enough drunken brawls on the daily basis that it did not need to get involved in any of the politics of its neighbouring islands, let alone those further away, and so most shops and those upon it lost their authority the second they stepped a foot on the ground. Because of this, many were under the misconception that the island was a land of no rules, but on the contrary, it ruled under strict self-proclaimed laws, and those who would not abide would pay heavily. One way or another.

This resolved very few arguments between the island’s guests and caused many a fight, but in turn, it resulted in plenty of entertainment for those who happened to walk by or sit next to the fighting parties. Even though Eddie found himself to usually be involved in some capacity, he still found a great sense of enjoyment in it all. He could not read minds, doubted he even wanted to, and had no idea how his crew actually felt about all this, but there had not been any complaints yet in the span of their countless visits to the island.

It had been by pure chance that they had hit the storm while already nearing Saint Claire and that the harbour was just in their reach when things seemed to be tightening down on them. Once the waves had settled and Eddie had made sure that no one had been grievously injured, he made his round on the ship to see what exactly had been damaged. There was the broken barrier on the deck that now gaped out at the sea and was in need of mending. Then something about the angle at which the foremast stood did not sit right with him. It might have been a pre-existing problem or nothing at all, but someone had to check on it before it was too late. Miraculously, the lower deck had barely suffered besides some small leakage that had already been taken care of. In a way, Eddie thought that his office had gotten the worst blow by the small storm that had thrown all his belongings in disarray. He had meant to pick it all up, but how could he clean when she lay in his bed unconsciously. 

The sight of her like that made him sick. She could have listened to just this once, and they could have avoided… all of it, and then he wouldn’t be stuck pacing his ship in the way he was, doing his best to avoid everyone so he could clear his mind—

So, the other reparations would have to wait until the morning. It was late; they were all tired, as the battle against the storm had taken a toll on everyone. There was no use in working deep into the night and possibly making things even worse because of the exhaustion. Instead, they would go into town, drink themselves numb until the sun reappeared, and let the regret of their nocturnal choices set in nicely.

The hellfire sailed into the harbour, and the result of the storm in the town was immediately visible. Already from miles away, Eddie saw how unusually dull it looked. Everyone had gone inside to hide from the rain and wind and boarded up their windows to protect the fragile constructions. But at closer inspection, he saw the slivers of light fighting their way through the blanks and shining out to them like broken beacons.

Their arrival was nothing new, but the comfort of familiarity was missing in Eddie. He had never felt this on edge when stepping down from his ship onto the dock of Saint Claire, never this vigilant. The lack of light brought everything into a different perspective that he did not appreciate. Suddenly every quirk in the empty street seemed to be someone looking for trouble, and every sudden sound must have been a weapon. He kept looking around himself as the crew walked past the darkened buildings. He supposed it didn’t help that he saw at least three ships with royal crests on them, a usual announcement of trouble. But it wasn’t the darkness or the silence that had put his sense on sharp, not even the possibility of encountering any kind of enemy. It was her. Her presence made him that much more aware of all the dangers lurking around.

The reassurance finally came over him when the party reached the last building of the street—The General. It was one of the smallest taverns on the island and usually the least populated one, but nevertheless, it was one of the finest establishments  Edde had ever had the pleasure to visit in his rough lifetime. Walking in front of the rest, he was honoured with the task of opening the door.

As soon as he did so, before he even managed to take one step inside, he felt the wheeze of air pass him by as a bottle hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces at his feet. It could not have been more than an inch away from his ear. 

It was good to be back.

Just like he had expected, there were not many people inside; maybe two tables had been occupied—more than plenty of participants and observants for the fight that was on the verge of starting—when the crew arrived and filled the rest of the seats. Before anything could be said or demanded, a woman walked up, stylishly avoiding the wild limbs being thrown about by the earlier client. The impressive skill at which he had made her way through the room was only enhanced by the way in which she held half a dozen large ale tankards in her arms, all filled to the brim, and not one drop was spilt when she put them down at one of the tables. The party greeted her with a chorus of cheers, grabbing the drinks quicker than Eddie could manage to blink.

The barmaid was still looking down broadly at the few customers she so quickly managed to satisfy when she said, ‘Where is my money, Munson?’ with a matronly smile on her face.

‘Good to see you too, Joyce,’ Eddie leaned back in his chair.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Joyce rolled her eyes, the size of them making the expression that much more prominent to Eddie, and crossed her arms, unimpressed. ‘Spare me the formalities. You owe me, so pay up.’

Eddie had prepared for this exact exchange before he even realised that the Hellfire would make herself seen on the island, so he opted against fighting with the tavern owner and pulled out a leather pouch with a sigh. It jingled loudly at the smallest of movements.

‘There you go.’ He threw it to Joyce, who quickly caught it and immediately opened it to estimate whether the amount was anywhere near the agreed-upon amount. Seeing her do so, Eddie added: ‘Everything’s there, as promised, with enough spare to cover tonight.’

Joyce gave him a look that they would still see about that before looking around at what else the cat dragged into her place. A room filled with hooligans, drenched to the bone, sunk down into their seats, six of them already with their faces covered in her home-brewed ale. But nothing escaped Joyce, and she quickly noticed the newest addition to the party. Immediately, the hostess within Joyce sprung out. ‘Hi there, what I can get you, Honey?’ 

Eddie looked over. Of course, she sat down as far away from him as possible. He hadn’t expected anything less, really. She had found a spot next to Robin, on the opposite side of the room, and had made herself as small as possible among the crew. She gave it a moment before answering Joyce, clearly unsure how to approach the situation, but eventually smiled and simply refused the offer with a kind ‘I’m alright, thank you.’

‘You sure?’ Joyce raised a brow, but it was directed at Eddie, who had just grabbed himself one of the bowls of sunflower seeds. It was one of the reasons he decided to return to this particular tavern as often as he did. Joyce tended to roast them, so sometimes, they would still be warm when Eddie got his hands on them. He was in the middle of cracking one open when Joyce asked her the last question Eddie had wanted to hear here: ‘How’d you get involved with these guys, then?’

‘Rescued her from the pyre?’ Eddie mumbled against the sunflower pit, looking for the next one to eat, hoping his answer would be sufficient. In reality, it only half covered up the truth. 

‘I was taken from my ship.’ 

‘Your ship?’ Joyce pursued, much to Eddie’s dislike. Maybe she wouldn’t say it, but she’d just nod, and the conversation would move on. Either way, he could not interrupt anymore. If he would do so, he knew that Joyce would just shut him down before he even got a word in. 

‘The Red Tail.’ 

Eddie cringed but hoped no one would see it more as he accidentally bit his tongue… which was also the case. He was too occupied cursing everyone out in his mind than to think of the metallic taste pooling in his mouth. He glanced her way, but naturally, she wouldn’t meet his eye.

Did she know the lack of care Saint Claire has for outsiders? Did she expect anyone to ring an alarm bell for her? Or was she simply trying to embarrass Eddie in front of his crew—but maybe it's what he deserved. Still, he did not need his mistakes to be pointed out so blatantly to him, not in front of Joyce, out of all people. 

‘You don’t say,’ Joyce blinked slowly, turning her attention to Eddie, who decided it was best to stick to the bowl of pits for now and not look elsewhere. He did not need to see the way his friend tried to hide her anger. He just heard her say, ‘well, if you need anything, just let me know. And you—’ she spoke out to the rest, much harsher should be noted, ‘better keep it clean in here. Last time it took me four days to scrub up after you, and I will not be doing that again.’

There was an ensemble of mumbled apologies, which included Eddie. In the world, only a limited group of people held the power to make the Hellfire party feel bad for their actions. It was a short list that very recently just added a name to it, but at the top of it was undoubtedly Joyce. Her stance in front of them was enough of a message they had heard before that while she might not start any fights in her house, she could easily be the one to end them. Eddie had witnessed it enough times to know it to be entirely true. 

With one last disappointed look directed at the captain, one that Eddie wished he had missed because it made him feel like a small kid again, Joyce returned to the bar to serve up more drinks.

The first few minutes of the night were spent in exhausting sobriety and sparse conversation, but as more ale and rum was poured, the party livened up. Like usual, the chatter and laughter brought back their much-needed energy and everything that had happened on the boat that day was soon forgotten.

For the most part.

Much to no avail, no matter how many drinks went down his throat and how hard he tried to think about anything else, Eddie held back from the festivities—uncharacteristically so, as was pointed out by several. As much as he had hoped that the alcohol would wash everything away, he felt just as clear-minded as he had that morning when he woke up in the holding cell. At least his back did not hurt anymore. The kink in his neck would just not go away, no matter how hard he tried, but he had only himself to blame for that. 

Whatever he wanted to do that night,  he could not stop thinking about her. His attention kept wavering over to that one side of the room, where things seemed to be a bit calmer but just as enjoyable of a time as the rest was having. Eddie couldn’t tell what she was saying or doing as she had conveniently made sure to turn her back toward him at any given time, but from how relaxed she sat by, it all seemed… fine.

Out of all the things that had and could have happened, Eddie never imagined her sitting at the table with his sort—though he never believed he was that much different from any other man. But how had this happened? When did this happen? It was like the world had suddenly turned upside down, seeing her sit among his friends, his crew, wearing his clothes, talking. Laughing. Almost as if she belonged. 

Almost because he doubted she would consider herself one with the group, he didn’t blame her. This life was no one’s first choice. Certainly not his. And he could not let her fall into it now too. Not that she would, their journey would last no longer than a few more days, and then she’d be back home, and the Hellfire would never have to go near that place again. 

Eddie had really thought that it would be much easier after everything, but the thought of returning there brought a bitter taste into his mouth…or was that just a burned sunflower seed he had just consumed? He spat it out and washed his throat with rum, ignoring most of the things around him as he concentrated on the heavy feeling that the drink brought. 

‘Joyce!’ someone called out, but Eddie was not paying enough attention to notice who. ‘Where is the lute?’ However, the mention of the instrument pulled him out of the haze.

‘ ‘Where it always is!’ Joyce shouted back. The lute hung over their heads on the wall. Already knowing what direction this was going in, Eddie tried to protest. 

‘Can we not do this, gentlemen.’ He was not in any mood for a performance, but that did not matter. The next thing he knew, the strings were pushed into his arms, and everyone awaited with great expectations on what he would play. Eddie hesitated. His fingers were already on the right chords for the wrong song. He knew no one was interested in listening to it, but it was the only one he cared about right then. So, he let his hands flow freely, strumming the notes to be immediately met with disagreement.  

‘Not that one!’ 

‘Play something else!’ 

Right. He thought for a moment but mindlessly hit the strings until something coherent emerged. He didn’t even need to sing himself; the drunken state of his crew allowed them to do most of the work without a fault. He was just there for the show and that he could do. He hummed along as everyone else belted out the words from the heart. It was a silly song they had all come up with one starless night when the waters seemed to have taken them hostage. It was nothing specific, simply a song of monsters that groaned and heroes who overcame their battles without sweat. What they hoped to all be. Maybe one day. 

Playing the strings had always been like second nature to Eddie. He had been able to do it ever since he was a kid, which often brought him comfort. The repetitive motions gave him stability that his life so often lacked, so he focused on that as his eyes lost their focus on her. Had she been watching him? For a moment, he thought he had caught her looking. He must look stupid with this lute in his lap. He much rather preferred a gittern. The hold was more comfortable on that. 

He should have looked away by now. It would only make things worse if she caught him staring the way he was, but she was too occupied. There was so much going on, after all. Some of them had started moving tables around, creating a place to dance. Since when did they dance? Eddie wanted to laugh. Of course, when there was a lady present, when else? 

She tried to object to the invitations but eventually gave in and was pulled into the circle. The shirt was still too big on her, Eddie noticed. She had to keep pulling the sleeve up over her shoulder, and he had to do everything he could to stop thinking about how he wanted to pull it off her. All of it. If she could read minds, which sometimes Eddie genuinely thought she could, he would be a dead man walking. 

But if she could read minds, she must have been too occupied at that moment. Too busy dancing with the rest of the crew. It was similar to a waltz, but since Eddie doubted most of his men had properly rehearsed one in years, it was an awkward two-step at best. Not that it stopped anyone from having fun. She at least looked like she was enjoying herself. Eddie tried to recount if she had, after all, gotten a drink because this could not be the same woman who had been in his chambers earlier that day. Unless he was at fault for this change. 

He only lied to himself, pretending he had not messed with her. It wasn’t supposed to have been like this. Things just kept going wrong, and then he would panic, and the next thing he knew, he locked her in his bloody room for half a night or stabbed her in the ribs.

The sight of her bleeding still came back to him in his nightmares. As if they were not full of memories already, now she was there too. Covered in blood, and all because of him. She would scream until there was a sudden silence, and he’d hold her lifeless frame in his arms… just to wake up and hope that would be the last time his mind conjured the images up. 

It never was. 

Was he still playing? From the dancing around him, Eddie could only assume so. Surely if he had completely frozen up from his thoughts, someone would defrost him from his mental prison. But no one was paying any attention to him, too occupied by her. The way in which she moved freely around the room would put a smile on any man’s face, and Eddie certainly was one of them. How could he not? He should probably have looked away at some point, but he simply could not. And maybe it was for the better that he was so in awe with her, or he would have missed the brief moment when their eyes connected. He doubted she had meant to look his way, but she still had, and he could have sworn that her lips tightened their smile slightly higher, though it could have just been what he had wanted to see. A shadow playing nasty tricks with him. 

Robin, who must have had a few ales too many, was flailing her arms around, singing along drunkenly to the song Eddie played. It usually went exactly like this. Robin would drink, dance and force everyone to join her and “no” was not an acceptable answer in this circumstance. No one could disagree on the matter, not even Harrington, who sat outside the circle.

‘I invite King Steve to the floor,’ Robin demanded. The two women giggled next to each other before Robin went up to Harrington, who was still protesting and pulled him up by the arm. Eddie had to remind himself to keep up the tempo of the song, which was difficult when all he could hear was the blood pumping in his ears at the sight of him coming closer to her—realistically, Robin had pushed them into eachother, but all Eddie saw was the way he held her hand as they danced together. How he wished it could have been him with her. 

He did not know what stung so hard at seeing them together. There was no rational explanation, only the speed at which his heart raised with anger. And for what? He knew Harrington for years. They were like brothers and would sooner choose to die than hurt the other. Eddie could trust him with his life, so why could he not trust him with her? Why did he need to have that trust? What was it that made him lose all control around her? He just wished to understand his own mind.

As they kept dancing, Eddie had to force himself to look away, already feeling the same dark spark that had brought upon a fire that had nearly burned everything down before. All he could do was remind himself of what he had done to control himself. The memory of you lying on the ground, covered in blood that he had spilt. It was a dumb mistake that nearly cost him her life. 

He had never meant to touch her. It had all been a miscalculation of distance, combined with the sheer blindness of his emotions. The worst was he could not even remember lashing out with the sword. One moment he stood there, watching Steve hold her, seeing her laugh at something he had said and the next, she screamed out in pain. He had tried to stop her, wanting to apologise. He had wanted to run after her, but what good would that have done? Eddie couldn’t think straight.

It was Steve that pulled him out of it. 

‘Eddie!’ He had shouted. ‘What were you thinking?’ To which Eddie had no response because, simply, he wasn’t thinking. It took him too long to regain a grip on his mind, and he took one of the bottles that stood next to the dice table. At first, he had just wanted to drink it all, down it in one go, but he thought of her lying there with the wound— it needed to be cleaned. It took everything in him to get down there, knowing he was most likely the last person she would have wanted to see, and that was quickly proven right.

Words failed him in every sense, so he left before he could make it even worse, but the damage had already been done. He returned to his cabin and immediately noticed a difference. He was sure he had removed most of the paper from his desk the night before, yet the ground was spotless.

She had cleaned up for him. 

Eddie screamed out, and his fist hit the side of the wardrobe. Splinters embedded themselves into his skin as he screamed, letting out all the frustrations he felt about himself.

‘What is wrong with you?’ Eddie heard behind him.

‘You’re the last person I want to see right now, Harrington.’ He didn’t turn around to face him, just walked straight to his desk. He noticed the drawer was open, his letter on top of the bottles, but there was too much going on in his mind to be angry at that as well. For now, at least. 

‘Am I to believe you’re angry at me?’ Steve scoffed as he entered the room.

‘What if I am?’

‘Why? Because I stopped her fall? Talked to her? Because you nearly impaled her.’ As far as felonies went, Eddie was taking the crown on that one. He leaned his head down into his lap. 

‘You know I didn’t mean to—’ he cursed. ‘I don’t know what came over me.’ He couldn’t admit to Steve that the sight of them together had struck a nerve. He was supposed to be better than that. Do better. He really thought he was doing better.

He had no idea where his next question came from.

‘Do you like her?’ 

‘Excuse me?’ Steve was taken aback. 

‘Do you like her? Or are you just trying to—’ The idea of Steve taking advantage of her boiled his blood. 

‘You’re going insane, Ed.’ Steve quickly stopped him, speaking as calmly as he could. ‘We both know she’s not just some girl, and I think she deserves better than what we’ve been treating her like. This situation is messed up, but we could try to make her feel better, not like a prisoner. 

‘But if you want me to back off, fine. I’ll let her be. See how that goes, but don’t think about screwing me over when it all blows up in your face.’ He had warned him before walking out again with only one more thing to say. ‘And Munson,’ 

‘What?’ Eddie stopped looking at his hand, which had gone bright red now from the impact of the wardrobe. Steve’s eyes were filled with sadness, exasperation.

‘I’m not him. Just remember that.’

And Eddie did his best in doing so. He could trust Steve but could not let go of things that quickly. It was, after all, the past that made you who you are. Mankind is shaped by memories, and Eddie had too many of those. He wished he could just forget everything and start over, but what would be the point of anything if it was that simple. 

His fingers began to hurt, as well as his head. Whether it was the music he was told to play or his head sobering up, he had had enough for now and handed the lute to the man sitting next to him. It wasn’t anyone from his crew, just another customer, most likely an islander. The man grinned at him with a toothy grin before starting to pluck away at the strings. There had been a slight whine from the rest in the second the music had stopped, but as it resumed, it was all forgotten. Eddie approached Joyce, but not before snatching away another bowl of sunflower seeds from a table. When he arrived at the countertop, she was already pouring him a pint of ale. 

‘So what’s the story here, then?’ She asked as she watched him down the drink in one go. 

‘There is no story,’ he said once he put the cup down, out of breath, already signing to her to pour another. She looked unimpressed but grabbed the tankard anyway.

‘So I am to believe nothing is going on between you and— and her.‘ She said it with so much meaning behind the one word, and since it was them, Eddie understood all of it. 

Joyce’s big eyes had always been intense. When she looked at you, she looked down deep into your soul, unlocking all your secrets with just that one glance. Which is perhaps why Eddie did his best to avoid looking at her too much. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Boy, you really do exhaust me.’ Joyce sighed. ‘Don’t make me point out the obvious.’ She placed down the next drink, and Eddie took it slow this time, only sipping small amounts at a time. Joyce knew that there was nothing else she could get out of him on this matter, but there was so much else she needed to talk about.

‘How did she get on your ship, anyway?’

‘You heard her.’ Eddie didn’t want to explain it. Not to Joyce. He hated repeating himself. So, he took a handful of sunflower seeds and began to occupy himself with those.

‘Yes, I did. The Red Tail. What happened to it?’ 

‘Do you have any more complaints I should take care of?’ He tried to change the subject, and failed at it miserably.

‘No.’ Joyce still answered him quickly before returning to her question. ‘What happened to the Red Tail? What did you do?’

‘Exactly what I told you I would.’ He cracked open another seed. ‘And see how it’s worked out well so far?’ 

Joyce had been leaning against the counter, but at the sound of Eddie’s words, she took a step back, disbelief written all over her face. ‘Eddie…’ 

‘That’s Captain Munson to you,’ he snickered, but she was too used to his attempts at lighting the mood at the worst of moments. And when that didn’t work, there was only one other thing Eddie knew how to do. 

Joyce didn’t even get to finish her question. Eddie got up as her words faded into a weak ‘Is he…’

He just about managed to say his last words before they got lost in the chaos of the party. ‘He got what he deserved. They all did.’ 

More people must have entered The General because surely this crowd did not come solely from the Hellfire, excluding the handful of local drunks.  They must have come in as the music had started. No one in Saint Claire could pass on such an occasion, causing a large commotion. As the door opened and closed constantly, only welcoming more people in, it was suddenly packed from wall to wall. Eddie felt an elbow in his side as he tried to return to his seat, spilling the ale right onto himself. In response, he threw the tankard toward where the arm must have come from, not caring if he had hit the right person, quickly making himself scarce before the person currently cursing out realised it was him to be the perpetrator.

His previous seat was, naturally, already taken. The dancing had stopped as there was no longer space for it unless they decided to get up onto the tables—a most likely option if given a few more drinks. But neither that nor the stain seeping through his shirt was a problem to Eddie. 

‘Where is she?’ he asked, but no one could hear him. He tried again, louder, directing his voice to the crew closest to him. They all shrugged one after the other. How could someone disappear into thin air while surrounded by dozens of people with no witnesses? How did none of his men bother to keep an eye on her?

Finally, Eddie caught sight of Robin, slouched back in a chair, giggling. 

‘I think she—’ Robin’s eyes couldn’t stay focused, and she kept slipping into laughter. ‘I think she went to get some air—as if there is no air in here?’ She laughed. As a matter of fact, the room was only getting hotter, and it was becoming harder to breathe. 

Was that because of a lack of fresh air, however, or was the tight feeling in Eddie’s chest coming from somewhere else entirely? He pushed his way through the crowd to the door. 

It had stopped raining, but the wind had only picked up since the crew entered the tavern. Some buildings had taken off the boards from the windows, illuminating the street with the candlelight from inside, but for the majority, everything was lit by the moon’s silver glow, and barely at that. Anything outside of Main Street was a dark abyss. Surely, she wouldn’t have dared to wander off toward the forest?. Eddie could describe her in many ways, none of which would suggest she was stupid enough to risk her life out there. Who knew what roamed around in the trees and caves. 

For good measure, although not expecting much of a response, he called out her name as he walked down Main Street. Every time he passed by a tavern or inn, he considered walking inside, just to check if she, by any chance, decided to do as well, but he could not think of reasons why she would have.

‘Can we help you, handsome?’ A woman’s voice called out to him. Eddie turned around to meet two women standing outside one of the taverns. Their black dresses were tightened to accentuate their frames and push up their breasts, making them impossible to miss, no matter how hard one tried. They smiled suggestively until they realised who they had approached. ‘Oh, Munson, it’s you.’

‘Tabitha,’ Eddie was glad to see her for once, ‘did you by any chance see a woman walk by here?’

‘Why? Who is she? Another one of your little conquests?’ Her eyes narrowed into accusatory slits, and her large lips formed a sour pout.

‘Tabbie, sweetest, don’t be like that.’ if Tabitha were to explode like she often had the tendency to do, then Eddie had no time to resolve it, so the best solution was to just try and stick to her sweet side, like a fly caught in honey. He glanced at the other woman beside Tabitha, but she did not seem interested in the old lovers' squabble. If that is even what he could call it.

‘You had promised you would come back.’ Tabitha whimpered.

‘And I did.’ Eddie did not have the patience for this. 

‘To break my heart!’ Her voice came out in high-pitched squeaks. 

‘Now, c’mon, we both knew it wasn’t meant to be.’ The next thing he knew, he felt a harsh sting across his face. The second slap he received that night. The rings on Tabitha’s face only added to the pain, but somehow he didn’t feel it as deep as the first one he received. ‘Do you feel better now?’ He sighed.

Tabitha shrugged, crossing her arms. 

‘So, the girl, did you see her? She was wearing a shirt, trousers…’ he tried to describe her. 

‘Oh, her.’ Tabitha grimaced. ‘Yeah, I saw her. Think she was making her way down to the harbour. Was with some guy. They were talking about one of the ships.’ 

‘What guy?’ This could not be happening. 

‘How should I know. He looked a bit stuck up, if you ask me. A bit like you did once.’ She laughed, and her friend joined her sheepishly. None of this sounded good to Eddie. He thanked them, this time without making Tabitha any drunken promises, and ran as fast as his legs could take him to the harbour. How could he have been so stupid? So careless. He let her go out of sight for a minute, and now, just like that, she was gone. Or it would be if he didn’t get there in time. Maybe he could still catch her?

There were many ships in the Saint Claire harbour, the Hellfire, of course, being the most beautiful of them all, and it should have been challenging to figure out which boat she could be on. It should have taken Eddie ages to realise which ship he was looking for, except only one had opened its sails and created a significant distance between itself and the shoreline. Its silhouette was a black wraith against the moon. 

Eddie’s body deflated. He felt so numb from the shock he barely felt himself falling to his knees. It was over. Just like that, she was gone. He wanted to scream, and maybe he had even done so. It was too much of a blur. All his thoughts merged into that all too familiar and seething whirl of anger. 

How had he been able to do this? None of this was supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to be on board that damned ship. They should not have taken her with them. Not locked her up, shunned her out or scared her off. He shouldn’t have done any of them. Maybe it was good he let her escape, but one thing he would never forgive himself for. 

He should never have fallen for her.

He had known better and yet let it happen just like that. How stupid could he have been? At least he could not think of a better punishment for himself than having to live with these thoughts, the regret, for the rest of his life. 

The sand dug into him through his trousers, and he was ready for it to swallow him whole. He would have stayed there if it wasn’t for his crew. Maybe they were too drunk to miss him now, but they needed Eddie. Just as much as he needed them. He couldn’t just abandon them because of his issues. He had brought them into enough trouble because of them as it is. He just had to get over it for their sake. There was nothing he could do anymore but move past it and hope he would forget someday. 

It took some more time for him to be able to walk again. His legs carried him back to his ship, too tired to make his return through Main Street to The General. He had just about enough energy to grab a bottle and sink into it before sinking into his bed. 

It was ridiculous. He knew it. Eddie Munson, captain of the Hellfire, vanquisher of the seven seas… if people could only see him now. Drunk. Exhausted. Alone. Heartbroken.

Funny how history tended to repeat itself.

He threaded the plank up to the ship, keeping his balance as best as possible. His steps were getting heavier with each one he took. There were days when he could have stayed in his quarters for hours, locked away from the world, reading, writing, calculating new routes or decoding more of the cryptic messages he had found in his books. He’d had people give him reminders to come out for meals at times. But now, with everything in there that reminded him of her, how could he go about his days like normal?

How could he be so stupid?

How could he be so stupid to leave a fire burning inside? All it took was one spark, and it could burn everything down. The sight of the candle burning through the strained glass of the door made him speed up his walk up the stairs. Eddie walked in to see the damage, but there was none.

One single candle illuminated the room as best it could, leaving the rest in its shadows, which moved about with the flickering of the light. Despite Eddie having spent hours in the room, having placed every single item inside it, knowing it like the back of his hand, in the dark, it all felt brand new. It was like the darkness was watching him. 

Except that wasn’t it.

On the contrary, suddenly, it was as if the sun had burst inside him. 

Eddie didn’t dare blink, scared that if he moved, she would disappear. Because what else could it be but some kind of hallucination or a dream he would wake up from much too soon. 

‘I thought you had left.’ Against all his willpower, he blinked, but when he opened his eyes again, she still stood there in front of him, and it really was her, only a few feet away, here in his cabin. 

‘I wanted to.’ Her voice was weak, much like he felt at that moment.

‘Then why didn’t you?’ 

‘I don't know.’

Chapter 9 - 18+ version

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging. I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P

you are also more than welcome to join the Eddie Munson taglist. right here.

taglist (part 1)

@nope-thanks @seventhlevelofhell @strangerfreak @hangmanscoming @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @vintagehellfire @raven-rust @eddiesguitarskills @taccobelle @imjusteddietrashatthispoint @lunar-corgimon

@dorianelizabeth @theletterhart@pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreader @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @wroteclassicaly @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington

[xddaengx]

just peachy ⎜ l.sm + j.ww

✧ Pairings: Seokmin x afab!Reader ⎜Wonwoo x afab!Reader

✧ Genre:  Romance ⎜ Smut ⎜ Fluff ⎜ Love Triangle ⎜

✧ Warnings: mentions of verbal abuse ⎜ aggressive ex seungcheol ⎜ sorry cheol, someone had to be the bad guy ⎜sick seokmin ⎜desperate sex ⎜unprotected sex ⎜ missionary ⎜ gentle wonwoo ⎜slight angst ⎜sweetest sunshine seokmin ⎜ she/her pronouns ⎜

✧ Word Count: 13.2k

✧ Summary: They wriggled their way into your life - they're your best-friends - what are you meant to do when your feelings grow for both of them?

✧ Author’s Note: I decided to repost this as one long part instead of splitting it up as a series! Hope you enjoy! Please feel free to give feedback :)

(UNEDITED)

You remember when you first met them. 

The dark haired boy sitting near the back of the lecture hall, his glasses sitting low on his nose as he flicks his way through the textbook. You look around to the other students who group together, all catching up about their summer break. 

You take a glance at the pens besides him on the desk. One highlighter and one pen - he had some sticky notes too but they were tucked in the back of his book. His notebook was open to the right of the large hunk of paper, his messy scribbles already on the page. You glance around at the room again before taking a step towards the empty seat besides him. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You question the boy barely looking away from his page as he nods his head.

“I’m waiting for someone.” He says quickly, and you nod your head with understanding. 

“Oh, no problem, sorry for bothering you.” You rush to say, moving quickly to step away from the desk, your cheeks already a tinge darker than before. You don’t notice the man behind you until his hands are gripping your shoulders keeping you upright. 

“Who could you possibly be bothering, peach?” The voice says from behind you as his soft chuckle whispers across the back of your neck. He shoots his friend a short glare from over your shoulder before letting go of you, stepping around your body. 

“She wanted to sit in your spot.” The dark haired man says to the newcomer, his gaze finally shifting from his textbook. “I said I was waiting for someone.” He adds, his friend shaking his head slowly, looking over his shoulder at you before back to his friend. 

“You could’ve moved down a seat, Wonwoo.” The man shakes his head once more before turning around to face you. “We are gonna sit over there, away from this idiot.” The man says, pointing over to the empty seats on the row to the right, marching his way over and taking the second seat, leaving the aisle seat open for you. He waits for you to follow before patting the seat next to himself. You look towards the dark haired man who looks at his friend with a glare before moving to sit besides the kind newcomer. 

“My names Seokmin.” He introduces himself, smiling as you manage to sputter out your own name. “I think we are going to be good friends.” He says softly, looking over to his still glaring friend, “All three of us.” 

+

+

Much to Wonwoo’s disapproval you can’t seem to get Seokmin to detach himself from you. He brings you everywhere he and Wonwoo go, he even added both their numbers to your phone after the first lecture just in case you needed any help going over the material. 

“Wonwoo is like the smartest person here.” Seokmin beamed as he guided you out of the lecture hall one afternoon. The professor has spent almost half the lesson discussing how he was unimpressed by most of the essays recently handed in. “Maybe he can help us both.” Seokmin adds softly, quickly glancing over his shoulder hoping his friend hadn’t heard him. 

“That’s a nice offer, Min, but my essay was fine.” You respond, trying to detangle your arm from his.

“What do you mean?” He asks and you shrug. 

“I got a hundred so I assume mine was fine.” You answer again, Seokmin stopping in his place, staring at you with wide eyes, gaping mouth. 

“You a hundred? Like a hundred percent?” He questions and you nod again. “That’s higher than Wonwoo.” He whispers, leaning forwards towards your ear, “He only got a ninety-five.” Seokmin lets out a low chuckle as Wonwoo catches up to the two of you, glancing at his friend in confusion. 

“Guess I’ve got a new smartest best friend.” Seokmin says in a teasing tone, his smile brightening as Wonwoo flicks his stare to you in surprise. He nods at you once before walking past the still teasing Seokmin, his arm slung over your shoulder with pride. 

Wonwoo seemed to look at you differently after that, he didn’t roll his eyes when you took out your pastel highlighters and novelty pens. He glanced over at your notes every time you wrote down something he didn’t find to be particularly important during the lecture. He listened closer every time you explained something about the lecture that Seokmin didn’t understand. 

His friend was right, you were smart. 

“Can I borrow a highlighter?” Wonwoo leaned slightly towards you, his bright orange highlighter leaving broken streaks against his page, the pen clearly out of ink. Seokmin has made it clear he liked you sitting in the middle after your first class together - he said that way ‘the smartest in the group’ can help both of them. 

“Yeah, of course.” Your eyes are wide as Wonwoo looks down at your multi colour page, your love for making your notes look like something from an aesthetic study YouTube video amusing to the two men besides you. You sprawl all of your highlighters onto the desk between you and Wonwoo, hoping he would just take one and stop looking at you so intensely. 

“You know, blue is great for productivity, it’s a soothing colour so it makes it easier to want to look back on your notes - Green is also good cause its easy on the eyes.” You note as Wonwoo finally breaks his gaze, his eyes taking in the large selection of colours. He nods slowly at your words, picking up a mint green and sky blue highlighter. “I prefer pastel colours cause they’re not as abrasive as the neon ones.” You add, just wishing you could stop talking for once in your life. 

“The neon ones usually hurt my eyes when I study.” Seokmin notes from besides you, his smile wide as he flashes the baby pink highlighter you gifted him a few weeks ago. “This one is much better.” Wonwoo just nods looking down at the two pens in his hand before glancing back at the pile. 

“Do you mind if I borrow one more?” He questions and you nods quickly motioning for him to take whatever he wants. 

“You can keep them - I have a spare pack at home.” You note, cringing slightly as your ex boyfriends words ring through your head. 

‘What kind of idiot spends all their money on stationary.’ He used to hiss as he found the plastic bag filled with new pens tucked under some clothes in the closet. 

“Thank you.” Wonwoo says softly as he picks up a peachy orange highlighter tucking the two cool coloured pens into his small pencil case, the orange one gripped tightly in his hand.  

The days became routine for the three of you. 

You’d meet the two friends at the campus cafe twenty minutes before class everyday, the two of them usually saving you a seat on one of the benches, coffee cup already on the table waiting for you. 

Usually you and Seokmin would walk in front, arms linked together tightly and you gossip about the recent celebrity news, leaving Wonwoo to follow behind watching the two of you. But recently Wonwoo couldn’t help but widen his strides, falling into step besides you as he sandwiched you in between the two of them. 

He wanted to listen to your opinions on the gossip, and for some reason found himself dropping his gaze every time you glanced over to him. He could feel the shiver running down his spine, when you laugh your eyes flicking to the both of them to make sure they were laughing too. 

Usually Wonwoo wasn’t but sometimes anyone could see the small, shy grin spreading on his lips. 

Seokmin always noticed. 

Shooting a knowing grin at his friend. 

“So, we’re a trio now.” Seokmin says one afternoon, you had a meeting with the volunteering committee for a position as the TA in the freshmen literature classes, so you were late to meet them at the usual cafe. Seokmin glances at the empty seat in between himself and his friend, your iced chocolate sitting on the table in front of the chair. 

“I guess.” Wonwoo says. 

“She pretty great, isn’t she?” Seokmin pries, he wants to see where his friends head was at, but Seokmin knew a crush when he saw one.

“I guess.” Wonwoo repeats, but the soft blush raising up the back of his neck said enough. Seokmin just smiled at his friend knowingly. The two of them glanced up as you rushed into the cafe, apologising for being so late, you didn’t think the interview would go so long. 

Seokmin recognised the brightness that glistened in Wonwoo’s eyes as you walked into the cafe.

He recognised the heaviness that lifted off his friends shoulders when you waved hello at them. 

He recognised the way Wonwoo watched you. 

It was the same way he watched you. 

“It’s fine, Wonwoo and I were just having a chat about some very important things.” Seokmin teased, Wonwoo’s neck deepening in colour, you raised you eyebrow expectantly at Seokmin, expecting him to catch you up on the important thing. “Don’t worry, it was just about one of our roommates Mingyu, nothing for you to worry about.” Seokmin adds, watching as Wonwoo turns away from the two of you grabbing his bag and trudging his way out of the cafe. 

“What wrong with him today?” You ask and your friend just shrugs, handing you your half melted drink, his hand reaching out for your own as you follow behind your rushed friend.

+

+

It was flu season. 

Seokmin has texted you earlier in the morning to let you know he wouldn’t be going to class today. His roommate Mingyu has been spreading the flu around and unfortunately Seokmin had managed to catch it. 

‘Wonwoo is still going to class - he’ll meet you at the cafe after picking up some cold and flu meds for me and gyu.’ Seokmin had messaged and you replied with a thumbs up. You order yours and Wonwoo’s normal drinks, asking for two blueberry muffins as well, taking a seat at the table in the corner, your note books already sprawled across the surface. 

You can’t help the way your head lifts every time the door opens with a jingle, waiting for your distant friend to walk through the door. This time your gaze freezes as a broad shouldered man walks into the cafe, chuckling with the man following closely behind him. 

“Fuck.” You hiss as you make quick swipes on your phone. 

PEACHES🍑: SOS!!

Your text is quickly seen by both of the members of your group chat. Seokmin sending question marks in return, your fingers starting to type on the screen as your ringtone sounds in your AirPods. 

‘WONU 🐱 IS CALLING’  You quickly swipe to answer the call, not knowing what to say as you keep your eyes pinned on your ex boyfriend ordering at the counter. 

“What’s going on?” Wonwoo’s voice rings through your earphones, your breathing becoming more rapid as you avert your gaze from your ex. “Are you okay?” He asks again his voice soft, but sounding panicked as you glance up again. 

“Seungcheol is here.” You manage to whisper, trying to hide your face as you see your ex glance around the cafe, looking for somewhere to sit. You make the mistake of glancing up his eyes meeting yours as they light up with recognition. “He’s coming over here, Wonwoo what do I do?” You panic, Wonwoo swearing under his breath as you hear some shuffling on the other end. 

“Look I’ll be right there, pack up your stuff and meet me outside.” He says quickly as you nod to yourself, before hearing the phone hang up. 

You jump in surprise as you feel the cold hand pull one of your AirPods out of your ear. You glance up at the man standing besides your table.

You wish it was Wonwoo standing there. 

“Seungcheol?” You question as you pull out your other AirPod, your pen dropping to the table as you look at your ex-boyfriend in mock surprise. He shoots you a crooked grin, dropping your earphone on the table, before tucking his hands in his pockets. 

“I still your still obsessed with those silly little pens.” He comments, his gaze flicking down at the ballpoint pen sitting on your notebook, the small butterfly adorning the top of the pen. Your own gaze flicks down at the pen before back at the large man in front of you. 

Seokmin has bought you this pen. 

“What are you doing here?” You question, Seungcheol scoffing in response. 

“I go to school here.” He says as if it was obvious. 

“No, I mean right here, standing next to me.” You respond, your hands shaking softly as you reach for the pen he had just made fun of, needing something to keep you grounded as you ex rolls his eyes. “You said you’d leave me alone.” You whisper, glancing around the cafe hoping someone would notice the discomfort in your posture. 

“I just wanted to talk.” He begins, trying to pull out the chair in front of you, wanting to take a seat at your table. Your eyes widen in panic, you know how Seungcheol’s talks usually went, and you didn’t want to be involved in one today. Your eyes glance around the cafe, desperately searching for your friend. 

Seungcheol moves to sit down as you stand frozen at your table, trying to will your body into moving away from him, to do what Wonwoo said and pack up your stuff. 

But you can’t. 

The chair is ripped out from behind Seungcheol, the man managing to catch himself before he falls to the ground, his head whipping to glance behind him in surprise ready to scold whoever was interfering, his gaze pausing and slowly trailing up as he meets Wonwoo’s glare. 

“This is my seat.” Wonwoo grumbles, pushing the chair further away from your ex, his body squeezing in between your small table and the surprised imposer. Seungcheol glances between the taller man and your slightly trembling body. 

“I see what this is.” Seungcheol starts, glaring at you before letting out a disbelieving scoff. “I thought you’d want to sort things out but I guess you have other plans now.” He continues, looking up at Wonwoo one last time before taking a step back. 

You can see Wonwoo’s step to the side, hiding you from view as your ex tries to get you to make contact with him. 

“Just go.” Wonwoo hisses out, the man’s eyebrows raising in surprise at the firm turn, trying to glance over the larger man’s shoulder before taking a step back, throwing his hand up in defeat. 

You let out a soft breath as he walks away, trying to talk yourself through your calming motions before letting out a harsh sigh, shoving your pens into your pencil case and trying to shove everything into your bag as quickly as possible. 

“I have to go.” You say quickly to Wonwoo, not turning to look at him, as you zip your backpack closed, trying to hide the slight tremble in your hands, as you swing your bag over your shoulder.

“Are you okay? Did he do anything? ” Wonwoo asks softly, his hand lightly gripping your wrist as you try to squeeze past him, your body stopping as his eyes glance over you quickly. 

 “Seokmin told me a little bit about him.” Wonwoo continues, his gaze watching you carefully, almost like he was waiting for you to burst out in tears. 

You wanted to. 

“Seokmin said and I quote ‘if we see him it’s on sight’.” Wonwoo adds, a smile gently raising on his lips as one lifts on yours, a tear dropping off your waterline. Wonwoo sighs softly, lifting his hand to wipe the tear off your cheeks gently, his thumb stroking softly against the skin before dropping it back to his side. 

“Don’t let him get to you, he’s just mad that he lost someone as special as you are.” Wonwoo mumbles, checking you over once more before grabbing your drinks from the table, ushering you outside the busy cafe. 

The two of you walk together in silence, your breathing settling as the cold autumn air strokes your face, soothing your burning cheeks. 

“Maybe you should call Seokmin later, he’d be better at this than I am.” Wonwoo mentions, his body sticking close to yours as you nod softly, continuing to take long slow breaths. 

“Thank you for coming.” You mumble back, the rest of your walk to your designated classroom passing in silence, Wonwoo scolding himself for his lack of social skills, wanting nothing more than to find the right words to comfort you. 

+

+

It has been three days without the third in your trio. Wonwoo had mentioned that Seokmin went to the doctors and was told he had a chest infection and wouldn’t be returning for the rest of the week. 

“Does he need anything? I have the afternoon off, I can bring him some soup, or vitamins or new socks.” You ask Wonwoo, the man looking at you with a raised eyebrow at your last suggestion, letting out a soft chuckle as you shake your head. 

“Never mind.” You huff, turning away from the tall man. 

“Actually, I have a shift this afternoon and was going to pick up some groceries for min and min, maybe you could grab them for me?” Wonwoo says quickly, your body spinning to face him with excitement. 

“Anything to help.” Wonwoo smiles, and rifles through his backpack, pulling out a set of keys and his wallet. 

“Use this card to pay, I’ll text you a list of things they need, feel free to buy yourself a snack or something too.” Wonwoo starts, before handing you his keys. “These should let you into the main building - the code for the door is zero-zero-zero-one, apartment seventeen.” He adds, and you nod, mouthing the words a few times so they stick in your memory. 

“Thank for this, it was stressing me out a little trying to juggle everything.” Wonwoo mumbles, his hand patting your hair lightly. You nod slowly, waving goodbye as he hurries off to his work in the administrations office. 

Your phone buzzes shortly after, a small list of groceries popping up on your screen. ‘Thanks again. If I don’t see you tonight, I’ll meet you in our spot tomorrow.’ Wonwoo’s message said, your face burning a little at the thought. 

Our spot. 

You knew the three boys lived in a student housing apartment just off campus, the rent prices slightly discounted to help the broke students. The three had managed to snag the apartment together when Mingyu took over the lease from an older friend. 

You shuffle the bags in your hand around, to pull the set of keys wonwoo gave you out of your pocket, flashing the small black tag against the scanner, the door swinging open with a buzz. You let out a short groan at the sight of the stairs in front of you, the elevator having a large ‘out of order’ sign plastered over the front. 

You shuffle the bags again until the weight distributed more comfortably, making the trek up the stairs

The forty seven stairs.  

You counted. 

zero-zero-zero-one, your repeated the numbers till you got to the door, the number  “17” in silver beside the door. You slowly punched the numbers into the door, with your thumb, sighing in relief as the door beeped, the knob turning as you pushed it open. 

“Thank god.” You groaned as you dropped the bag by the front door, sliding your shoes off in the entryway, turning around the quietly close the door behind you. 

“Wonwoo?” An unfamiliar voice calls from down the hall, you freeze, hearing the heavy footsteps walking down towards you. 

“Wonwoo asked me to bring you guys some groceries.” You spit out quickly as the large man comes into view. 

You had seen photos of Mingyu on the boys instagram. Though they didn’t really do him justice. 

The man was huge, much taller than your two friends, his biceps probably the size of your head. He watches you pick up the groceries bags with a soft smile of amusement, before rushing forwards to grab the heaviest off the floor. 

“I’ll show you to the kitchen, you can just dump them on the floor.” Mingyu says, his voice was clearly affected by his cold, the words coming out raspy and soft. You can hear Mingyu let out a crackling cough as you reach the kitchen, the man turning to you with wide eyes. 

“It’s not covid, I swear.” He puts his hands up in defence and you laugh. 

“Good to know.” You respond, before glancing down the hallway to where the bedrooms appeared to be. “Is the other min here?” You question. 

“Yeah, in his room.” Mingyu says, slapping your hands away as you try to unpack the groceries. “I can do that, you should check on him, he’s been a sad sack all week stuck in bed.” He adds, and his smile grows when you nod, moving towards one particular bag, pulling out two bottles of  hand squeezed juice. 

“You should drink this, my mum always said fresh lemonade helped clear the throat.” You say as you hand mingyu a bottle of the juice, giving him a smile as he mumbles a thanks, taking a sip of the sweet and sour liquid. 

“I feel better already.” Mingyu jokes, ushering you down the hallway. “Second door on the left.” He shouts after you, and you throw up an okay sign to show you heard him. 

Your feet shuffle down the hallway, the sound of a TV echoing under the closed door with a bright yellow sunflower poster taped to the door. 

"Fitting." You mumble. 

You lift your hand and knock lightly, the other hand gripping the juice bottle. You hear your best friends hoarse voice respond, your hand turning the door knob, squeezing your way into the room, trying to avoid letting too much light into the very dark room. 

“Min?” You question in the dark room, you hear shuffling before the lamp light switches on, a sweaty, shirtless Seokmin sitting up on the bed. “Oh, I didn’t mean to take you by surprise.” You say quickly, moving to exit the room. 

“Peach?” He questions, your gaze snapping back towards him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he slumps back against the headboard. 

“You look really bad, min.” You note, taking a step forwards until you can place your hand gently on his forehead. “You have a fever.” You note again, Seokmin just leaning into the touch of your cold hand. The sweat glistening over his body seems to make more sense now at the burning fever on the boys skin. 

“Why are you here?” Seokmin questions, his eyes closing for a minute, enjoying the soft way you push the sweaty hair off his forehead, enjoying the way you dote on him. 

“Wonwoo asked me to get you guys some groceries while he’s at work. He said you were sick but he didn’t say you were this sick.” You sigh, stepping away from Seokmin, the man letting out an upset whine at loosing your touch on his burning skin. 

“I’m going to get you a cold face washer, drink this.” You say, handing him the cold lemonade, the man letting out a grateful groan as the liquid touches his tongue. You swing open his bedroom door, rushing down the hallway to Mingyu still unpacking the groceries. 

“Do you guys have any aloe vera?” You question, Mingyu nodding quickly, pulling the cooling cream out of the fridge. “Wheres the bathroom?” You ask and Mingyu directs you to the first door on the right, explaining where everything is. 

“What about you?” You question, not wasting time in standing on your tippy toes, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead. “Good, no fever.” You hum, pulling your hand away from the large man who watches you in surprise. 

“Have you been taking cold and flu?” Mingyu nods quickly. 

“Keeping yourself hydrated?” Mingyu nods again. 

“Good, now go sit in the sun and get some vitamin D, no wonder you’re all so sick, this house is like a dungeon.” You scold, Mingyu mocking a salute with a wide grin before going to open the curtains in the lounge room, plopping himself on the floor in front of the window. 

You grab the face washer from under the sink, soaking it in cold water, before wringing it out and bringing it and the aloe vera cream into Seokmin’s bedroom, closing the door behind you. 

“I’m gonna open the curtains just a little to let some light in.” You warn the boy, who is lying on the bed, his arm draped over his eyes. He just nods, too tired to put up any fight, he can feel the sun enter the room. You glance at his bedside table, the empty bottle on lemonade thrown on the top. 

You glance over the man and his bedroom, a face washer wasn’t going to do the trick. “When was the last time you showered?” You question softly, dabbing at the sides of his face with the cold fabric, a small shudder running through his body at the sensation. 

“A few days ago, it’s too hard to stand up for that long.” He says quietly, he can’t help the way the red on his neck spreads like wildfire, the embarrassment hitting him hard. 

He’s sitting in front of the most beautiful person in the world, sweaty, shirtless, stinky and probably dying. 

How could he not be embarrassed. 

“What about a bath?” You question, remembering the porcelain tub in the bathroom, “You wouldn’t have to stand, but you’d be able to feel cleaner?” Seokmin just nods, whining again as you spring off the bed to start running the lukewarm water into the tub, adding the eucalyptus bath salts that sit in one of the cupboards. 

You manage to recruit the overgrown puppy down the hall into helping his friend into the bathroom and the bath tub - Seokmin was slowly gaining some colour in his face, his eyes following you around as you pull out a fresh towel, sitting it on the toilet besides the tub, averting your eyes as Mingyu helps a clothe-less Seokmin into the cool water, the man letting out a relieved groan. 

“Oh, that feels nice.” Seokmin says in delight as he lets his body sink into the water, dunking his head under to scrub at his dirty hair. Once he sits comfortably in the water, bubbles up to his chin, you turn to face him, dropping to your knees besides the tub, your eyes settling on his face, a worried expression tainting your features. 

“I’m okay.” Seokmin whispers, and you shake your head. 

“No, you’re not and I’m a little mad you didn’t tell me how sick you where.” You huff, your expression melting away as Seokmin lets out a rough laugh, his hand lifting out of the water to wipe at the crease between your eyebrows. 

“I like you when you’re cranky. It’s a cute look.” He teases, and you huff again, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, it would’ve been nice to have you helping me out.” Seokmin says softly, his fingers trailing down to caress the soft skin on your cheek. 

He’s not sure what happening, maybe it’s the antibiotics, they’ve made him delirious. 

Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s missed you so much, that he doesn’t know how to handle it. 

“You’re a much better nurse than Wonwoo.” Seokmin teases, his hand pulling away from your face, your expression surprised as he slips it back into the water, “He kept telling me to suck it up.” He adds and you roll your eyes. 

That sound like Wonwoo. He’ll be getting an earful when he gets home later. 

“Just clean yourself up - I’ll go change your sheets, and throw out all those dirty tissues.” You tease him back, giving him a gentle smile before lifting yourself off the floor, striding out of the bathroom, and back into his bedroom, stripping the bed of the dirty linen, managing to find some clean ones in his closet. 

Within half an hour you manage to have Seokmin’s room looking cleaner, his sheets are fresh on his bed, a small candle that you stole from the lounge room burning in the corner of the room, the curtains open just enough to add some light to the room, but closed enough to not hurt Seokmin’s eyes. 

Mingyu help his friend out of the bathtub, letting him dry himself and pull on his clean sweatpants before following him slowly back into the bedroom, the smile on Seokmin’s as bright as the sun outside as he looks over your efforts in his room. 

“I’m going to go order some of the chicken soup from down the road, I’ll message you when it gets here.” Mingyu says quickly, patting his friend on the shoulder before exiting the bedroom, leaving the two of you alone. 

“You’ve done a lot.” Seokmin says quietly, closing his bedroom door behind himself as he shuffles into the room. 

“My mum always said that a clean space is good for healing.” You mention, your hands balled at your sides as you try not to look at your friends bare chest, your eyes locked with his. 

“Your mum seems to say a lot of things.” He coos, stepping forwards again until he hovers in front of you. 

“Are you dissing my mum?” You question with a pout, Seokmin shaking his head quickly with a quiet laugh. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. 

“Not at all. I think she says some very wise things.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

“Thank you, peach.” Seokmin’s voice drops, his fingers grazing against the skin on your arms. 

“What for?” You question. 

“Everything. For being my friend. For helping me in class. For taking care of me while I’m sick.” He says softly, his hand stopping underneath your jaw, his thumb tracing gentle lines against your cheek. 

“I care about you, Min.” You say softly. 

Seokmin nods, he knows what that means. 

His brows pinch as he tries to shake away a thought that can’t stop lingering in the back of his head, a thought to try again, to cross the boundary. 

“I really want to kiss you.” He whispers, his face bending down to meet your slowly, his movements stopping as his forehead presses against yours, you wait, expecting him to close the distance, to kiss you. 

He doesn’t. 

He can’t do it. 

“Rest with me for a while?” He asks, pulling away from you, he slides onto his bed, feeling the luxury of being clean in his clean sheets. 

He owes you big time. 

“Okay.” You say, sliding onto the bed besides him, the man throwing his covers over the two of you. He shuffles on the mattress, waiting till your settled comfortably against the pillows before slipping further down the mattress, tentatively placing his head on your chest, letting out a content sigh as one of your arms wraps around him, fiddling with the hair at the top of his neck. 

“Can you trace on my back?” He asks cautiously, he knows he might be pushing a boundary. 

He knows how his friend feels about you. 

He knows that once his medication wares off he might regret how forwards he’s being, but for now he just wants you. 

He needs you. 

He needs you to touch him. 

He needs you to comfort him. 

He wishes he did kiss you. 

But he doesn’t want to make you sick. 

+

+

The room is dark when you wake up - Seokmin’s TV still playing the true crime documentary, the boy pressed tightly against your body, one of your hands pressed against his bare back. You lift your free hand and press it to his forehead glad that his temperature seems to be settling. You let out a long sigh as you hear the front door open and close in the distance, deep whispers coming through the cracks under the door. 

You glance down at the sleeping man before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Ill be right back.” You promise as you pull his arms from around you, sliding off the bed, Seokmin letting out a long whine before rolling over and cuddling himself against his pillows. 

You manage to slip out of the room without waking the sick man, closing the door lightly before stomping down the hallway, smacking Wonwoo’s arm as soon as you get close enough. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You hiss, Wonwoo in shock at you standing in front of him. He glances to his larger friend for help but Mingyu just shrugs throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“She has a point, he looked like a dead man.” Mingyu huffs, trying his best to stroll out of the room before he gets caught in Wonwoo’s fate. Wonwoo sighs and glances back at you, his expression timid, apologetic instead of its usual flat line. 

“He didn’t want you to worry.” He begins to explain, faltering when you cross your arms against your chest, raising one eyebrow. “Neither of us wanted you to worry. I’ve been taking him to the doctor and making sure he’s had his medication but I’m not good with the hands on stuff.” Wonwoo sighs, his head shooting to look over his shoulder to glance at Seokmin’s closed door. 

“Is he really that sick? Should we take him to the hospital?” He questions quietly and you shake your head. 

“He’s okay, he just needed a little TLC.” You explain, moving to the fridge in the corner of the kitchen pulling out the third bottle of lemonade handing it to the tall man. “You need to drink this though, can’t have the only carer here getting sick.” You say softly, Wonwoo shoots you a sheepish grin, downing the drink in a few gulps before chucking the empty bottle in the recycling bin. He pauses for a second, looking over to Seokmin's still closed door and back to you. 

“Are you leaving?” Wonwoo asks quietly as you reach into the fridge and hand him the container of left over soup, asking for him to put in in some bowls and warm it up. 

“No, I think I’ll stay the night, I want to check him every few hours.” You answer, leaning against the counter as Wonwoo tips small amounts of soup into four bowls before placing each into the microwave one by one until they’re all warm. “If his antibiotics don’t start working he’ll need IV ones.” You explain, Wonwoo just nodding slowly. 

“I’ll set up the couch for you then.” Wonwoo speaks softly, handing you one of the bowls with a spoon knowing what you were going to do next. He nods at you before walking over to the linen cupboard by the front door pulling out some spare blankets and pillows. 

You watch him set up for a bit longer before walking back down the hall with the soup in hand, a water bottle tucked under one of your arms. You swing the door open surprised to see Seokmin sitting up against his headboard watching the TV intently. 

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be awake yet.” You say quickly shutting the door behind you, placing the bowl of hot soup on the night stand, moving to hand the water to him. He had pulled on a T-shirt in the time you’d been in the kitchen, his skin still having a light sheen to it. 

“I just woke up.” Seokmin answers, glancing over you and then back to the door. “Are you leaving?” He asks, his expression mirroring Wonwoo’s only two minutes earlier.  You just shake your head, perching on the side of his bed, waiting for him to take a big gulp of the water. 

“I’m really worried about you, min.” You speak after a break of silence, the two of you just watching each other. His expression softens quickly, the man scooting down the mattress to sit in front of you, his hands reach out for yours, his skin still warm to touch. 

“I really am okay, it’s just a chest infection.” He says and you scoff, glaring up at him before glancing back down to your joined hands. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” You ask, Seokmin glancing at you in surprise. Theres a pregnant pause, neither of you moving an inch before Seokmin nods his head. 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“I didn’t want to make you sick.” 

“It’s just a chest infection though.” The corners of your lips lift as you repeat the phrase in a teasing tone, Seokmin rolling his eyes before releasing your hands, his own lifting to sit on the underside of your jaw, lifting your head to look up at him. 

“Do you want me to?” His gaze flickers again, down to your lips and then back to your eyes, your teeth catching your lip, your shoulders shrugging slowly. 

“I think so.” You respond, your voice no more than an exhaled breath as Seokmin leans forwards, your lips just barely touch, but as he feels your own part he presses down harder.  You feel Seokmin’s body relax as you reciprocate, your lips locking together only breaking apart to take quick breaths, his hands falling from your jaw to grip your hips, his body shifting slowly. 

Seokmin’s lips leave yours for no more than ten seconds, his hands tugging your body onto his lap, your legs straddling him as he shoots you a grin, before leaning up to catch your lips again. Your body melts against him your hands rake up his arms, Seokmin letting out a small shiver as they tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You’re both starved for each other, taking the time to melt your bodies together as Seokmin lies back on the mattress pulling you down with him, his thumb rubbing soft circles into the plush flesh of your thighs. 

“I don’t want to push you.” His voice is rough as he pulls away from you, his lips red and swollen, despite a light sheen of sweat on his forehead his eyes are bright, void of any signs of sickness. 

“If anything I think I’m the one pushing you.” You say quietly, sitting up straight on his pelvis, your hands bracing against his abdomen as you look down at him. Seokmin’s hand reaches out the brush a loose hair behind your ear, his eyes searching every inch of your face. 

A knock at the door pulls your attention from him, your gaze shoots over to the closed door Seokmin’s expression falling. 

“I’ve set up the couch for you, I’m just gonna be in my room.” Wonwoo’s voice cuts through the sounds of harsh breathing, your gaze shooting back to the man beneath you, guilt slicing through your expression. 

“You’re still sick.” You mumble, your arms falling limp at your sides. Seokmin shakes his head quickly, sitting up holding you steady on top of him, his eyes pleading with you. Seokmin can feel the desperation rising in him. 

Why did his friend have to be such a cock block? 

Why did you have to hesitate? 

“You should be resting.” You remind yourself. 

“This is the best I’ve felt in days.” He mumbles under his breath, his hand soothing up and down your sides, slipping under your shirt. “Please don’t go.” He pleads. 

He watches as you grimace a little your fingers reaching up to push his hair away from his eyes, fighting a battle with yourself.

 He watches as you slip off his lap, taking his hands off your sides, giving them a tight squeeze before releasing them. 

“Eat your soup, I’ll come check on you in a few hours.” You whisper, leaning forwards to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Seokmin just keeps watching as you leave the room, closing the door gently behind yourself. 

You pause outside Seokmin’s room, leaning against the wall as you try to calm yourself. 

What the hell are you doing? 

+

+

Your alarm goes off twice through the night, you poke your head into Seokmin’s bedroom before tiptoeing into the room, pressing your hand gently to his forehead. His fever has almost resolved, he still a little warm to the touch but seems much more comfortable then when you had arrived earlier. 

Mingyu is fast asleep when you squeak open the door to his room, a YouTube video playing on his phone besides his head. You tip toe into the room, locking the device and plugging it into the charger before pressing the back of your hand against his forehead. 

Might as well take care of all of them while you’re here. 

His forehead is cool to the touch, the large man letting out a hoarse cough as you move to make your way back out of the room. You make a mental note to give him a lozenge next time he’s awake. 

You leave the room as quietly as you entered, opening the next bedroom door, poking your head in to see Wonwoo perched on the edge of his bed, fresh in pyjamas his hair wet from his shower. 

“How’re you feeling?” You question as you swing the door open a little further, not brave enough to step into the boundary of the room. 

“Good.” Wonwoo says his eyes lifting off his phone glancing at you before he locks the device placing it besides him on the bed. He watches as you glance around his room, taking in the floating shelves above his bed, overflowing with different kinds of fiction, your eyes glancing quickly at the beyond dead plant in the corner of his room before stopping back on him. 

“You should be asleep.” You comment, your eyes glancing to the clock besides his bed - the time reading ‘3:45am’. Wonwoo just shrugs, his brain not able to think of anything to say to you as you linger in his doorway. 

“Thank you.” He finally mumbles out, his words sounding forced as he tries to put a smile on his face. 

God, he’s so fucking awkward. 

You smile back at him, nodding your head as you accept his words. You take your chance, stepping into the bedroom, your hand reaching out for the closest book to you, plucking it off the shelves. 

Wonwoo can feel his chest tighten as you read the back of the paperback, flicking through the pages stopping to read the random annotations he had written into the margins. “Do you mind if I borrow this?” You question motioning down to the book in your hands. 

Wonwoo nods without hesitation. “Anything that’s mine is yours.” He says quickly before grimacing. Your eyebrow quirks as you glance down at him, still frozen at the end of the bed. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re being weird.” You comment. He can see the confused concern in your eyes, his head nodding quickly as he clears his throat standing from his spot. 

“I was wondering if you might want to go somewhere with me tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks, his hand reaching behind his head to scratch at the back of his neck. You falter, your eyes widening quickly as you avert your gaze to the book in your hand. 

“I just saw that new book store a few minutes away from the campus has opened, and thought maybe you’d want to check it out.” He adds quickly, he waited for a few moments his hand dropping from his neck, his mouth opening to speak pausing as you nod your head. 

“I’d love to.” You exclaim lifting your head to shoot him a smile, “I have been really excited for that place to open.” 

“I know.” Wonwoo mumbles under his breath, smiling back at you before glancing over to his bedside table. “We should probably leave around ten? Maybe grab some brunch while we’re out?” You nod quickly, shuffling back to his bedroom door. 

“Goodnight, Woo.” He can feel his heart skip at the nickname. 

“Night.” He responds. 

+

+

You fold the blankets placing them on top of the fold out couch, watching Wonwoo potter around the house getting ready to leave. You had managed to sleep until nine after falling back asleep, only waking to Mingyu crashing around in the kitchen, making a fresh coffee pot for the apartment. 

He had apologised for waking you but you were quick to wave him off. “I actually forgot to set an alarm so you saved me an embarrassing wake up” you had chuckled at him as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Mingyu was certainly sounding better that morning his rough cough almost gone, you had managed to convince him to take one more day of cold’n’flu just in case. 

“Wonwoo, maybe I should just meet you there?” You called down the hallway, stepping out from tidying the lounge, grabbing your purse off the floor. “I need to have a shower and get changed it might save some time.” You hear his footsteps stop for a moment, before they quicken the man rushing out of his bedroom, checking his pockets. 

“I’ll drive you back to your place and then we can drive to campus.” Wonwoo says, pulling his car keys from his back pocket leaving no room for debate as he walks to the front door. 

“Ready to go?” He asks and you nod, moving towards the front door. 

“It was nice to officially meet you, Mingyu.” You call to the large man in the kitchen. “Hopefully you’re not as sick next time we hang out.” The said man pokes his head around the corner giving you a wide smile and short wave as Wonwoo leads you out of the apartment. 

The drive to your apartment is almost silent bar the soft hum of the radio and the occasional interruption from the navigation on Wonwoo’s phone. He pulls his car into your designated spot following you hesitantly up the stairs to your one bedroom apartment. 

“Hey.” You coo as you swing open your front door, the fluffy tailed silver tabby swishing at your feet as you shuffle carefully into the apartment. 

“You have a cat?” Wonwoo questions as he closes your front door bending down the scratch the head of the friendly feline. 

“He’s my sisters, just crashing with me while she’s out of town.” You explain, shrugging off your purse and coat hanging them over the desk chair in the corner of the room. “His name is bud, if you were wondering.” You add quickly. 

Wonwoo nods, a beaming smile on his face as the cat rolls onto its back, opening its posture for Wonwoo to rub his belly. “Hi, bud.” He mumbles quietly, the smile not leaving his face as you move around your apartment, pulling some clothes out of your wardrobe, placing them on your bed. 

“Make yourself at home, I’m just going to rinse off quickly.” Wonwoo nods watching as you close the door to your bedroom, the sound of the shower turning on making him stand from his spot on the ground. 

He takes a moment to glance around your apartment, the four bookshelves lining the walls brings a soft grin to his face, his hand reaching out to pull one of the more worn in books off the shelf. 

“What a weirdo.” He chuckles to himself as he flicks through the book, laughing softly as the emoji’s your had drawn in the margins, not to mention the copious amount of the word ‘slay’ every time the main character does something to stand up for herself. 

Wonwoo places the book back on the shelf, before pulling out another the same pastel coloured tabs lining the edges, your words in this book written in a hot pink glitter pen. Wonwoo sits on your couch this time, taking a moment to flip through every page just looking for the scribbles in the book. 

It’s endearing. 

Wonwoo jumps a little when your bedroom door swings open, dropping the book on the cushion besides him as he looks up at you. 

“Would you mind helping me zip?” You question as you turn your back towards him, exposing the white band of your bralette. He swallows hard, stepping up his fingers grazing your back as he lightly tugs on the zipper. 

It takes bit of adjusting, his fingers trailing over your shoulder as he moves your hair out of the way to pull the zip the last little way up. 

He can see the goosebumps raising on your skin as you step away from him, looking up to meet his eyes once before shuffling back into your bed room. Wonwoo sighs, glancing down to the cat sitting besides the couch. 

“Don’t judge me.” He grumbles at the feline, his body tensing again as your step out of your room. The black floral dress sat at mid thigh, the bodice covered now by a white crop knit sweater your hands digging through a tote bag as you ensure you have everything you need. 

Wonwoo’s eyes trail down a little taking in the thin stocking covering your previously bare legs, a pair of white high top converses over the top. 

“You look pretty.” The words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them - Wonwoo having to force himself to not bring his hand over his mouth. 

“Thank you.” He can see the slight pink rising on your cheeks, averting his gaze as he fans his face a little, grabbing the book off the couch to place it back on your shelves. You bid farewell to the cat, checking his automatic feeder has been topped up with food before leading Wonwoo back to the car. 

The two of you slide into your seats as your phone dings loudly. Wonwoo glances at you quickly before turning his focus back on pulling the car out of the parking space, watching in his peripherals as you pull your phone out of the tote bag. 

MINMIN 😷: where’d you go? 

PEACHES 🍑: heading out with woo - going to that new bookstore. 

MINMIN 😷: without me? I’m hurt. 

PEACHES🍑: invitation only, sorry. 

PEACHES🍑: how are you feeling now? 

Wonwoo glances over as he pulls out of the garage, frowning at the soft smile on your face, watching you text furiously on your phone. 

MINMIN😷: feeling good - all thanks to you ♥️. 

PEACHES🍑: I’m glad - make sure to take your meds, otherwise nurse Wonwoo will have to take over the case. 

You let out a soft snort at the exaggerated pleading emoji’s seokmin sends - clearing your throat as you glance to the driver, his hands tight on the steering wheel his eyes focused on the road in front of you. 

“Sorry, just checking in with Seokmin.” You say quickly locking your phone and sliding it back into your bag, clasping your hands over your tummy. 

“How is he?” Wonwoo asks, and you just shrug. 

“Said he’s feeling better, I told him if he doesn’t take better care of himself you’ll have to take over for me.” You joke, Wonwoo huffing out a laugh as he shakes his head, pulling into the parking lot of your schools campus. 

The two of you make casual conversation as you make your way over to the new bookstore - the balloons from the opening still hanging up with the banner over the front door, Wonwoo’s hand light on the small of your back as he guides you out of the way of exiting shoppers.

“Wow, this place is huge.” You exclaim, as the two of you pause in the entry way taking in the two story bookstore, the bottom floor holding a large coffee shop with a cluster of tables and couches the stairs leading up to the rows of bookshelves, already bustling with college students. 

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” Wonwoo asks sticking close to your back as he steps out of the way of more people, his hands sitting on your upper arms as he bends down so you can hear him easier. 

“I just wanted to browse - I do need a copy of that Fredrik Backman book for the movie adaptation assignment.” You respond, glancing over your shoulder to make eye contact with him. Wonwoo straightens his posture glancing around at the people around you two unsure where to start. 

“Let’s just wander.” You say quietly, moving out of his grasp much to his disappointment, his eyes flashing in surprise as you reach up to slide your hand in his, pulling him behind you as you move through the groups of students to make your way up the stairs. 

Wonwoo follows you blindly his broad shoulders stopping people from crashing into the two of you as you reach the top of the stairs - the second level was far less busy then the cafe down below - Wonwoo can feel your hand loosening in his for a moment, fight or flight kicking in as his fingers tightening around yours, not letting you release him as he pulls you over to the thriller section. 

He takes his time reading the synopsis of multiple books before placing them back on the shelf, his hand holding yours besides him as he pretends not to notice the way you look down at his hand curled around yours before glancing up at his face. 

“Oh, I have that one, you can just borrow it if you like.” You say as he looks over a book, seeming to be interested in it. “I mean if you don’t mind some annotations, and I know some people prefer to collect the books they read but I just thought I’d offer in case you wanted to sav—”

“I want to borrow it from you.” Wonwoo cuts you off, sliding the book back into the empty space on the shelf, turning his body towards you. “Where to next?” He questions you, his hand shifting in yours releasing you for just a moment, to lace his fingers with yours giving your hand a tight squeeze. 

“Fantasy?” You say hesitantly, still frozen as Wonwoo starts making his way through the rows of books following the large signs pointing to the section he was looking for. Your body follows behind his willingly, eyes trained on your connected hands in surprise. 

You gaze finally flickers away as you run straight into Wonwoo’s back, Wonwoo’s arm keeping you behind him as he stares down the man standing between the shelves of books. 

“Josh.” Wonwoo addresses the man with a sharp look, the name of the man making you step out besides Wonwoo, your hand still clasping his as you glance over the intruder. 

“Joshua? Since when do you read?” You question quietly, the man’s head perking up from the book he was looking at, his eyes catching yours as he moves to take a step forwards, Wonwoo holding you steady as he moves the two of you a  step back. 

The second man freezes his brows furrowed as he considers you. “It’s good to see you too, princess.” Joshua says softly, his smile kind as he looks over you. 

“Don’t call her that.” Wonwoo hisses, you hand squeezing in his as you glance up at him reassuringly before stepping away from him, letting go of his hand to step into a hug with your old friend. 

Joshua holds you tightly as you give him a quick squeeze, letting you go to look down at your face, taking a moment to tuck your hair behind your ear. “You look good, kid.” He whispers in your ear, pulling a soft chuckle out of you. 

You step away from your friend, immediately reaching out to slide your palm back against Wonwoo’s as you chatter away with Joshua. Wonwoo can feel himself relax a little at your hand being back in his, your thumb rubbing soft circles into the top of his hand. 

Wonwoo had been made aware of your history with the group of senior students, your past relationship with Seungcheol being a big stressor for you, Seokmin had gotten the story from you first hand, including the way you had happened to find comfort in your ex’s best friend, Joshua. 

“So are you two dating or something?” Joshua asks, motioning down to your linked hands, his gaze teasing. You move to debate his question, barely getting a chance to speak before Wonwoo cuts in. 

“We are.” His voice is deep, but steady, his gaze still considering your friend with doubt. Your face crinkles in confusion, Joshua’s smile growing as he glances between the two of you. 

“Well aren’t you two just the cutest.” Josh continues to tease, noticing the small movements the two of you make, the way Wonwoo’s free hand clenches every time Joshuas gaze flicks over to you. “I better head off, I’m meeting Jeonghan for lunch.” Joshua adds quickly, smiling at you one last time before sending you a quick wink and making his exit out of the book store. 

The two of you stand silent for a moment, before Wonwoo quickly moves his attention back to the books, his eyes squeezed shut in frustration his hand finally letting go of yours much to your own disappointment, your face falling as you look down at your now empty hand. Your arms are limp at your sides as you step further away from him, confused as to what had happened in the span of one morning, Your thoughts filling your head quickly as you make your way to the staircase, quickly weaving through the cafe to step outside into the cold air. 

You pause outside, leaning against the wall next to the front door, running your hands through your hair pulling your phone out of your tote bag looking down at the collection of messages. 

MINMIN 😷: I think we should talk about yesterday. 

MINMIN😷: you’re not mad at me are you?

MINMIN😷: please don’t tell me you regret it? 

MINMIN😷:  I don’t, not even for a second, please just call me later so we can talk. 

You quickly type a response back, feeling bad that you had been ignoring the soft vibrations of your phone, hoping seokmin wasn’t overthinking things too much. 

PEACHES🍑: I’ll call you when I get home, still at the bookstore just got distracted. 

Seokmin’s response is quick, clear to you that he had probably been waiting for you to reply since sending his messages. 

MINMIN😷: I expect nothing less.

The door to the shop opens quickly, the bell jingling above your head as Wonwoo steps out, small paper bag in his hand. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asks quietly.

“Just getting some air.” You huff, locking your phone and tucking in back into your bag as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“Is this about what I said earlier?” Wonwoo asks, moving away from the door to stand in front of you, his hand pushing the paper bag towards you. You take the offering, opening it to see the book you had mentioned earlier sitting inside. 

“Why did you say it?” You question back, tucking the book into your tote bag keeping your attention of the quiet man in front of you. “What are we doing here today?” You add another question, watching the way Wonwoo shifts on his feet. 

“I don’t know.” He says quietly, his hands wringing in front of him, his eyes unable to meet yours as you wait for a proper answer. “I could ask the same of you.” He says quickly your brows furrowing as you frown. 

“Why are you here with me when you clearly have something with Seokmin.” He almost sounds angry, his words coming out quick and harsh but never raising above a quiet whisper. 

“You invited me here.” You answer, “I came because you invited me and I thought we were friends.” 

“Friends?” Wonwoo hisses, his shifting stopping as he makes eye contact with you. 

“What else would I think Wonwoo? You barely talk to me most of the time, to be honest for the first few months I thought you hated me, you never made an effort to be friends.” You scoff, your words making Wonwoo lower his head again. 

You were right, as per usual, he didn’t make much effort to talk with you, to spend time with you apart from Seokmin because he didn’t know how. 

He wasn’t sure how to move past being classmates. Friends. 

He has never been good at making conversation or at reading peoples body language, which is why he says, “so you don’t deny you and Seokmin have something going on?” 

You choke on a laugh of disbelief, “I don’t deny it.” You hiss quickly adding, “We kissed yesterday, is that what you want to hear?”

Wonwoo can feel his heart drop, that isn’t what he wanted to hear. He thought you’d deny it, explain that you’re just friends but now he stands with his heart in his stomach, your eyes glaring at him. 

“You kissed him?” He questions not sure what else to do. 

“I did.” You say, “I care about him, he’s very special to me.” You continue, the tension in your body falling away as Wonwoo watches you. 

“I care about you too, Woo.” You mumble, the words feeling different to how you said them last night with Seokmin, “As much as you confuse me, and refuse to spend time with me, a part of me can’t help but care for you.” Your honesty shocks the man in front of you. 

How can you be so open with your feelings? 

How can you say things he wishes he could say to you? 

You stand there waiting, giving him time to process what you’re saying, waiting for him to do something. 

Anything. 

He does. 

Wonwoo steps forwards his hand reaching out to cup your cheeks, tilting your head up, your eyes meeting his as his eyes search over your face. “I care about you too.” He finally whispers, his breath ghosting over your lips. 

The world keeps moving around you, the busy college student rushing in and out of the bookstore, not paying any attention to the two emotionally stunted adults standing besides the door. 

Wonwoo leans forwards pressing a soft, chaste kiss against your lips. You can tell he wants to do more, to press harder, to pull you against him but he doesn’t. 

One chaste kiss is all you get before his pulls his lips off yours, going back to just staring at you. 

“But I can’t help but think I’m not the right choice for you.” He mumbles, leaning forwards for just one more kiss before he lets you go, beginning to walk in the direction of his car. 

What the fuck? 

+

+

The phone rings in your ear as you wait for your best friend to answer his phone. After your slight argument with Wonwoo he had driven you home, neither of you saying anything as you jumped out of the car as soon as he pulled up beside your apartment building. 

You had paced your apartment for a while, stating your frustrations to the poor cat who watches you move about before grabbing your phone off the bed, pressing his contact and holding the phone to your ear. 

“Hello city morgue. I’m doctor death, how may I help you?” Seokmin’s voice rings through the speaker, the joke going in one ear and out the other as you blurt out. 

“I kissed Wonwoo.” The line is silent for a moment before Seokmin lets out a long sigh. 

“I know.” He says quickly, you can almost hear the way he rubs his forehead as he thinks about what to say next. “Wonwoo told me.” Seokmin still sounds so tired, you heart sinks as you think about him, sitting in bed waiting for you to call while you’re out kissing his best friend. 

Maybe Seungcheol was right all those years. 

You are the reason your relationships always fail. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not cool, especially after last night.” You start to speak into the phone, interrupting Seokmin as he tries to soothe your concern. 

You stay silent as he excuses your behaviour. 

You don’t deserve friends like him. 

“I think maybe I should take a break from the two of you for a while. I don’t want to be that person that ruins a friendship, I’ve done it before Min and I don’t want to be that person again.” You explain, sitting down on your couch as you let out a stilted sigh. 

“You’re not going to ruin- what is this about, I’m not angry if that’s what you’re worried about.” Seokmin says quickly, you can feel how fast his brain is going with the stuttering of his words. “If anything I’m the one that pushed Wonwoo to make a move, I think we should all sit down and talk about this, be honest about how we feel.” He continues. 

“I just need some time to think, Min.” You mumble, your heart aching as the weight of what you’re saying hits you. 

Time alone. 

You had been a trio for a while now. 

You don’t even know how to be alone. 

“Ok.” Seokmin whispers, “We can do that, we can give you time to think but I don’t want you to pull away from us for good.” Seokmin says, adding, “Don’t pull away from me.” 

“I won’t.” You promise, “I’ll talk to you soon.” The phone call ends, the two of you sitting in different parts of the city, staring down at your phones like it burnt you. 

+

+

Days move quickly. Blurring together as you move through the hours without a second thought. 

They days turn to weeks, to a month in the blink of an eye. 

“Hey, you.” A voice says from behind you, as you wait in line for your hot chocolate, bundled up in a large coat. You turn towards the voice shooting a tired smile at the overgrown puppy holding his own warm drink. 

“Hey Mingyu, it’s been a while.” You greet him, pausing to take your order from the pick up counter before stepping back over to him. Mingyu glances over you in concern, his eyes lingering on the tiredness in your eyes. 

“Are you okay? You look a bit tired.” He comments and you scoff, grinning as you take a sip from your cup. 

“What a way to complement a lady.” You chide, watching the way Mingyu fumbles slightly before adding, “Exam season kicked my ass, tired is an understatement.” His face brightens as he realises you didn’t take him seriously. 

“Well we all miss you over at the apartment, can’t say it’s been fun hanging around MinWoo since you ditched.” 

“How are they?” You question quickly, focusing on your take away cup as Mingyu’s eyes burn into you. 

“You should ask them yourself.” He says softly, “They’ve been patient but you don’t even text them and I don’t know how much longer they can wait before they set up a mass search and rescue.” You grimace at his words. 

You had been overly MIA, hoping that maybe they would just forget about you. 

Maybe if you caused enough trouble they would give up on wanting to be your friends and you wouldn’t have to face reality. 

“You don’t have to choose one of them.” Mingyu places his hand on your shoulder giving it a soft squeeze. “Just choose me instead.” He jokes, pulling a soft chuckle out of you as he moves a finger under your chin, raising your head. 

“They would be happy to do whatever you asked, they just want you in their lives anyway they can.” You nod at his words, thanking him as you push your way out of the cafe, pulling your phone from your pocket. 

PEACHES🍑: I think we should meet up, sorry for being so MIA. 

WONU 🐱: oh, so she is alive. 

MINMIN ☀️: don’t be a dick. 

MINMIN ☀️: When and Where? 

PEACHES 🍑: My place? Tonight? 

MINMIN☀️: I’ll be there. 

WONU🐱: Guess I’ll tag along. 

You spend your afternoon cleaning up your apartment, rearranging the plates on the table, staring at them and rearranging them again. You don’t have much chance to rearranging any further as your phone lets out a loud ding, a soft knock at your front door sounding into the apartment at the same time. 

“Just a sec.” You call out as you reach for your phone, glancing down at the message sitting on your lock screen. 

MINMIN ☀️: I just thought you should know that I won’t be coming tonight - I’ve been doing some thinking of my own and think that what you and I have is very different to what you and Wonwoo have -  even though it hurts me I can’t help but admit you two are right for each other. I hope this doesn’t ruin your evening but you have my blessing. 

You let out a soft “oh” as you glance down at the message on your phone. Another one popping up on the screen not two seconds later. 

MINMIN☀️: Just know I’ll always be there to catch you if you fall. 

Another knock on your door reminds you of your visitor, your hands swiping at your face as the tears well in your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks. 

“Coming.” You say softly, unlocking the deadbolt before pulling the door open, Wonwoo staring down at you in surprise. 

“He sent the message didn’t he?” Wonwoo asks and you nod, your bottom lip poking out as your pout, showing the screen of your phone to Wonwoo who just sighs. 

“I told him not to.” He starts, brushing the hair off his forehead as he sighs. “I told him he should come and he wouldn’t listen and I know how much you probably want him he—” You pause Wonwoo’s monologue by reaching forwards, stepping up onto your tippy toes as you cup his face, your lips catching his. 

Wonwoo lets out a short grunt of surprise as his hands latch to your hips, walking you back into the apartment, kicking the front door closed behind him. “Why are you here, Wonwoo?” You question as he pulls his lips from yours, his gaze moving to look behind you as he takes deep breaths. 

Your fingers move to grip his chin, pulling his gaze back down to you. “Why are you here?” You ask again, his eyes searching yours as you wait for your answer. 

“Because I care about you.” He whispers, his eyes soft as he continues, “Because I care about you to the point where I can’t let you go, I need you in anyway that I can have you.” He takes a deep breath as he leans his head forwards, pressing his forehead against yours as his shoulders slump forwards his arms wrapping around you. 

“I’m not good at this. I’m not like Seokmin, it doesn’t come naturally to me to take what I want.” He mumbles. 

“And what do you want?” 

“You. I just want you.” He answers, his teeth catching his lip as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t just want to be friends.” Wonwoo lifts one of his hands from around your waist, settling it against your neck, his thumb lifting your head to look up at him. “Seokmin made his choice, and this is me making mine.” He grumbles before catching your lips with his, his hand warm on your neck as he waits for you to make the first move. 

Your arms loop around Wonwoo’s neck pulling him closer to you, his lips pulling off yours to rip the glasses off his face, before reconnecting, his hands bracing against your thighs as he lifts you up his body, sitting you comfortably on his pelvis. 

“I think we should go to the bedroom.” You mumble against his lips, grinning as he nods, pressing soft kisses against your jaw as he wanders into your bedroom, lying you on your mattress softly. 

“Tell me you want me.” Wonwoo grumbles against your skin, his fingers making quick work of the buttons on your oversized cardigan, letting the fabric fall open against the bed as his hand move down towards the zipper on the back of your skirt. 

“Someone’s needy.” You tease, letting out a soft chuckle as Wonwoo pauses his kisses, pushing himself up on his knees to glare down at you. Your hands reach for him, tugging the white t-shirt out of his jeans, pulling the fabric up his torso until he takes the hint and pulls it the rest of the way off, throwing it onto the floor. 

You wrap your legs around his waist pulling him back down to you, his hands bracing against the mattress above your head, his body hovering while he waits. 

God he really does want you to say it. 

“I want you, Wonwoo.” You say quietly, your nails scratching up his back until they stop at the base of his neck. He considers you for a moment before getting back to work, his lips pressing gentle kisses down your chest while he tugs your skirt over your hips, slotting between your legs as you pushes your hips open taking his time to gaze down your body. 

“Are you done yet?” You question, watching as he shakes his head his eyes moving furiously over your body. You huff and reach for the band of your black bralette pulling the flimsy material over your head, your hair sprawling out on the bed beneath you as you shoot him a smug smile. 

“What about now?” You question, Wonwoo doesn’t answer his eyes scanning every inch of your face as he tries to avoid looking at your bare chest, his hands scrunching the sheets beneath you. “You can touch me, woo.” Your words break his concentration his throat moving quickly as he swallows harshly. 

“I just want to take my time.” He says softly, leaning forwards to press a chaste kiss to your lips, letting out a soft groan as you tighten your legs around his hips, your clothed pussy grazing against his jeans. 

“We can do that later.” You coo, smoothing the hair off his forehead as you release his mouth, taking your turn to press open mouth kisses down his neck, sucking harshly against base of his throat, the man letting out a shuddering sigh. “I want you to fuck me.” You say watching as Wonwoo shakes his head. 

“No.” He says quickly, “I don’t fuck.” He corrects and you groan, rolling your eyes as you beg him not to say it. 

“I make love.” 

“Oh wow, you actually said it.” You blurt out, smiling as Wonwoo presses a soft kiss to your cheek before sitting up on his knees, fiddling with the buttons on his jeans before pausing. 

“I don’t have a condom.” His face falls as his fingers pause on his waistband. You glance up at him for a moment before shrugging. 

“Clean?” You ask quickly his head nodding as you shrug again. “I’m covered.” You say quietly, sitting up on the mattress reaching forwards to finish pulling down the zipper on his pants, Wonwoo still processing what you’re saying. 

“You want me to raw dog it?” He splutters, a frown on your face as you glare up at him. 

“You really are finding ways to ruin this aren’t you.” You hiss, tugging on his jeans until he slides off the bed pulling them the rest of the way down before kicking them to the side. 

“Sorry, I’m nervous.” He apologises, climbing back onto the bed. You just smile at him, pulling him back to you as your distract him with kisses, Wonwoo’s arms sit comfortably on the bed besides your head, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as your hands make quick work of pushing his boxers over his hips, his cock hard between the two of you. 

Wonwoo groans against your lips as your hand wraps around his length, his hips bucking forwards as you give him a few strokes, before releasing him to dip your fingers inside of yourself, letting out a soft whimper as you scissor the two fingers inside your pussy, stretching your walls slowly. 

“I’m gonna cum so fast.” He mumbles against your lips as he glances quickly at what your hands are doing before snapping his eyes back up to yours. You don’t respond, biting your lip as you pull your fingers back out, reaching for him again, spreading your wetness over his cock before lining it up with your entrance. 

Wonwoo doesn’t waste much time, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before slowly pushing in, his cock grazing your walls at a snails pace. You can feel his lips spread in a smile against your cheek as he bottoms out, pausing for a moment, letting you buck your pelvis against his in a bid to get him to move. 

“Someone’s needy.” He coos, the taunt from earlier coming right back around to slap you in the face. You let out a groan of frustration as you push your head back into the mattress, Wonwoo letting out a soft chuckle as he pulls out, pushing back in at a much more urgent pace. 

Wonwoo is surprisingly fluid with his motions, his hips moving in a exact rhythm as he lifts himself up a little, one arm leaving the mattress to grip your thigh, lifting your leg to sit around his waist as he bends down sucking your left nipple into his mouth. 

“Fuck.” You hiss as his tongue circles the peaked nub, his teeth ever so gently grazing the pink flesh before moving his mouth to the right nipple, making sure to show the sensitive bud the same amount of attention. 

“Do you want to cum, Peach?” He asks softly, his fingers digging into your thigh as his hips slow down, the butterflies in your stomach fading away as you let out a long whine. 

“Please.” You beg, Wonwoo grinning as he sits back on his knees, lifting your other thigh around his hips as well. His hips beginning snapping into your harshly as he lifts two fingers to his mouth, dipping them inside quickly before reaching them down to circle your pulsing clit, the feeling overwhelming after the nub has been so rudely ignored this whole time. 

“I’m close.” You hiss, gritting your teeth as you push your eyes squeeze shut, Wonwoo whispering soft words above you as his hips falter. 

“Come with me, peach.” The two of you come undone together, his body leaning forwards as he sucks harshly against your neck, whispering soft praise into your sweaty skin. You can feel his release hot and heavy inside of you as his hips pause, your pelvises locked together as he brushes some hair from your face. 

“Can I take my time with you now, peach?” 

[mandoalorian]

let's get in the back of your cop car, officer

pairing: rookie cop!Leon S. Kennedy x f!Reader

summary: semi-au, where Leon is a rookie cop for the RPD and the Raccoon City incident did not occur.

warnings: SMUT (18+ no minors), car sex, protected p in v, choking, taunting and teasing, mention of handcuffs/being tied up, power play

masterlist

Night shift with Leon as part of his training as an officer did not go down in the way he thought it would. As his superior, Leon didn’t know what to expect of you. From his first meeting with you, it was clear that you were kind enough and strong, and with all the dedication and loyalty he could muster, Leon truly had the utmost respect for you. But more than anything else, when he wasn’t fawning over you, he was intimidated by you. In his eyes, you were goddamn perfect, and Leon found himself wondering what made you become a cop over say, a model or star actress. With a face like yours, you could easily find stardom, money and fame. He imagined asking you the question over a candlelit dinner and a glass of red wine, and he would often daydream about all of the plausible ways he could ask you out on a date.

But of course, Leon wasn’t delusional and he knew better than to believe you’d even give him a second glance or a moment of your precious time. After all, you were his boss. You were older and mature and he was just an earnest twenty-one-year-old rookie cop straight out of college. That was until the night of September 28th, 1998. 

Your loins were burning hot and you ached for Leon. Your primal need for him only grew as he pushed you down into the scratchy fabric material of the three backseats in his cop car. Your clothes had been discarded a good half an hour ago and were recklessly thrown over the backseats that you were now laying on, and into the trunk of Leon’s cop car. 

Somewhere along the drive, things had gotten heated. All grains of professionalism that were left in your employer/employee relationship with Leon had been thrown away alongside your clothing. 

“Stop squirming,” he huffed impatiently, licking a hot, wet stripe down your neck and biting down on the skin at your collarbone. Leon had wanted to live this moment from the very moment he met you. “Or I’ll cuff you up,” he brought his hand down to the silver handcuffs that were attached to his belt. “But you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” he taunted, shaking his head. He pushed himself up so he was hovering above you and wedged his knee in between your legs. Leon ran his fingers through his tousled, dark blonde hair and looked at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. It was dark outside, the alley that he’d parked in was barely illuminated by the yellow streetlights.

You’d never seen this side of Leon. He was usually mellow,  dorky, and cute. But this Leon… you’d been teasing him all day, get him so pent up he couldn’t even do his job properly. And this is what it had come to. You grabbed onto his bicep and dug your fingers into the material of his dark blue RPD uniform. “Leon, please,” you begged, rolling your hips along his thigh. “I need you.”

Leon groaned and squeezed his eyes shut at your words, silently thankful that you were just as desperate for him, as he was for you. He’d imagined this moment during his morning glories and evening showers. He didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky. Leon’s cheeks blushed a dusty pink colour and he pressed a soft kiss atop your nose, and then nudged down to your mouth, licking another stripe along your lower lip, swollen from all the making out you had both been partaking in, begging for entry once more. You granted it to him, of course, and relished the feeling of his tongue in your mouth. Without breaking the heated kiss, Leon unbuckled his belt and along with his underwear, let his pants fall down to his knees. 

“Not much space in this damn car,” Leon muttered, clearly agitated, but you just chuckled and pulled him in closer to you. 

“Fuck me, Leon.” you weren’t asking— you were telling. You spread your legs and if that wasn’t enough of an invitation, Leon lowered himself down and positioned his manhood to your entrance, sliding it between your folds, teasing you. 

He was thick and girth and you weren’t sure what you expected of the city cop, but Goddamn, he filled you up just the way you’d imagined. Stretching you open, you let out a cry and gritted your teeth together as he held onto you for his own balance. He had stamina, and as he rocked his hips back and forth, you felt your walls tighten around him. Wet, lewd sounds of your arousal filled the car and if you weren’t getting pounded, you might have felt a tad embarrassed. Leon brought his hand down to your neck, offering it a gentle squeeze. 

“Oh— oh Leon, you trying to choke me?” You giggled as you watched Leon’s cheeks turn a darker shade of rose. 

Leon increased his speed as he railed into you, and added more pressure around your neck. Somehow— you felt as though he’d had experience doing this, despite his young age. You’d been with other cops in your department before, but never a rookie like Leon. You typically liked them older than you and more experienced, but perhaps Leon was proving to be an anomaly. 

“Baby, oh— sweet girl, I’m close,” he warned in between huffs and grunts. “Jesus, you’re so perfect.”

There he was… the cute, affirming Leon you knew from work. Even as he pounded into you, his cock splitting you open, he knew how to give you butterflies and make your heart race with the sweetest, most wholesome comments.

“Cum inside of me, Leon,” you begged, your jaw agape. “I’m safe.”

And with that simple utterance, Leon spurted his ropes of seed inside of you, painting your walls white. The second you felt his warmth fill you, you found it was enough to let yourself come undone around him. His load was huge and you wondered when was the last time he’d fucked like that.

“That was good, rookie,” you praised him breathlessly as Leon rolled off the top of you and shuffled into the seat by the backdoor. “Keep that up and you’ll be a Government Agent in no time.”

Leon chuckled and pressed a final dainty kiss to your forehead. “We should probably head back to the station, huh?”

You nodded your head and clambered into the front driver’s seat. “And Leon, just so we’re clear… I hope we get the chance to do something like this again sometime, although maybe not when you’re on duty?”

“Right,” Leon nodded, switching back to work mode. “Sorry miss,”

You laughed softly as you turned on the engine and reversed back onto the road. “Sorry? Leon, you just gave me the best railing of my entire life. I had no idea you had that side to you.”

The rookie cop felt his cheeks heat up at your compliment and on your way back to the RPD, you kept your eye on him in the rearview mirror as he slipped back into his uniform. He was so handsome, his soft features something looking like something straight out of a fairytale. He had yet to be hardened by the cruel, crime-ridden world of Racoon City.

“I had fun tonight,” Leon admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You had just pulled into the parking lot of the RPD and could overhear the City Hall clock tower strike twelve. When the bells finished ringing, Leon cleared his throat, a wave of newfound confidence gushing through his veins. “And if it would be okay to ask, I’d like to take you out sometime… for dinner?”

You couldn’t hide the grin anymore. “I’d like that a lot, officer Kennedy.”

“Okay.” Leon beamed. “Well, I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, rookie,” you replied. “Good night.”

“Get home safe,” Leon smiled before slipping out of the cop car. You gave him a little wave goodbye and watched him find his own car in the parking lot. If anyone found out about tonight, you would be in a lot of trouble. Hell, you’d probably even lose your job.

But maybe he was worth it.

[gothgleek]

Spiderman!Spencer x Seamstress!Fem!Reader

Spencer finds out he’s got super powers and he’s got the brain, powers, and abilities to become a superhero. Now all he needs is a costume. That’s where you come in.

Outline for a Spiderman!Spencer fic I’m writing based this post by @reidcoffeemoon. Let me know if anyone would actually be interested in reading a full version of it. Also please like and reblog, it’s my birthday today💕💕💕

•The two of you met at a Halloween party thrown by Penelope. You are a seamstress and whenever someone complimented your costume, you would proudly ramble about of the type of fabric you used.

•Spencer was the only one who actually listened and responded with his own facts about the fabric’s history.

•You gasped and smiled, raising your left hand to your chest. “You are my new favorite person.” You declared.

•While talking, you both found out you’re from Vegas. You worked as a seamstress for a burlesque show off the strip and did cosplay part time while he was off at learning Caltech. The two of you bond over a restaurant that shut down five years ago.

•Now in DC, you worked as a seamstress for the local theater and managed a thrift store by the university he works at. Cosplay makes up most of your income but you dream of creating a lingerie line.

•The two of you agree to meet up for coffee but before that happens, Spencer gets bitten by a spider.

• Was he was bitten by a spider while investigating an unsub who killed his victims spider venoms or did he wander into the wrong room while touring a science facility?

•Derek convinces him to try out being a superhero. Derek is part of a secret superhero group (The Avengers) and would like his friend to join (once he knows Spencer can handle superhero work).

•Spencer calls you a few weeks later. “Hey, um, I wanted your opinion on something. What kind of materials do you recommend for a sort of… workout costume?”

•Thankfully, you’ve been asked weirder questions throughout your career so it didn’t even phase you.

•You respond in a rambling style that would’ve confused other people, but not Spencer.

•”They’ve actually done some test work on using spider webs for body armor but the tests didn’t yield the best results but I think…”

•He listened to you talk while he designed a web slinging contraption for his wrists, occasionally throwing in a comment or two.

•He visits your thrift store a few days later to discuss his little project a little more.

•When it becomes apparent his skills aren’t as advanced as yours, you offer your services and schedule him to come to your place over the weekend.

•It’s purely friendly… but you can’t help but if some less than platonic thoughts come up while looking at certain measurements.

•Those less than platonic feelings did make you blind to some of his questions.

But if anyone asked you would say you’ve had weirder requests.

•“Would it be possible to make it bullet proof? And um… do you know how to make the fingers more um… thin but not thin?”

•The two of you kept meeting up to discuss his costume and sometimes even other things.

You never met anyone who made Russian lit or etymology sound so exciting before.

•But all things come to an end and once his costume is done you don’t see him for another few weeks. It sucks but life goes on.

You ignore the hurt in your stomach when he doesn’t respond to your text about asking about the foreign film fest at the local theater.

•Then, one night after work, you find yourself being on the wrong end of a gun by a mugger.

•Before you can handover your wallet however, a dark figure jumps down and when you open your eyes, the mugger is stuck to the wall with a sort of strange white substance.

•The figure pulls you to the top of the roof and you can finally get a good look at him.

•Spandex that shined in the same weaving pattern as the combination of rayon and viscose? Hands that were 7.49 inches long and 3.60 inches wide? The mask you spent the last two weeks creating?

•You squinted at him.

•“Spencer?!?”

•One long conversation in Spencer’s apartment later, and you’re telling him to come back so you can modify his suit to actually be made for crime fighting.