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clubdionysus · 6 days

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[BAD DECISION #61] Jinxing It

warnings: (1) mention of toe socks, chess talk, showers, a lil bit of titty luvin, lots of kisses, oral (f&m), fingering, ass play (m), whimpery koo <3, a lil cum swapping, the starluvrs are v cute!!! lots of lil clues and hints about upcoming chapters!!

a/n: there's an authors note over on a03 so I'll you spare you my nonsense! but hi, welcome back!! sorry for the wait on this one <33 if you're only just discovering bd, hello---this is part of an on-going story and includes an established relationship, to be read in context with the rest of the story, it's not a oneshot ^^. for kofi subs, there'll be a BD 62 teaser in a few hours!

wc: 13.7K

bd total wc: 560k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

Life dissolves with Jeongguk. Days merge into one.

Like a tablet in water, or stardust into the atmosphere, time melts.

So does Jeongguk, though. He sinks into the bliss with you. Crumbles. Collapses. You’d go as far to say he turns into a supernova, like stars often do when they collapse.

He lets himself merge into a shared identity that he’s certain isn’t normal of such a fledgling relationship.

Two weeks from the auction, and days have rolled on by without much fuss. Deals have been finalised on winning bids, and Jeongguk’s had meetings with realtors, Yoongi by his side every step of the way. Everything has happened without much thought. Life has just been accepted; new plans and opportunities integrated into the trajectory you’re on. No meteors to throw you off course nor cosmic calamities to falter your future.

Your name is on the interview list for Shinwon’s position, and Jeongguk’s due to be accepting the keys for the building tomorrow. Everything is as it should be.

It’s terrifying, in a way.

You spent so long fearing the rug being swept from beneath your feet, but with Jeongguk’s help, carpets have been laid. They’re not budging.

And nor is he as he sits across from you, legs crossed, his chessboard keeping you apart. It’s a rarity to be on his bed not wrapped up in one another—but he’s almost as serious about chess as he is about you. Almost .

“You know what to do,” he grins, adamant that his crash course in the game was easy to follow. In reality, he’d moved a few pieces, said a few words, and promised with a smile that you’d be able to beat him.

His belief in you is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You’ve not made a single move without his gentle encouragement, most times resulting in you giving the match up on a silver platter.

The correct terminology evades you, and so do the rules. An app sits on your phone unused, a subscription running up a small fortune from a membership never used. It was set up back in the early days of knowing Jeongguk. You swore one day you’d be able to beat him—but life got busy, and quite frankly, chess is not your chosen way to unwind.

But spending time with Jeongguk is, and so you’ll take him in any capacity you can have him.

“Which one should I move?” You pout, utterly transfixed on the chess pieces. There’s a bewildered panic to your expression, brows furrowed over your glittery eyes, hand hovering to and fro over your side of the board.

You single in on the bishop. Look his way with hopeful, wide eyes. He shakes his head.

“Diagonals only,” he reminds you of how bishops move, at which point you realise it’s blocked in by pawns. Your hand moves to one of them, and he shrugs. “I mean… you can .”

“But should I?”

“You wanna capture the king,” he says, reaching across to dictate your movements. He secures your grip on the pawn, and gently pushes it up a single square to free the bishop’s pathway. “Shift this one up, just one space. Clear the diagonal if you want to move the bishop.”

You do as he says, putting the pawn back in its original position so that you can be the one to place it. Slowly, you repeat his instructions, pushing the pawn up the board while Jeongguk nods.

And then he grins in such a way that you just know you're about to curse him out.

He lifts his strategically placed knight. Knocks your freshly moved pawn. Claims the tile as his own.

“Rule number one,” He smirks, lip ring flipping in the corner of his pretty little mouth. “Never trust your opponent.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” you whine, looking at him with a faux sense of hurt and a very believable pout. “You’re my boyfriend . You’re supposed to help .”

“No moaning,” he dismisses your stropping, knowing he’s lost brownie points for his deception. He also knows he’ll earn your favour back soon enough, so whatever. “Now, what's your next move, baby? Go on.”

You study the board, and assess how different the opposing sides look.

This time, he’s going easy on you. Kind of. You’ve almost exclusively been guided by him for the last half an hour, over a string of short games, all of which have ended with your very quick and immediate defeat.

Jeongguk is too competitive for his own good. Jimin never wants to play against him, ‘cause he knows he’ll lose, too.

This is an indulgence for Jeongguk. He ought not to waste the opportunity—or worse yet, convince you never to play against him again.

He likes the idea of chess being an heirloom; the kind of skill he’ll teach his kids in the future. It’s integral to the very depths of his brain—how he works, and how his logical mind can jump and switch sometimes at the flick of a button—yet he rarely shares it with anyone else.

It’s only apt that you’d get an all-access pass.

Hovering over your now-free bishop, you narrow your eyes as you glance towards him.

He nods.

And so you move a pawn instead.

“I don’t trust you,” you tell him, because he told you not to. In a way, you are trusting him—just trusting that he’s a bullshitter.

What you don’t realise is that you’ve just moved the very pawn that’s been protecting your King, and preventing Jeongguk from getting an easy win.

“B,” he sighs, looking helplessly at the move you just made.

He couldn’t love you any more if he tried, but— fuck —he’ll never understand your brain.

“What?!”

He picks up his queen. Places it diagonally across from your exposed King. There’s nowhere for your King to go, other than in the direct line of his queen. He’s gone and fuckin’ done it again.

Check.

Mate .

Groaning, you realise what's happening and flop down onto your back. Your brain is fried. There's no way Jeongguk actually enjoys this.

"Not again," you whine, pretending to sob a little as you look up at Jeongguk's ceiling. It's without birds these days, but there are a few rogue strips of tape that remind you of your history within these four walls.

"B," Jeongguk laughs, clambering around the board to flop down with you. His arm rests over your tummy as his face aligns with yours. Might not have any birds above you, but the way you melt into his touch is just as deadly as it was the first time. You'll scorch a hole through his sheets with even the most innocent of encounters. His lips are a little pouty, smirk prevailing as he teases, "What did I tell you, huh? Protect your king."

"I tried!" You insist, your over-dramatic, distressed expression far too cute for him to care about playing anymore. He enjoys chess, but he enjoys you more.

"You left him wide open for me to take!"

"You could have gone easy on me!"

"I was!" He defends with a laugh, adamant that he could have taken you out in, like, two moves if he really wanted. "I swear you didn't listen to a single thing I told you—"

"I did! Listening to you is how you got that stupid pawn in the first place," you huff, putting your hand against the bottom of his throat to stop him from getting any closer. He doesn't deserve niceties in times like this.

He'd argue that the feeling of your sharp nails against his throat is incredibly nice.

He ignores your moaning. "I'll make you a deal."

"Go on."

"Strip chess."

"Pervert."

"For every move you make, I'll take an item of clothing off," he suggests with a glint in those starry eyes of his, ignoring your remark.

You assess the situation. Mentally make a checklist of his clothes. Sweats, a shirt, a (toe)sock on either foot, and underwear — that's only five moves, but then again, Jeongguk normally has your king trapped by that point.

"I think you're just trying to get me naked."

"I'm always trying to get you naked, B," he shrugs into his sheets, before tearing himself away and getting back into position on the opposite side of the board. "So are you gonna make it a challenge or not?"

"What happens if I take out one of your pieces?"

"If you do that," he hums, as if he's contemplating it. "I'll let you do that goddamn paper plane you wanna try out so bad."

Instantly, you sit up, like a puppy with a treat being teased in front of its snout. Your eyes are wide, smile incredulous.

It's been a while since Jeongguk made those paper planes in your bedroom. Only one has ever been done, and quite frankly, you think it might have been the catalyst to your friendship's demise, because how you could ever go back to 'just friends' afterwards was beyond you.

It's not like you didn't try to remain totally neutral about cock warming with him, but the way your heart swells whenever you do it now just goes to show how your bodies were made for one another. Like a turning of tides, or the cyclical rising and falling of the sun to make way for the moon, it's just as nature intended. He was made for you, and you him.

With a glint in your eye, you lean over to the chess board and swipe up one of his pawns at random. With a gasp, and a smile twitching at your lips, you exclaim, "Oh look! I won!"

"B," he laughs, but your expression remains entirely serious despite the light nature of it all.

"Lemme fuck your ass," You grin now, pleading ever so softly. "A deal is a deal."

"You didn't win."

"Says who?"

"Anyone who has ever played chess?"

"I've played, and I think I won. C'mon," you grin, positioning yourself on his lap. The chess piece is still in your hands as you lean down to nudge your nose up against his. "Face down, ass up for me, baby."

"You're in my way," he says.

"You could throw me across the room if you wanted to. I'm not stopping you."

"And I'm not throwing you across the room."

"Please," you pathetically beg.

"You really it want it, don't you?" He grins against your lips. "Huh?"

"Just wanna make you feel good."

"You always make me feel good," Jeongguk whispers, quietly deflecting the real reason why he hasn't let you do it yet.

Truth be told, Jeongguk is a little scared.

While yes, he's always been curious about pegging, he's never taken it that far before. Has never had the tools, shall we say, to explore by himself, and none of his exes or flings ever seemed too interested in it.

He wants it. Wants it with you. Just doesn't know how he'll react. Doesn't know what his body will do. Worries that things will take a turn for the worse and that you'll be so repulsed by him that you'll never want to have sex with him again, or that maybe he'll like it too much and that it'll be all he ever wants and it'd ruin just how good things are at the moment.

His thoughts distract him as your lips press feathery kisses against the thick column of his neck. Something about you, and how delicate you can be, just makes him melt into your touch. His hands come to clutch your hair, a pretty little smile forming on his lips.

"You don't have to do this," he quietly says, nails lightly scratching at your scalp. Your lips graze against his skin, before he gently pulls you back by the root of your hair. The sensation makes you want him even more than you already do. There's a love-drunk look of lust to your darling eyes, all glittery like they so often are as you look at him.

Reaching to cup his jaw, you marvel at how a man who looks like him can be as tender as he is. The world would give him permission to break hearts, if he wanted it, but he doesn't. All he seems to want is to adore, and be adored in return—and how lucky you are to be on the receiving end of it.

A slight guilt settles in your stomach. You know he'd give you the world if you asked for it, but he isn't giving you this.

"I'm only teasing," you tell him, which isn't strictly true. You do wanna do it, but your incessant begging is what you're joking about. It's not like you'll die if you can't fuck his ass (maybe). "I'll respectfully stay out of your ass unless requested otherwise."

He shakes his head. Laughs. Kisses you, 'cause he just can't help himself, then pulls you down into the sheets with him. "I give it a day until you're asking again."

Secretly, he wants you to ask again. It doesn't feel like pressure. Feels like validation; as if you want this even more than he does.

The thing is, you can't say no to a challenge. "Wanna bet?"

No.

But he can't resist either. "You're on."

Yoongi stands with his shoulders pressed to glass front door, keys looped on his fingers. The streets in this area are always quiet until the evening, minor hustle and bustle from delivery drivers dropping off stock to businesses down the alley disturbing the peace.

A small hotteok stall sits lopsided, supported by the building's exterior wall, red tarpaulin covering it from the weather and any inquisitive eyes. An elderly man runs it during the weekends, but for the rest of the week, it sits derelict. It's an eyesore, to say the least. Not the kind of thing that screams 'hot new restaurant' to anyone walking by.

It's as Yoongi's contemplating how to solve this problem, figuring the stallhand probably had an agreement with the previous owners, when Jeongguk comes into his line of vision. He tweaks a brow in Jeongguk's direction, almost as if to ask: what time do you call this?

Jeongguk's right on time. It's not a minute past twelve, which is exactly the time Yoongi told him to arrive.

Sale finalised, paperwork complete, Yoongi got given the keys this morning. It's a done deal. The building is his, and in turn, the restaurant is Jeongguk’s.

Despite his nonchalance, when Yoongi sees Jeongguk grin, he can't help but smile too.

"Shut up," Yoongi tells him. "We're serious businessmen. Don't get giggly with me."

"I'm not!" Jeongguk laughs, hands up in defence, until Yoongi puts his own hand out for Jeongguk to shake. Naturally, Jeongguk uses Yoongi's hand to pull him in for a hug instead. Patting his back, Jeongguk is almost fighting the urge to cry. He's waited so long for this. Worked so hard. Doesn't think any of it would be possible without Yoongi, but Yoongi would disagree.

"You better make the best fuckin' samgyeopsal this city has ever seen," Yoongi threatens with all the love in the world, breaking from the hug. Passing over the keys, he nods towards the doors. "Do us the honours."

Yoongi is fatherly in the way he never takes the glory for himself. Will be the kind of dad to build a lego castle and let his kid put the flag in place at the end of his labour.

Jeongguk doesn't mention it, but he's noticed the way Seoyeon has been the designated driver for the past few weeks; how she didn't drink at auction, and how Yoongi's been even more attentive than he usually is.

Could be nothing at all. Could just be a change in the weather.

But it could mean everything, and Jeongguk knows better than to intrude before being welcomed in on the news.

Pushing the key into the lock, Jeongguk is quietly enamoured with the fact the premises has a lock and key instead of the typical keypad locks that are usually in place. The metal grates against itself as he twists the lock open, and pushes the door open.

There's a separate side entrance for access to the upper floors.

The floors Jeongguk intends to be the restaurant already have a connecting staircase towards the back of the room, which will make it infinitely easier for staying out of Yoongi's hair whenever he's in the workshop.

In the light of day, the furniture from the previous owners now removed, it's so much easier for Jeongguk to envisage how everything will look; where the signage will hang, where the bar will go, and, most importantly, where the disco balls will hang.

"It's really happening," he exhales, as if he hadn't realised it at any earlier stage in the process.

Yoongi doesn't berate him. Instead, he takes a deep breath, too. Nods. "It's really happening."

Though he smiles, Jeongguk wishes he had a hand to hold as tightly as his lips press together. Wishes you were here. Knows you're busy with work, making up hours to account for the fact you'll have some time off at the end of the week for your interview at the Ryu.

Why you need an interview is beyond him. He thinks they're being ridiculous. Thinks that even entertaining the idea of hiring someone else is an insult. Got so wound up about it, ranting to Jimin while he was making dinner, that he burned his sauce a couple of nights ago. Is now on a talking while cooking ban. Jimin says Jeongguk can't be trusted to multitask. Jeongguk says Jimin is a little prick.

The day is lost to making plans; sketches drawn up on Jeongguk's ipad, discussions with Yoongi about how to go about getting liscences for the premises, and back and forth over what should be done with the top two floors.

The idea of Taehyung using the fourth floor as a studio is considered, but both of them know how much he adores his current place.

"Think he'd live there, if he could," Yoongi muses picking up a slice of napjak mandu with his chopsticks, dipping it into the tteokbokki sauce. They'd ordered from the place near his current workshop, and it makes him lament the idea of leaving it behind.

Perhaps he can keep them both. Use the smaller space as his own little sanctuary, and the third floor here as his public-facing premises. Might be a bit of a waste, but if he can afford the rent, then why not?

"Tell you what," Yoongi hums as he swallows down his food. "If you don't add something like this to the menu, I'm kicking you out."

"I'll put it on the secret menu," Jeongguk offers, knowing that it definitely won't be what he offers to punters. He makes a mean tteokbokki, but it doesn't fit the vision of what he wants for this place. "Well, what about Jimin? He could start up his own interior place, if he wants. He's got the money for it, and I know the office he's in at the moment has been stifling him. Lost out on, like, three big commissions in the last quarter because the boss went with some other prick's ideas. Jimin's wasted there."

Yoongi hums in agreement as he swallows down his food. "We could always get him to help out with the design of this place. I reckon he knows all the tricks for good energy."

Nodding, Jeongguk laughs. Picks up another rice cake and chows down on it as he adds, "Should have seen him when we moved into our current place. Man had a compass out to align a sofa with the right energy."

"Sounds about right," Yoongi grins, resting his chopsticks back down against the edge of the bowl. "Well, what about your missus, then? Would she want gallery space? Somewhere for curation?"

Jeongguk chokes on his rice cake, and it's not because of the spice.

"She's not my missus—" he corrects, but then decides he doesn't want to "—at least, not yet. And she's got a big interview with The Ryu this week. I'm not sure opening her own gallery is on her agenda, but I can put the feelers out—and like… I don't know. Wouldn't it be a bit much? We spend so much time together, already. She'd get sick of me if I was working two floors below."

"Would you get sick of her?"

"Don't be stupid. No."

"Exactly," Yoongi says as if it's obvious—which, in all fairness, he thinks it is. "The pair of you are in a perpetual honeymoon phase."

Jeongguk shakes his head, as if he isn't beaming. "Shut up. Just got a good thing going—and hey, you're hardly one to talk. How's Seoyeon?"

"Good, yeah," Yoongi nods, but doesn't divulge any further. As much as Jeongguk is dying to ask, he holds back. "She wants you all round for dinner soon, so expect an invite in the group chat."

"For any reason?" Jeongguk baits Yoongi, cause he just can't help himself.

Unlucky for him, Yoongi is as stoic as can be. "You know Seo. She loves any excuse for a dinner party. Has started making her own pasta and I think she wants tasters."

"B makes a mean pasta," Jeongguk says, because his thoughts so often wind back to you, and he just can't help himself. "I'm sure she'll be buzzing to try Seoyeons."

A sense of pride washes over Yoongi's features. "Gah, when did you grow up, Jeongguk? Practically married, aren't you?"

Dismissive in how he shakes his head, Jeongguk can't help but let a bashful smile grow on his face. The soft lights overhead glimmer down him, putting those stars Jeongguk adores so much right back in his eyes. He'll never get rid of you. Will eternally carry the evidence of how utterly smitten he is.

Should you ever leave him, Jeongguk thinks he'd simply die of a broken heart. Wouldn't know how to walk if it weren't in the direction of you. Would stumble and fall until he inevitably wound up back at your door like a wounded puppy.

So perahps Yoongi is right. Maybe it would make sense to offer you the space—but you've got your own agenda. Your own dreams. Jeongguk can't just entrap you in his.

The thing is, once your shift is up, and you're heading to the restaurant premises to see Jeongguk, you can't help but feel like this is a dream come true for you.

His ambition and drive have rubbed off on you; encouraged you up a career path you once thought was overgrown with thorns and rubble. Has shown you that all you need is a little bit of elbow grease and a pair of secateurs to go after what you want.

It's dark by the time you arrive. Lights from the other establishments flood the streets, but the blinds are closed on the restaurant for a little privacy. A handwritten 'under new management' sign is taped to the front door in Jeongguk's signature penstroke. A little smiley face accents it; a show of how he feels, you presume.

Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you dial through to him, 'cause you've no idea how to get in, nor if he's even actually there. The building is just on the way home from the art cafe, and you'd left Jeongguk's place that morning to a very smiley boyfriend instead of his usual 'don't go' pout, so you figure he's spent all day busy with exciting plans.

"Sorry, not interested," Jeongguk's voice purrs through the speaker, as if you're some kind of cold-calling saleswoman with nothing half-decent to offer him.

"What if I told you I'm outside the restaurant and that I'm naked under my clothes?"

"Aren't we all naked under our clothes?"

"Just open the door," you grin down the phone as he comes into view through the glass doors.

He's got the kind of look on his face that you'd expect: pouty lips with heavy-lidded eyes. Softening ever so slightly when he notices the bunch of wildflowers poking out from the tote bag you've got hooked over your shoulder, his eyes are incapable of ever hiding his true feelings.

Mild confusion ( did someone get you flowers?) dismissed with easy understanding—they're from the stall he always buys you flowers from, so he knows you got them yourself.

It's very conflicting to adore you and to also want to fuck you into next Tuesday, but it garners you a gaze nobody else is ever lucky enough to receive from him. You cherish it. Think about it near-constantly whenever he's not by your side.

"You're a terrible saleswoman," he scolds so softly it feels like praise.

"And yet here you are, answering the door for me," you shrug with a knowing smile, sure that'd he take whatever you sold him. Would buy sand, water, air from you. Would let you swindle him.

"And yet here I am."

Hanging up, you mouth 'open it' through the door, and he does as he's told—kind of.

Blocking the now half-open door, he childishly asks, "What's the password?"

"I love you?"

"Ew. Gross. Get a room. No."

"Fuck you.”

"Not the password either, but I'm more than willing."

"Ew. Gross," you imitate him, gagging a little for an extra immaturity. "Hmm… Byeol is the best?"

"Ddaeng."

"Jimin sucks?"

"Ddaeng… but I approve. Good guess."

"Gimme a hint."

"It's the name of the restaurant."

The confidence that comes with the restaurant being his now is nothing short of a miracle. He's so certain of everything these days, in a way he never was before—but why shouldn't he? He got the girl. Got the dream. There's nothing he can't do. Statistically, he's two for two. A winner by all counts. A gold medalist in his very own Olympics.

"You've never told me what you want to name it!" You protest with a whine, thinking he's being entirely unfair.

It's not like you haven't asked a million times over. He's just been keeping it underwraps. Was scared that speaking it into existence would jinx it. Would refuse with a coy grin, and assurance that he'd reveal it soon enough.

Truth be told, Jeongguk's gone back and forth over names. It's probably changed ten times since he's known you, but then you said something at the fundraising auction, and everything sort of clicked into place.

A name was coined and it wouldn't stop embossing itself into Jeongguk's dreams; the branding, the signage, everything. A new vision of what he wanted spawned like lava onto a mountainside. You sparked a volcano he didn't even realise existed, and it's solidified into molten rock.

"I'll cut you a deal," you offer, knowing that you'll never get it and he'll never ease. Shrugging your shoulder to gesture towards the bag, you begin your enticement. "I've got cold beer and hot burgers from that place you like down the road. They're all yours in you let me in—if not, I'm going home and Danbi will—"

"Say no more," Jeongguk pushes the door open and grabs your hand, pulling you into the vacant restaurant with him. The door clicks close behind you, and Jeongguk spins you around so that you're stood infront of him, facing the large room. Arms wrapping around your waist, Jeongguk rests his chin on your shoulder, gently pressing a kiss to your neck. "Welcome in."

It's a lot to take in all at once. The room stands empty, save for the camping chairs and table Yoongi and Jeongguk had coversed around earlier, Jeongguk's ipad resting on the table with a low battery warning on the dimly lit screen. There's paperwork scattered on the surface—old utilities letters that they were using to sort out the new bills—and a bag of trash tied up on the floor from their lunch.

"I don't smell burgers," Jeongguk mumbles against your neck.

"I was lying."

"You've no shame."

Turning your head, you let him raise his nose to yours, a feathery kiss greeting your lips.

Whenever your doe-eyed boy greets you like this, you always feel a bit like snow white; as if a dozen tiny creatures will flock to you and bestow their love upon you.

It'd be fruitless, mind you, for none of them could even come close to how deeply Jeongguk adores you. He'd sit in the corner, jealous and bratty as they fawned over you. Would hate not being the object of your affection. Would strop until your focus was back on him.

"I'll order some," you promise, but Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Won't be here much longer. We can pick some up on the way home."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, baby," he tenderly whispers, punctuating himself with a slightly firmer kiss, before pulling away from you. Walking into the middle of the room, he holds out his arms. Grins. "Welcome."

"It's a pleasure," you grin, freely stepping into the space now, looking around with awestruck eyes knowing that this is his . "Holy shit, Gguk."

"Yeah," he agrees with your sentiment. "Mad, innit?"

"Just a little."

When you think back to the Jeongguk you first met—the one who spent hours upon hours studying for his exams, all the while working at the bar of an admittedly shitty club—you can't help but feel overwhelmed with pride. He worked himself to the bone for his dreams.

The space is large enough for Jeongguk to go wild with it. There's no end to his possibilities. He's got an arsenal of weapons in his back pocket in the form of his friends—Yoongi can fit the place out, Jimin can help with the design work, Taehyung can make a central art piece, and Namjoon can get it featured in the paper. Of course, he won't take advantage of his access to them, but knowing how willing his friends always are to help out, it's kind of like a no-brainer. He's got all the tools needed for success.

"And right here," he points up, standing in the middle of a square marked out with tape on the floor. It's large and in the centre of the room—the intended space for a central bar and banchan preparation spot, flipping the conventions of traditional barbecue places on their heads. Wants the food to quite literally be at the heart of the restaurant. "Is where the disco balls will be."

For a second, you think you miss-hear him, but the way his smiles grows when confronted with your confusion only proves you heard perfectly fine.

Sitting on one of the camping chairs Yoongi and Jeongguk had set up earlier, you've been watching him talk you through his vision for the place. It sounds incredible—just like him, but in restaurant version.

"Is that not a health and safety hazard?" You giggle, desperate to get up and stand with him, but feeling the need to maintain distance. He's having his moment. He doesn't need a shared stage—and yet here he is, announcing that the very embodiment of you will be centre stage for the foreseeable.

Jeongguk shrugs. "Haven't thought that far ahead. There's gonna be disco balls here whether they like it or not, though."

Realistically, if the health and safety inspectors tell him no disco balls, there'll be no disco balls—but he won't be happy about it. Will be pouty. You both know he's just being facetious, and that he'll comply with whatever is asked of him.

"It's my restaurant, baby," he reminds you, holding out his hands, cause he wants you closer. Naturally, you do ass requested, and join him in his square. His arm slips around your waist, a kiss firmly being pressed to your forehead before your chin leans on his chest. Looking up at him, it's a wonder that you're able to have conversations that last more than a single back and forth. A miracle, even. "I can do what I want."

There's something so incredibly sexy about this cocksure arrogance. He's not the same guy you met back in the confines of Dionysus, and while you adored him back then, you adore him even more now.

"You're sexy when you talk business," you hum, as his hand dip a little further south to squeeze your ass. "Home?"

He nods, a pretty smile hanging off his lips. "Mine or yours?"

"Yours is closer," you tell him, pulling away, linking your fingers with his as you do so, dragging him with you. Hooking your bag up over your shoulder, you're reminded of the flowers. "Oh—these are for you, by the way."

Passing them over, you're not surprised by his confusion.

"For me?"

The bunch of wildflowers looked pretty big in your hands, but remarkably small in his. You have to make a considered effort to not groan.

"Mhmm," you nod with a sweet smile. "A congratulations."

Jeongguk's head pushes back a little into his neck, shoulders broadening as his smile forms. He quickly tilts his head to the side and then back again in the way he often does whenever his brain is processing something new.

"Never had flowers before."

"Nice, isn't it?" You grin, knowing that nothing beats fresh flowers when it comes to small pockets of expressed admiration.

With a bashful nod, Jeongguk feels like he should feel emasculated, but can't quite work out the way he actually does feel. All he knows is that he likes it. And that he wants to get home. And that he wants you in his bed. Naked, preferably.

His thoughts dart back and forth to the last time you were in his room. Gets him hot. Blushing.

Thankfully, you don't seem to notice—or if you do, you don't mention it. Why would you? It's cute.

"What time is your interview tomorrow?" Jeongguk asks as he makes sure the door is locked behind you both.

"One in the afternoon," you reply with a certain nonchalance, as if you're unphased, which Jeongguk knows is absolute bullshit. "Hobes said he'll work my shift if I buy him a month's supply of Sprite, so I've got, like, 48 cans arriving tomorrow."

He would have done it for free, but he's a tough bargainer and you're just an easy sell when it comes to making the people you care about happy.

"His blood will turn into sprite," Jeongguk laughs, linking his hand with yours once more as you head down the road to the nearest subway entrance. "How are you feeling about it? We can practise interview questions later, if you like."

Shaking your head, you smile. "It'll just make me nervous, and at the moment, I'm pretty calm about things. Thank you, though."

"Well, if you change your mind," Jeongguk reinforces the offer, before you redirect the conversation and get him babbling about the restaurant—projected timelines, contractors, suppliers. There's so much to do, and yet it doesn't feel overwhelming in the slightest. Not yet, at least.

With a pit stop at the burger place as promised, the journey home is effortless. Intrinsic by this point.

Shoes off by the door, Jimin is out for a company dinner, so it's just the pair of you.

"Has he spoken with you about Nabi, yet?" You ask as you grab some condiments from the kitchen, while Jeongguk fills a vase with water.

"God, no," Jeongguk laughs. "He used to tease me all the time about you, but now he can't even look me in the eyes 'cause he's worried I'll ask about it. Idiot."

"He used to tease you? About me?" You hum, a little smug at this little snippet of information.

"You know what he's like," Jeongguk reminds you, 'cause it's not like you've ever been spared from Jimin's teasing. "Doesn't know how to not be irritating. Character flaw. Think he was born that way."

Despite his annoying tendencies, Jimin is adored by pretty much everyone he meets. Jeongguk doesn't say such things to be mean, but rather because he views him like a sibling.

"If anyone knows how to handle him, it's Nabi," you muse, thinking back to Pohang. "He'd have driven me insane organising the Jilympics."

"Don't call it that," Jeongguk smiles at how ridiculous his best friend is. Delicately arranging the flowers, Jeongguk's sense of perfectionism comes out once more. "He's a little narcissist. He'll sense his ego being inflated from miles away, and then his head won't be able to fit through doors." Tweaking a yellow flower to move it more centrally, Jeongguk shakes his head. "And to think the first time you were in this apartment—"

"Shut up," you groan, not wanting to be reminded of it. "Everybody makes mistakes."

"Alright, Hannah Montana," Jeongguk teases you. "It's just kinda wild, isn't it? How everything has just worked itself out?"

"Don't," you say with a glint in your eye. "You'll jinx it."

Perhaps it's foolish—naive, even—but he doesn't think it's possible. Thinks that this is all set in stone. That your names have been etched on a cliffside somewhere, and that's where you'll remain forever more.

He forgets that cliffs erode. That the weather is unpredictable, and life even more so.

He's always been cautious. Reluctant of counting eggs.

But he’s hungry. Ravenous. The first at the dinner table, and the last to leave. Bites off more than he can chew. Chokes and splutters in the wake of it all, every single damn time.

It’s a flaw he’ll admit to having, but why can’t vices be virtues? Why can’t he be optimistic? Why shouldn’t he hope for the best? He spent so long living in a perpetual state of fear, and it never did him any good. Wasn’t until he started opening himself to the idea of things working out okay that they actually started heading in that direction.

“I’ll do no such thing,” he assures you, reaching for a pan to start with his second course. Again, he’s hungry in all aspects of the word. Hasn’t even had his burgers yet, but he’s a growing boy, or so he’d have you believe. Better to just get it cooked first, and save him the hassle of getting up again later. “You want some?”

He nods towards the empty saucepan, but doesn’t need to explain what he’s making. You know it’ll be instant bibimyeon.

“A little,” you nod, knowing that this relationship is gonna be terrible for your waistline. Opening up his fridge, you pull a can of soda from the fridge. Jeongguk doesn’t really ever buy soda, unlike you and your minor peach soda addiction, but take-out places always chuck a complimentary can of something in with your orders, so he’s got quite a stockpile now.

“You want a beer or something instead?” He asks, as he begins to prepare the instant noodles in the most embellished way he possibly can. Spices, sauces, you name it, he’s always adding something—and it’s always delicious.

Cracking the can open, you set it down and swipe the camera of your phone up to snap a picture of him; to document him in his element. “Nah, it’s okay. Want a clear head for tomorrow.”

Jeongguk smiles, hearing the synthetic shutter of your phone clicking. “Obsessed.”

“So?” You grin, immediately swiping across to open up Instagram and preserve the moment on your story. “You love it.”

Though he doesn’t reply, he does look in your direction with a smile that would only confirm your words.

Together, you fall into a casual rhythm, you perched up on a barstool while he cooks. Conversation darts from A to B, Y to Z. There’s no topic of conversation too obscure nor taboo for you to realm into the depths of, but there’s also something comforting about how you can just natter about the weather, how he should get his hair cut, what’s on at the cinema.

By the time he’s eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, you’re already in the shower. It’ll be an early night. You’ve both been working today, and both have important things to get done the next day.

There’s no objection from you as he taps on the door and asks to come in. You hadn’t locked it deliberately. Jimin’s out, and even if he’d have come home, he’d have heard the shower going—or Jeongguk would have told him. There’s no real worry there.

“Been looking forward to this all day,” Jeongguk admits as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck, pulling it over his head in that boyish way he so often does. Neither of you really care about being naked—it’s a daily occurrence at this point—but seeing him get undressed makes your heart feel all jelly-like and void of structure. The chambers melt, and so do you.

It’s not just attraction, but affection. Acknowledgement that he doesn’t mind being vulnerable with you. That the things humans do to renew themselves — eat, shower, sleep — are things he wants to do with you. He doesn’t want to be full if you’re hungry, sleep while you’re starved of rest, nor wash away the traces of you. Renewal without you just doesn’t make sense to him.

“Me too,” you quietly say as he joins you. The water pitter-patters down on you both, his hair wetting before laying flat against his forehead. When his deft hands push it away, it always falls back.

Instinctively, your arms wrap around his waist, his around your shoulders, the embrace akin to coming home.

“We should both just quit our jobs and do this forever,” Jeongguk muses, almost sleepy in how he mumbles his words against the top of your head.

“Someone’s gotta pay the water bill,” you smile against his bare chest.

“That’s why I live with Jimin,” Jeongguk replies, tone cheeky and warm.

The smile on your face sweetly settles into something a little more neutral as you outwardly consider your own living situation. “Lease is up soon, yanno. Mine and Dans.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, wet hair tangling over itself against his skin. He holds you just as tightly. “Haven’t started looking for new places, yet.”

“I’ve still got a few months left on mine,” Jeongguk says, pulling back to reposition the shower head. Just wants to hear you a little more clearly. “My bed is basically yours anyways.”

It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he’s insinuating—but it also doesn’t take a genius to know that it wouldn’t be the right thing for you both, yet.

Your eyes are soft as you shake your head. “I’ve a whole apartment's worth of stuff, Gguk. I can’t just move into your room. Need my own space.”

He frowns, reaching for the shampoo. “You can. And I’ll even move my statues.”

“You mean your action figures?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, and then you’re giggling, and any negative thoughts Jeongguk could have about you saying ‘no’ dissolve into nothingness, like water running down the drain. He passes you over the shampoo once he’s gotten himself some, and adds, “People pay good money for a collection like mine.”

“You mean you spent a fuck ton of money on them?”

“We’ve all got our weaknesses,” he protests. “You’ve got so many clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever been into your room when there hasn’t been an avalanche of clothes on the chair, wardrobe and dressers bursting at seams—”

“Exactly,” You laugh. “Now imagine all of that in your room.”

He takes a second. Visualises it as he lathers up the foamy shampoo in his hair and almost hisses. “Yeah. You’re right. I take it back. Get your own place.”

Rolling your eyes, you flick a little water in his direction, as if it makes a difference.

He grins, teeth on show, lip ring doing the thing that just makes you melt.

“See,” you grin right back. “I’m always right.”

The rest of your shower is littered with dumb conversations and stolen kisses between shampoo rinses. In fact, it’s how the rest of the evening continues. Some dumb action film plays on the tv, and then Jeongguk finds a dumb youtube quiz, and you giggle into the early hours over some other dumb shit. Dumb, dumb, dumb and oh so totally in love.

The apartment issue lingers in the back of Jeongguk’s mind, though, and questions dance on the tip of his tongue. He tries to brush them away, but the mint of his toothpaste isn’t enough to erase them. They taste sour, and he knows the only way to rid the sensation is to speak them into existence.

Gone midnight, the city is still alive. His curtains are open, because you’ve started to get used to the way he likes to sleep, and find it far easier to wake up early when the sun is giving you a warm welcome to the day. Funny, how things change. How willing he was to change his habits for you, and how seamlessly yours have changed to fit him. You’re better for knowing one another, or so it feels.

The light pollution gives his bedroom a soft glow, and with every change of advertisement on the billboards across the street, the hue changes. Like his own personal mood lamp, it’s become a staple of his home. It’s blue, now, and so is he when he considers the fact that you haven’t yet reached the stage of sharing a home.

Your arm is looped over his waist, ‘cause he’d decided that the role of the little spoon would be going to him. Fingers interlocked with yours, he has no interest in ever letting go.

“B?”

“Mhmm?”

“Is Dan definitely moving in with Tae?”

“Think so.”

Jeongguk doesn’t immediately reply, but you leave space open for him. A question like that didn’t come out of the blue. It’s something he’s been ruminating on, no doubt.

When he finally does speak, the weight of his soft, if not somewhat pouty, words crush down on your chest in a way that you can’t quite explain. Hell, in a way you don’t want to explain, because it would mean admitting that a man has such power over you (even if said man is Jeon Jeongguk).

“They’ve always been one step ahead of us,” he laments.

And then he leaves silence for you. Knows that you always have a response of some kind that will settle his woes. Feels guilty that you’re always cleaning up the messes of his loose lips, but would be a liar if he said he didn’t crave the sweet nothings you soothe him with.

“They’re on an entirely different path, baby,” you gently press a kiss into his shoulder. He’s so warm and powder-fresh from his shower that you can’t help but want to cling to him like a koala bear. Most importantly, though, you don’t want him to move away. Space to talk is fine, but physical space? God, no. “There's no use comparing.”

But Jeongguk is a glutton for punishment. Will continue making himself feel small for the sake of his perceived flaws.

“Loved you before Taehyung even knew who Danbi was,” Jeongguk pouts, ‘cause he’s in his head again, going round in circles when he really needn’t be. You know he does this, though. It doesn’t surprise nor concern you. If anything, it reassures you, because his willingness to share these thoughts just signposts how far you’ve both come. He used to stew and sour over things like this. Now, he shares his burdens “But they’re doing all these big milestones first. They were a couple, went on vacation, and now moving in together. All before us.”

“It’s not a competition,” you sweetly laugh. “Their relationship couldn’t be more different to ours. Plus I hardly consider a weekend in Jeju a big vacation—we can literally do that this weekend, if you want.”

You’re not sure why you’ve never been away together. Busan is always lovely, but it’s a short drive, and is somewhere Jeongguk still considers to be home. It’s not a holiday. Perhaps you should rectify that. It's better spoken about during the daylight hours, but always a little nicer to dream at night. Make silly, fantastical plans that you could always turn into reality, if you really wanted.

“Gguk,” you softly continue. “As much as I love them both, we’re literally so different from them. Our relationship was never gonna be like theirs.”

“You think?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, lips brushing against the bare skin of his shoulder. “Well, I mean, he lets her peg him for starters—”

Jeongguk turns so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t fall out of bed. Even in the darkness of his room at night, the open curtains mean his shock is easy to make out. “Does he actually?!”

Giggling, you roll onto your back, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. Truth is, you’ve no idea. Just said it to be a dick.

“Probably,” you say, admitting that you don’t know. You just knew it would cause a reaction. Ease the tension, somewhat. “He’s like, obsessed with her. Would let her do anything she wants.”

Sinking back down into the sheets with you, Jeongguk wraps his arm over your body now. Pulls you close. Presses a kiss to your neck, and says, “You lost the bet, y’know? Can’t even go 24 hours without thinking about fucking my ass, can you?”

It sounds like a complaint, but the way his lips seem unable to stop pressing wet kisses against your throat would prove otherwise. Your hand tangles in his hair, scratching his scalp in approval.

“Cute that you think I haven’t been thinking about it all day,” you tease, biting back the small murmur of a moan that’s just begging to escape from his touch.

You often have thoughts about him throughout the day, both pure and impure. It’s not like you mean to—it’s just that there’s something about Jeongguk that is impossible to forget. Like a class-A drug, you linger from high to high, using thoughts about him to sustain your comedown until you can see him again.

He is your boyfriend, though. Would be weirder if you weren’t a little obsessed.

“Liar,” he scolds. “I picked your clothes up after our shower. Your underwear were dry.”

“You were inspecting my underwear? Freak,” you tease, because quite honestly the idea of him studying your underwear in the hopes of finding arousal is kinda hot, even if a little perverted. “And maybe it’s because you don’t get me excited.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk ignores your insult. Instead, his hand creeps down the mound of your pussy, pausing before he sinks his fingers between your thighs. “So you’ll be dry right now, then?”

“I’ll be just like the Gobi,” you assure him with that tone of defiance he's grown to adore. “Try me.”

You don’t know why you’re offering yourself up like this, ‘cause you know it’s only gonna end up one way.

“You’re such a fuckin’ liar,” he smirks—and then is proven correct as his fingers slide between your slick folds with ease. A gasp escapes from your lips as he casually brushes past your clit, paying it no attention whatsoever. “And even if you weren’t, there’s like, five bigger deserts than the Gobi. Sounds like it’s a pretty easy drought to rectify—but fuckin’ hell, B. My pretty girl and her filthy mouth. Full of lies, isn’t it? You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“No,” you purr, hips languidly rolling to intensify the sensation he’s facilitating. After all, he’s right. There’s nothing dry about the situation between your legs. “Never told a lie in my life.”

His teeth nip at your neck as his body presses up against your side, the thick ridge of his cock letting you know that you most certainly get him excited.

“You’re so full of shit, B,” he quietly says, lips from a pretty little kiss against the edge of your jaw. “Told so many lies, haven’t you, hm? Like when you used to tell people we were just friends?”

The desperate sigh that escapes your mouth only fuels him on even more.

“You remember the first time I touched you like this, huh?” He husks against your ear. “Those pretty eyes of yours watching us in the mirror. You can see us now, can’t you?”

Nudging his head against yours, he encourages you to look in the direction of his mirror. You always sleep on the side of the bed closest to it, but you rarely pay it any attention these days. The pair of you are obscured—bed sheets and shadows hiding what he’s doing to you—but the eroticism is just as potent as it always was.

“Gguk,” you rasp, back arching when he strokes against your clit just right.

Restraint is something that you wish you had been gifted with, but alas—you are just a girl, and he is just the sexiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a bed with. Of course you melt with every little thing he does.

“What is it, baby?” His index finger pushes into the seeping entrance of your cunt, just once, twice, to really get you moaning. “You like it when your boyfriend touches you?”

Something about Jeongguk referring to himself like that always gets you hot, but it’s partially because of the way he almost growls when he does it. You know it’s a turn-on for him. Know that his cock is throbbing. Know he loves calling himself yours.

Tugging on his arm, you encourage him to move on top of you. It’s late, and you should both be getting a good night's rest, but whatever. In half an hour, you’ll both be away with the fairies. If anything, this will help you fall asleep quicker.

“Thought you wanted an early night?” he husks against your lips, finishing his question with a kiss that lasts far longer than any words spoken. His firm lips part yours as your legs wrap around his hips as they grind up against yours.

“And I thought you said whoever speaks about fucking your ass next loses?” You smile against his lips, knowing that he definitely must have a twisted idea of what punishment is. “How is this losing?”

“We never set out terms,” he reminds you, unable to stop himself from kissing you between sentences. “But maybe it's not about losing. Maybe it’s about winning.”

“Okay?” You entertain his flirt, giggling between those kisses he just can’t seem to stop giving you. “So what are you winning?”

He pretends to give it thoughtful consideration. Squints his eyes and looks away as if contemplating one of life's great questions. Why are we here? What is the point of life? How do I want my girlfriend to make me cum tonight?

Jeongguk presses a kiss to your neck, nose nudging against your skin. He’s feline-like. Purry. Pathetic. Just how you like him.

“You haven’t sucked me off in a while,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your hand laces in his hair, a soft moan humming from your lips. There’s a softness to the slow movements of your bodies. A comfort. A desperation. Unadulterated devotion. “So maybe that?”

You laugh at his shamelessness. Press a kiss to his temple, still scratching at his scalp. “I gave you a blowjob, like, two days ago, baby.”

“I know,” he whines like a wounded puppy, all docile and dejected. “It’s been so long I might die.”

“Hmm?” You hum in response, pushing on his waist ever so slightly until he gets the message to roll onto his back. He does as he's told, because he really is just a puppy dog beneath it all. Well-trained and desperate for a treat.

Following the movements of his body, you naturally ease into position on top of him. Legs straddled either side of his waist, you raise yourself up into a seated position, earning you a grunt of approval from Jeongguk.

The way his hands immediately reach up to play with your chest is curious, considering he still plays himself off as an ass guy. Strong with his movements, he grips the softness of your tits, his hips gently pulsing up against you.

“These might help prolong my life expectancy,” he says. “Best stress balls known to man.”

He seems quite content like this. Eyes closed, a smile hangs off his lips like he’s in a serene state of bliss. You cock your brow, unable to fight a smile, too.

“Did you just call my tits… balls?”

One of his eyes cracks open. “No?”

“You definitely did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Did—”

“Byeol,” he reprimands your diversion of the topic. “C’mon. Business, baby.”

“Is that all I am to you, huh?” You say, reaching for his wrist so that you can pull your hairband from it. He lets you do so and looks on with salacious curiosity as you begin to tie your hair up in a ponytail. “Just a transaction?”

“Mhmm,” he nods, his own hair tangling against his pillow as he does so. “A bird for a bird, remember?”

“Are we not past the point of the birds?”

“Well, yeah,” he says as if it’s totally obvious. “Thought we were gonna do a plane?”

Jeongguk’s reference back to the paper planes that he crafted in your bedroom makes your heart seize. You know what he means by that. Knows that it’s permission, in a way. That he wants what you want, even if he doesn’t outwardly say it.

“Are we?”

“Well we’re not gonna do anything if you keep up with the small talk,” he fondly teases you, pulling you back down so your chest is against his. One of his hands wraps itself in your ponytail and tugs ever so gently. A soft moan escapes your lips, much to his enjoyment. “I like your hair like this.”

In all honesty, he just likes being able to pull on it. Loves your hair no matter how it’s done.

“You’ll like it even more in a few minutes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw before you embark on your journey south.

It’s intrinsic, how you work his body. A routine so well learned it’s not even given a second thought anymore. You know how to make him tick. The way he groans when you press pretty kisses down his collarbones and the way his hips roll when you drag the pink of your tongue over his pebbled nipples.

His hand clutches in your hair, keeping you in that position, encouraging you to pay a little extra attention to his nipples for a change. It’s not often that he wants too much focus on his chest, but he’s so turned on that even the slightest touch is making him go feral.

“Shit,” he hisses when your teeth gently press down around his nipple before you suck it ever so gently. “You’re so fuckin’ good at that.”

He’s never cared for it before. In all honestly, he actively didn’t like it when previous partners did it. There’s something about you that subverts all his desires. You’ve changed him. Altered his understanding of his body. Opened him up to so much more than he’d ever considered before.

Still, you’ve got an agenda, and unfortunately for him, it doesn’t involve his chest. He lets you move down, one hand lazily hanging by your head, the other resting over his chest. His thumb strokes over his pebbled nipple, still wet from your tongue, the pleasure of your touch sending him into a state of ecstasy.

Your body shuffles down, and you both reposition yourselves. No longer are you straddling, but rather you’re between his legs. His thighs are dappled in kisses from you, before your palms rest flat to his inner thighs, spreading him just right.

Alternating between slow kisses and languid drags of your tongue, you teeter ever so close to his thick, solid cock, but never quite touch it. Every time you get close, he whines, cock twitching.

There’s a satisfaction to be found in the way his body responds to your touch. His desperation is painful. Visceral. All he wants is you.

And because you can’t bear to see him in pain (whether or not because he’s so turned on he might just die), you concede. Give him what he wants.

Hands on his thighs, you let a little spit pool on your tongue before slowly dragging the tip of your tongue up his shaft.

“Fucking hell,” he curses, writhing from the contact.

You smile, and the lightness of your breath against the wet streak of your tongue makes him shiver.

The tip of his cock is already leaky with precum, his eagerness to be inside you so pathetically obvious. You avoid it, instead opting to repeat your previous moves. Slowly, you lick up his fat length, tongue flat as can be. You want him to feel as much of you as he can. Want him whining— begging —for your pussy.

If the precum seeping from his tip is a sign of desperation, then heaven only knows what the fuckin’ mess between your legs is. Every stroke of your tongue against him only serves to make you want him just as badly as he wants you.

Your hand reaches to wrap around his shaft, gently stroking his foreskin. Your tongue flicks against the base of his tip, right where you know he’s the most sensitive.

It’s no surprise when his grip on your ponytail tightens.

But it is a surprise when he lets go.

“Hm?” You chirp, looking up, just to make sure he’s all good.

He is—he just isn’t looking at you to confirm it. Instead, his upper body twists ever so slightly as he reaches for his bedside drawer.

You know it’s got a host of indecent artifacts—his sex toys, condoms, polaroids of you that are for his eyes only—but don’t give it much thought. Figure maybe he’s after a condom to make himself last longer, until you feel him tapping at your shoulder with the side of a small plastic bottle.

He doesn’t say anything.

Not immediately, at least.

What he wants is something he can’t really bring himself to ask for. Hopes that you’ll work it out for yourself.

As you take the bottle from him, a small chirp echoes from your throat, as if you’re asking for clarification. Again, Jeongguk hopes you’ll work it out. That he won’t have to shamelessly tell you what he desperately wants, cock twitching and leaking precum on his stomach.

The way you pause as you study the bottle, trying to read the text in the dim light of Jeongguk’s room, only adds to his apprehension—until he hears a soft smile exhaling from your lips when you realise exactly what it is: lube .

Never usually required, thanks to the fact Jeongguk makes you resemble a waterfall from just a look in your direction, you know the lube isn’t for you. It’s for him.

And given the state of conversations around sex over the past week or so, you know what he’s asking for.

After all, he’s the one who wrote that damn airplane in the first place. Told you straight up that he liked ass play way back in the days of the sticky notes (some of which remain on his wall, yet to be conquered).

His drawer only really has his things in it, though. You’ve not got any of your toys at his place. This is a preliminary. A follow-up, almost, to the night spent in the Min’s garden, doing things that probably scared a few dozen nocturnal animals.

“Yeah?” You encourage, lips pressing to his upper thigh. His body adjusts ever so slightly, as if he’s shy. Your hand wraps around his shaft, slowly rolling his foreskin up and down his length in just the right way to get his hands gripping his sheets.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he rasps through the pleasure of having you touch him. “Just want you to do it.”

“Talk about what?” You tease, ‘cause there’s no way he’ll actually enjoy what he’s asking for if he keeps being this uptight about it all. Relaxation is key.

“B,” he groans, this time out of frustration—and so you know you need to be the one to take the lead.

It just doesn’t feel right to take the lead, knowing he’s a little bit tense. You’ve always been so clear and consistent with each other when it comes to consent, and while you know what he wants, you wanna hear him say it first.

So you leave the bottle of lube next to his thigh and clamber up his body. Legs straddling his waist, you’re pleased that his hands come to stroke your thighs without a second thought. Conversely, your hands softly hold his cheeks, bringing him in for half a dozen pretty little kisses.

“Words are important. I’m not gonna be crude about it,” you tell him, ‘cause it makes a change to the way you joke around with one another. “I just love you, and I want to make you feel good.”

Jeongguks nose nudges back up against yours, as if to plead for more kisses (of which you give him, willingly).

“I love you more,” he argues into your lips, earning a giggle from you that somehow melts all of his worries away.

“Chess is always an option,” you remind him, but he shakes his head.

“Just… Fucking hell,” he groans as if it’s some sort of laborious task he really can’t be bothered to see through, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s just embarrassed. It’s all rather cute. Or at least it is until he continues. “Just finger my ass.”

He bashfully half whimpers, half laughs, and then adds a pouty, “Please.”

A smile sinks into your lips, and the way he seems almost shy makes your tummy feel all funny. He’s disastrously cute like this.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” you promise, lips brushing against his ear.

He nods. Knows you will. Lets his hands stroke up and down your back, bringing them around to cup your boobs. Squeezes. Smiles. Can’t resist himself when he questions, “Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You nod, pulling back to sit upright just for his viewing pleasure. His hands are still holding your tits, gently caressing. He’ll never not love the sight of this. Of you. Of the way you respond to his touch.

“C’mere,” he grunts, pulling you back down, ‘cause he can’t let you go just yet. Your hands grip onto his bedframe as his lips eagerly latch onto one of your nipples. One of your hands drops to tangle in his smooth hair, a pretty little moan escaping your lips.

He takes it as a sign he’s doing something right. Switches up his sucking motion to flick his tongue against your hardened bud. Get you moaning all over again, the position of your legs spread over his waist, letting him know just how pleased you are to have him like this.

And while Jeongguk might have been asking you for favours, all he can think about is returning them.

Tapping on your ass, he’s a little breathless as he lets go of his latch on your nipple, and husks, “Up, baby. On my face. You before me.”

“Hm?” you languidly hum—not because you don’t know what he means, but because it goes against what he was asking for just minutes earlier.

Still, Jeongguk doesn’t care to explain his thought process (mainly because he doesn’t have one (he just likes having you in his mouth in any and all capacities)). Instead, he just continues tapping your ass until you get the message.

“You’re so impatient,” you lightly scold him while you do as he requests, but barely have time to position yourself before his arms are hooking over your legs, pulling your pussy to his mouth. “Oh fuck.”

He wastes no time suctioning his lips around your clit. He doesn’t care to be quiet about it. Eats you like it’s his last fuckin’ supper. Laps up against you.

It’s not just his tongue, though. It’s like he wants his whole fuckin’ face in your cunt. His nose rubs up against your clit, while his tongue greedily licks your entrance. There’s no such thing as perfect, but the way he’s proportioned is as close as it gets, you think. Your hips grind, a hand tangled in his hair, the way you both move entirely primal.

Hands squeezing at your ass, he encourages your movements. Wants you all over his face. Loves nothing more than being coated in you.

His tongue begins to focus now, though. He positions himself just right. Flicks against your clit at such a speed it’s hard to comprehend—and then he’s moaning. Vibrating against you. Delivering a sensation that could never be replicated.

“I’m close,” you rasp. Whine. Moan. “Don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

And while he wants you to, Jeongguk knows why. Knows you wanna fuck him. Knows you wanna cum around his cock instead of on his face. Multiple orgasms have never been an issue, but it is late. You do need a somewhat early night.

He nods, easing up his tongue, slowly sucking on your clit. The movements of his head as he sucks only serve to make you feel like you might cum regardless, so you shakily (and regretfully) pull away.

When you reposition yourself, he pulls you against his lips for the messiest, most obscene kiss possible. It’s all tongue, and little else. The taste of your cunt. The sweetness of his whines. The filth of how much he loves sinning with you.

There's nobody else he could be like this with. Only you. Only ever you.

Straddled over his hips, you grind gently, his thick cock perfectly snug between your lips. Wet and swollen, they feel like silk against him. Jeongguk knows, given the chance, that he’d be able to cum like this. Easy.

That’s not what he wants, though, so you retrace your steps. Sink back down. Don’t fuck around this time. Instead, you take him in your mouth without hesitation. Return the favour he’s just bestowed upon you.

Head bobbing up and down his fat length, your hand wraps around the base of his cock. Pulling back, you spit against him, using your hand to spread it, gaining momentum. Loose with your grip, you focus on the tip of his sensitive cock, jerking him until he’s whining. Whimpering.

And then, you let your tongue stroke against his balls.

“Oh, fuck,” he whines, his hips pulsing beneath you.

It’s all the approval you need for your hand to get a little tighter, and for your lips to take one of his balls in your mouth. It’s a sensation Jeongguk fuckin’ loves, if done right—and of course, you know how to do it perfectly for him.

You take his ecstasy as a chance to move things along. Know he’s feeling good. Know he wants more.

Pulling back, you sit on your heels. Neither of you speak, but Jeongguk does slowly nod when he sees you reaching for the bottle of lube next to his body. Trepidation hangs in the air. This territory is uncharted, and it’s been a little while since you last ventured so far south—but you’ve got a roadmap. Know the way. Even if you didn’t, you like to think intuition would guide you, regardless.

Warming it a little bit in your hands, you’re slow. Cautious. Careful, knowing that he’s probably feeling a little more vulnerable than usual.

Hands slick with the gel, you wrap a palm around his shaft. Ease him into the feeling. It’s not like it’s a new sensation, but the pair of you rarely ever use lube. You’re always wet enough. He nods. Lets his eyes close as your other hand gently massages against his balls.

A little further south, you venture. He’s not a stranger to your tongue against his taint, but your fingers are less frequent. He's not as well acquainted with the sensation, but he likes it. Legs spreading a little further, Jeongguk makes himself available for you.

Smiling at just how cute he looks, you’re a curious mix of enamoured and outrageously turned on. Just like nobody could ever make him feel the way you do, nobody could ever make you feel the way he does.

“You’re so hot,” you tell him, gently wanking his cock as two of your fingers stroke up and down his taint. You apply a little more pressure. Replace his bashful smile with a wanting gasp.

Slick with lube, you let your middle finger go lower. Slowly, you press against his rim. Watch him closely as his brows furrow. There’s that look of desperation once more, and the assurance that yes, he wants this. Wants you.

You count in your head. 1, 2, 3… make sure he doesn’t stop moving his hips. If anything, he’s edging himself down. Encouraging you to apply more pressure.

And so you do. Slowly, eyes trained on his pretty, pathetic face, you push your middle finger against his tight hole, until the muscle eases.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, the penetration of a single finger overwhelmingly pleasurable for him. His eyes flicker open, landing on yours as your finger begins to curl ever so gently. Just a little. Just enough.

Chest heaving, Jeongguk looks beautiful in a way that’s hard to put into words—and when you slowly pull out, he looks ruined in a way that’s also hard to comprehend.

His lips hang slack, chest heaving as his eyes burn into you like the heat of a thousand stars. Face dewy with sweat, hair sticks to his forehead, the storminess of his gaze quickly triggers a whirlpool within your stomach. There’s a neediness to him as he swallows back a breath, lips coming together so that he can lick them, before his pout forms that pretty little o-shape once more.

Breathless as he speaks, Jeongguk rasps, “Again.”

The corner of your lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, babe?”

“Yeah,” he pathetically nods, fucked out but somehow still painfully desperate for more. Of course he is, though. It’s you. No one gets him like this. No one ever will. His brows furrow together, his tongue flicking against the silver hoops in the corner of his mouth, as his eyes drop to his pathetically weeping cock. He’s so hard. So keen. So needy—and what he needs right now is you. “Please, B. More.”

You tease against his entrance, applying just enough pressure to make him gasp. It’s like a reward, to hear him like this. As if you’ve done something truly remarkable.

Your other hand wraps around the base of his cock, adding to the electricity surging through him. He reaches down. Wraps his hand around yours. Encourages you. Wants more. Needs more. And so you give him more.

Finger pushing into his tight entrance, you’re slow. Painfully so, though you aren’t causing any actual pain. Jeongguk just wants you to hit that spot.

“Yeah?” You check in.

Breathless, nodding his head even though his eyes are closed, he says, “Yeah.”

Your finger curls. Strokes. Searches. Finds.

And Jeongguk moans in a way you don’t think you’ve ever heard before. It’s a whimper, almost. A plea. Or rather, a confession, maybe.

Your hands work in tandem, your finger stroking right against the spot that makes him whine, while your other hand strokes him in tempo. He’s stimulated in a way he isn’t used to. In a way he never really thought was possible.

There’s a vulnerability that comes with penetration. Far easier to fuck someone than it is to get fucked.

When he looks down towards you, it's like looking through a telescope; galaxies in his big brown eyes. Wide and wanting, he'll give you all the stars in his eyes, no questions asked, no fee charged.

It’s when your head dips to press wet kisses against his taint that his whines really begin to get desperate. Has always loved your mouth. Loves it when it does things it shouldn’t.

A girl like you shouldn’t have your nose pressed to a ballsack or her tongue mere millimetres away from an asshole, but the way you focus on delivering him pleasure would suggest otherwise. You’re made for this. Made for him.

It’s when you whine, though, obsessed with his body's response to you, that he really begins to get twitchy. His hips pulse ever so gently, encouraging the movements of both hands.

“Yeah?” you breathlessly whisper, smirking at how a man so strong is just absolute putty in your hands. “You fucking yourself with my hands, huh?”

Jeongguk is beyond the point of pride. Has no need for dignity. Just wants to feel good.

“Yeah,” he admits between desperate breaths. “Gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard.”

Everything is moving in the same chaotic rhythm: his chest, his beating heart, his pulsing hips. Jeongguk’s cock is twitching, the sensation of you massaging his prostate taking him closer and closer to the point of release. He isn’t gonna last, and you don't want him to.

Your hand grips even tighter around the base of his cock, the stimulation impossible to fight against. There’s only so much he can take.

“B,” he whines. “Oh, fuck.”

“Cum for me,” you tell him, not even caring for your lost orgasm from earlier. He can make it up to you later. You keep the pace of your finger consistent, but wank him off faster. He whimpers and he writhes, but he doesn’t ease up. “C’mon, baby. Show me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

If there’s one thing that drives him wild, it’s when you call him sweet little names.

“Please, baby,” you beg, because you know just the right buttons to press. His hands grip his bed sheets, eyes struggling to stay open. He’s seconds away from death, or so it feels. A little death, at least. His legs begin to twitch. The onslaught of what is about to happen is unmistakable. “That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Show me how good it feels.”

“B,” he tries to speak, but can’t. All he can do it succumb to the pleasure. Whine. Mewl. Moan.

And then it’s happening; the evidence of how fucking good you are for him painting his abdomen. His cock is pathetic as it spurts ropes of thick, hot cum onto his belly. White and wet, it’s never-ending. He cums and he cums; gasps and gasps.

It’s not until he begins to twitch, chest heaving, cock spent, that you withdraw from him. Immediately, you gently begin to trail your tongue across his hard abs, cleaning up the evidence of how much he likes having you in his ass. You're keeping his secrets. Promising you'll never tell a soul.

“Shit,” he curses, all breathless and fucked out, one arm over his chest, while his other hand reaches down to stroke the side of your head. “Fuck.”

Giggling now, you clamber up to join him, and Jeongguk cares not for the fact your cum is still on your tongue. In fact, he deliberately stokes his against yours, swapping the evidence of his pleasure between you both. Moaning into your lips, he’s spent in a way he never has been before.

“God, I love you,” he whines into your mouth. Gets needy all over again. “You know that, huh? You know how much I love you?”

With a bashful nod, you find yourself giggling. “You know I know.”

“Good,” he nods, pulling away to face the ceiling, eyes closed, trying to get a little breath back. You snuggle into him, all rather sweetly considering what you’ve just done. “‘Cause I do. And I mean it. You’re literally, like, the love of my life.”

“Who knew all it would take was a little ass play to get your saying such soppy shit,” you tease him, pressing a kiss against his chest. “Should have done this months ago.”

He laughs now, too. “Just cause I didn’t say it back then doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

The pair of you descend into a comfortable warmth, giggling and joking, until you get up to wash yourself up a little. Jeongguk protests. Says he needs to return the favour—but ultimately agrees to wait until the morning.

“Need to sleep at some point, babe,” you tell him as you both meander to the bathroom. Jeongguk makes a mental note to get a place with an en-suite when he moves out. In a pair of boxers, he watches you fondly as you wash your hands in the bathroom sink, all love drunk and bleary-eyed.

You’re in one of his shirts, and it drapes over your body in a way that it would never drape over him. He likes it better on you. In fact, he likes most things in his life better with the addition of you. Thinks life would be impossible, if he were ever to lose you.

“I think I’d die, yanno,” he mindlessly says, watching you plait your hair to stop it from tangling in the night. “If we ever broke up or weren’t together, I’d think I’d just die.”

You laugh, because it’s absurd. Both the concept of dying of a broken heart, and the idea that you would ever break up.

“Don’t speak it into existence, then,” you tease. “It’s a full moon, Gguk. Can’t be manifesting things like that on a night like this.”

“I’m not,” he assures you, because if anything, he’s trying to do the opposite. Not once does he think to tell you that the full moon has nothing to do with it, or some other belittling remark about believing in the stars, like you know most guys would. Why would he though? A star is the closest thing he knows to religion, and he’s looking at it right now.

“Well, good,” you hum, turning to face him, hair now secure. “Let's just agree to not break up, and that way you won’t die.”

“Sounds good,” he sleepily smiles, tugging on your hand, guiding you back to his bedroom.

It’s a ridiculous conversation for a ridiculous concept.

Or at least, in the warmth of lust-drunk night, it is.

In the cold light of day, stark and sterile, everything has the potential to change.

After all, bad decisions are your forte, are they not?

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #bad decisions #dappleddaisies

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crushribbons · 28 days

Note

please for the love of all things good if you could write a smut abt bestfriend!sebastian where he sneaks into our dorm room in the middle of the night (for the 5th time that week) because he can’t sleep 🙏 thank you in advance

ohhhh so you speak my love language helllll yeahhhh

(went a slightly dif direction teehee xx 18+ ONLY!)

---

"Is this going to be an every night type of thing?"

"Mm, yeah, every night that your feet are this warm."

Sebastian's own feet (or rather, icicles) slid under hers and she hissed and tried to yank the duvet away from him. He whined, cuddling closer to her and setting her skin on fire in the process.

She stammered, "B-back off, you hog," and Sebastian wrapped his arms tighter. His frame tucked so neatly around her, she hated how natural it felt. He was so fucking cold--why was sweat beading across her chest?

He was humming under his breath. "Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts! Teach us something, please."

"Don't," she groaned. "It'll be in my head all week."

Silence settled between them. The room felt heavy and still, and she was keenly aware of how her heart would thump every time Sebastian shifted around. Her owl sighed a wispy trill. She strained her ears towards the door, hoping to determine whether those were footsteps shifting around downstairs. Sebastian sensed her train of thought.

"Your parents went to bed ages ago."

"They still might have heard the door."

"We are twenty-one years old," Sebastian laughed, husky, in her ear. Fuck. "And your mother seems to think we ought to be wed to one another or some similar type of nonsense."

Words, her brain urged her. Say words. Now!

"She just loves having company for the holidays. She'd want me to marry a grindylow if it told her that her apple crumble was scrumptious."

A huff of air from Sebastian's nose hit the back of her neck, and she didn't need to see her own reflection to know she was bright red. She wished on every star that she could make out through the gauzy curtains that he had worn a shirt to bed. He didn't seem nearly as affected as she was.

How much longer could they toe this line? Seeing each other almost every day after work, visiting each other's family homes for the holidays, falling asleep at each other's flats and, as a result, far too often, crawling into the same bed with the sometimes muttered excuse, "Warmer this way."

All he had to do was say the word, any word, and she'd make this whole thing a lot less...friendly.

"What are these garments you adorn yourself in, m'lady?" Sebastian grumbled as he felt the foreign material at her hips between his fingertips. She swallowed back the moan that rose in her throat. Silly, getting this hot and bothered over a little physical contact. Then his hands were sliding down her hips inquisitively and the moan slipped out without warning. She scrambled to recover.

"Silk," she replied, her voice raspy.

"Too fancy for me," Sebastian sighed, and he let his body crumple completely into hers, and it was heaven and bliss, and Sebastian had finally warmed up so she let herself melt into him. Everything was blurring pleasantly around the edges of her vision: the room, the outline of the sleeping tawny owl by the window, the boundary between her and her dear, best friend Sebastian, who at that very moment was snaking one hand away from her waist and pressing it down between his hips and the curve of her ass.

"What are you doing?" she asked, and when Sebastian tsk'ed in annoyance, she realized exactly what he was doing and humiliation flushed her cheeks.

He tried to pull away from her a few inches, and she whined, "Hey--you're just getting all warm!" but she felt him shake his head. She rolled over to face him and he closed his eyes when she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm, uh." He squeezed his eyes tight shut, then dared to open one and peek at her. "I'm sorry. I kinda got..." He gestured down to his free hand, which was currently doing its best to conceal...

Her cunt throbbed, wetness pooling. He was hard, and the hand pressing his erection down couldn't cover it entirely. She felt her lip slide between her teeth. Sebastian's chest, splattered with freckles and a light layer of chestnut hair, was rising and falling too fast. They locked eyes.

"Should we?" He didn't finish the question. He didn't have to.

Should we? she thought. She didn't care.

They fucked, slow and tender and hot and fast, until the orangey glow of dawn kissed the room. When she rolled her head to the side, hair mussed all over her pillow, and saw the tiny light filtering through the window, she laughed to herself, but it was pathetically choked off when Sebastian's nose pushed against her clit in perfect little circles. Her hips arched and she used the handful of wavy hair in her hand to pull him deeper into her. He chuckled into her pussy, and the feeling of his smile pressed against her weeping heat had her riding his face until she eeked out a broken, "Fuck, Seb, baby!"

He shushed her, although his face was still buried inside her, occupied with cleaning every last drop from between her legs.

"Have you got one more for me, darling?" he purred over her fevered panting.

"N-no! I d--!" Sebastian covered her protestations with a sloppy kiss, lips still covered in her, and her body suddenly found the wherewithal to endure one more mind-bending orgasm. She moaned and pressed her chest to his and he laughed again.

His cock slipped in easily this time. The first two, three? Merlin, four? times, his size had been almost too much for her. But a groaned, "Fuck, so tight for me, just like I always dreamed..." was what ultimately pushed her to the edge the first time.

What pushed her to the edge this time were the desperate, rough thrusts he fucked up into her with, and the gleam in his eye as he panted, "You'll be lucky if I don't keep you in this fucking bed all day, shit! I'm...f--fuck, I'm coming!" He grabbed her hips and pumped once, twice, three more times.

"In-inside me," was all she could get out before her body hummed with a high-frequency, white-hot pressure, and she collapsed onto Sebastian's chest. He held her tight while he filled her up, and afterwards did not pull himself out while they caught their breath.

"Hey," Sebastian said suddenly, breaking the hazy quiet that had settled around their intertwined bodies.

"Mm?"

She felt him smile to himself. "Nothing."

#or: silk: sebastian sallow edition JFLKSJF #TY SM FOR THE REQUESTTT this was so fun to write omg #sorry this was supposed to be blurbish and it drastically got away from me #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow x reader #laneywrites #anon #blurbs #sebblurbs

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yuyu1024 · 6 days

Text

Lettuce

Pairings: Mingyu × y/n

Genre/tags: non idol, dating

Warning: 🔞 fluff but still smut, pet names (babes, baby, love, honey, sweetheart etc.), cursing, unportected/protected sex (always be safe), kinks (size, breeding, tits, etc), mention of small age gap, mention of low self-esteem/confidence and insecurities

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.6k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: been away. I didnt know if I should post this or delete but then... I dont want effort to go to waste so.. 😅 i hope this is an okay one.

Have a nice day.

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

"Are you still waiting for your ride home?"

You look at the group of girls standing a few feet away from you. They are from the department across your office.

"Is your boyfriend late?" She adds a follow up question

You smile, "I am." You cautiously answer.

They are not your friends so you are not comfortable to share more than that. And also they are known to be the gossipers in the officr so, any details about your personal life would be the next topic for the next few weeks if you share anything with them.

"It's already late... are you sure he's still coming?" One girl asks.

Luckily, the bus arrives just in time for them to hurry in. No time for you to even chat with them anymore.

"Thank goodness..." you sigh feeling relieved.

*pings*

🐶: sorry, im late. 😭

🐶: i helped an old lady cross the street.

🐶: didn't know she would ask me to also help her get boxes of soju in her shop.

🐶: she admitted to pretending to struggle crossing the street so she can ask anyone to help her and his son 🙃 and then made me buy a whole bunch of lettuce.

🐶: like a whoke bunch😶

🐶: you like lettuce right babe?😚

You smile as you read your boyfriend's text. You don't know if its you imagining him pouting because he feels sorry he made you wait or its because he felt used and scammed.

💖: you're so silly.

💖: its still a good deed so its okay 😊

🐶: but i am 10mins late.

🐶: i cant let my princess wait for me.

💖: i can wait. As long as its you... ♥️

You see him read the message and then not reply.

"Hello stranger..."

You got startled when Mingyu embraces you from behind and kissed you on the cheek.

"Yah! You scared me." You slap his arm

"Sorry..." he giggles and kissed you again. This time on the lips.

"Stop..." you say, blushing. "We are outside."

"So...?" He grins and then puts his arm around you. "We are a couple. Who the fuck cares?"

You roll your eyes. "You know people judge..."

"No... they are just jealous because I am dating a wonderful woman..."

You shake your head. "No... they are not jealous because of me..." you push him away. Forcing a laugh. "Probably because you look good in that double denim look."

Here you go again with your self pity and self judging. You always do this. 'This' notion that you are way below over any other girl and that you are just lucky Mingyu is your boyfriend. You always make an effort to put yourself down without even noticing that Mingyu does not like it.

He fucking loves you. Inside and out. From head to toe. From front to back. He even loves it when you are not at your best behavior nor position. He just... loves you. Period.

But on your end, even with a million reassurance, you always doubt yourself for him.

***

Arriving at his apartment, the first thing you did was announce that you are going to take a shower. You didn't even looked at him when you said it. You're not mad at him or whatever. You are just guilty and feel sorry for being down out of the blue. You didn't even talked that much during the ride home.

"Hey..." he takes you by your arm and pulls you close for an embrace. He kissed the top of your head and then forehead. "Take your time... I'm going to cook dinner."

You smile with no teeth showing. "Okay..." your voice sounding almost a whisper.

"Anything in particular you want? We have meat, fish and vegetables... like a lot of lettuce..." referring to the whole plastic the old lady sell him. "You want something with soup or fried? Ramyun or pasta?"

"Hmm... I like pasta... and a salad on a side?"

"Okay... as you wish my princess..."

The whole apartment smells like a five star restaurant. The fragrance is to die for and makes your mouth water. When you got out of the bedroom, hair still damp, you got suprised by how extravagant Mingyu arranged the dining area. Fancy plates, lit candles, wine glasses and a bottle of his favorite red win. All of a sudden, iy felt like you entered an Italian restaurant wearing your baby pink pajamas and hello kitty slippers.

"Hi, babe." Mingyu is a ray of sunshine while putting on a few more finishing touches on the table. "Ready to eat?"

"Aww..." your heart is aching with pure joy. He is the sweetest man alive.

You stumble your way to him, caused by your own feet. He managed to catch you giggling with you. You look silly but he find it cute. And then as your eyes met he immediately captures your lips for a kiss. Small pecks that got deeper and more seductive. The kisses are loud that it echoes and bounce off the walls of the apartment. He can't also stop touching every curve of your body. From your hips, to your ass and to your tits. He even lifted your shirt so he can access your bra and yank one side down exposing you boob.

"M-mingyu...." you giggle as you try to pull away from the kiss. He does not want to let you go. He keeps on chasing your pink lips whenever a gap starts to build in betweem his. "We need to eat... the food will get cold..."

He didn't answer. He leans lower so he could give love on your exposed bud. He suck it first before he lets his tongue lick it and make your squirm.

"M-mingyu..." you inhale. "The food...?"

He finally lets you go, smiling. "Fine." He chased one more kiss. "But after we eat..." and another one. "I'd like to go straight to dessert." And another one. "You know I love my dessert." He says, bitting his lower lip while grinning like a mad dog.

"You're crazy!" You pinch his nose.

"Crazy over you..." he growls and suddenly picks you up off the floor. He puts your legs around his waist and you automatically hang your arms over his shoulder to hold on.

"Yah!"

"I can't wait. I think I want to begin our dinner with dessert first." His eyes is filled with desire and he is ready to wreck you.

Kicking the door open to your bedroom, Mingyu lays you down gently but in a hurry at the same time. He is on a mission. He is not going to make love to you. He will FUCK your brains out tonight. You know that look in his eyes.

"No condoms... I need to feel you... skin to skin..." he pulls his shirt off and throws it, hitting the wall, then begins to unbuckle his belt and pants. "And I'll like to fill you up until it leaks out of your pussy." He adds, grinning

"Oh God..." you try to get a hold of yourself. Not ready for what is coming

He pushes down his pants and underwear in one go. His length springs free and is up, steady and hard. It's tip glistening with pre cum.

"Turn around..."

You do as he says and go on fours on top of the bed. He pulls your pants down, revealing a bare and wet pussy ready to be torn.

"No panties huh..."

You blush. "Well... I know we'll have sex today... I just didn't know its going to be this soon..."

Mingyu hovers on your back, hand sliding up and down your curves. "Do you want me to stop and just go on with dinner?"

You lower your heard, embarassed, even though he's not seeing how turned on and red you are. "No... I would never say no to you..." after a few breaths in you look back, cheeks red and warm. "You know sex with you is my only addiction."

"Fuck yeah it is..." he says proudly and satisfied

He eases himself in, slowly but deliciously. He skipped prepping you. He can't wait anymore. His dick is aching and wanting to feel your walls.

"I'll be a little rough to you today, babe." He smacks your ass and a moan escapes your lips. "I didn't like what you did earlier..."

"Ughhh!" He slams strong and consistent. It's driving you insane how he could hit the very back of your cervix. Actually he could hit every thing inside you. Thats how long and thick he is. "W-hat... what did... I do?" You arch your back and pushed your upper body up so he can embrace you and touch your body as he thrust your brains out.

"You know..." he grunts as he adjusts and tries to go deeper, even though he is already at the deep end of your insides. "I don't like it... when you don't appreciate yourself..." he inhales and exhales as he feels you clench and make it tighter. "Fuck! Babe!" He kisses the curves of your neck and bites on your shoulder when he feels the tightness thats make it fucking sensational for him

You ubotton your top to give him access to your chest. You didn't unhook your bra though. You just pulled the ladies out and the bra helps give them a push up.

"You are beautiful... sexy... and a wonderful woman..." he pushes your hair out of his way so he can kiss your neck. "Love yourself... the way I love you."

He then pulls out, almost making you cry and beg. But them makes you turn around to face him.

"Can you?" He asks with the most loving eyes

You crash your lips to his. Pushing your tongue in him. You didn't stop until you hear a moany cry from your boyfriend. His brows then creases when you playfully bite his lower lip. "I want to..."

"But what?" He carries you off the bed and pins you to the wall, beside the window of your bedroom. Your one leg touching the ground while the other is hooked over his forearm. "Answer me, babe."

He slams back in you. Stronger and much deeper. Which confused you coz how? Its not like your cervix can expand. But thats what it felt when he slammed you. It didn't hurt. It felt insane actually. Insanely goodm

"You are kind... sweet... caring... hardworking... knows what you like and dislike... respectful..."

You are catching your breathe in your throat. Its like you are choking from excess pleasure. You try to speak but you can't let go of the high. So instead of speaking, you just shook your head.

"You don't agree?" He asks. Mingyu looks at you with his puppy eyes and showered you with kisses. Then he kept repeating all the good qualities you have as a person and even physically.

He really is telling you every bits about you. Everything that he loves and dislike but accepts coz it is you. It is part of you. He really do love you.

"What can I do... to reassure you?"

You put your hand over his mouth. Not to shut him down but to hush him for a second. Just for a moment until you get it all out for him.

"Fuck me!" You cry as you can't help but cry more of his name. You are so close to your orgasm. "Nggghhhh...!"

You shut your eyes ready to explode but then Mingyu pulls away from your hand, takes you back in bed to finish, when he suddenly says the two words you didn't expect him to say while he's fucking your brains out

"Marry me..." he says.

Your eyes opens, looks at him in pure shock and bliss. "W-wha..." you can't finish your words. He was hammering you. You can't answer. "Mingyu!" You moan his name so loud when your world spun around.

"I love you." He grunts as he see you melt and when he pushed into you a few more times, he finally begins release himself you. All the warmth and every drop of him in you. "Fuck!" He exhales, dropping his body on you but not his weight. "I love you..." he says again. "So much..." he kisses your shoulder and then your cheek. "So... what do you say?" He smirks

"Suddenly?" You look at him, confused.

"Hmmm..." he scrunches his nose, still wearing the smile on his lips. "Not really..."

He then gets up, pulling out of you, which felt like you got more naked than what you are now. More exposed.

"Wait lemma clean you first."

He runs into the bathroom and takes a towel to wipe you clean. Just clean enough to be presentable but not totally wipe his seeds off you. He wants that in there.

And then he runs out of the room.

"Where are you going? Babe?" You are confused. Why is your man running outside the bedroom ass naked

Giggling as you see him comeback in and carrying the plastic bag of lettuce.

"Huh? What's that for?" You sit up and wrap the thin white blanket to your body.

"I lied. Well... we still going to have salads and all..." he is mumbling. "This should be over dinner... but... I could not help myself earlier so..."

"Mingyu... what is going on...?"

Laughing but still trying to pull a serious face. "It was true that an old lady sold me this but... as I was helping her she took the paper bag the came wit this... and I panicked." He sits down beside you. "I didn't want to put it in my jacket or pocket coz... it will be obvious... and when we walk and your cold you always put your hand in my jacket's pockst so..."

"Mingyu!" You grab his face and kissed him. To make him focus. "Just say it..." you are giggling now too.

"Okay..." a soft smile spreads to his lips. "I know... you may think... I'm still young and naive."

"No you're not..."

"Yeah but... still... anyways..." he nervously laughs. "Like I said... you are an amazing woman. Anyman who you choose to love will be the luckiest. And thankfully its me..." he then goes down to his one knee and pulls out a black box from the plastic of lettuce. "I said I didn't like what you did earlier... you looking down at yourself... but that does mean I hate you or mad at you for it... I just say that because I care.. I want you to feel... assured and happy." He opens the box and shows the most brightest ring you ever saw in your life. "If I have to always reassure you for the rest of our lives... I don't fucking care. I am up for it. I love you and I can't live a day without you." Pulling out the ring and taking your hand. "Please marry me... I will serve you and love you forever..."

You watch him put the ring on your finger.

"So...?" He looks at you with doe eyes

Letting go of the blanket covering your body, you launch yourself to him, making you guys fall on the floor. "I love you Kim Mingyu..." you say first before kissing him. "Forever is not a bad idea..." you kiss him again. "Of course I will accept."

"Sorry if I proposed to you after sex... at diner would've been fantastic"

"Don't say sorry... I do love your way..." you get up from embracing him. "It brings back to how we started."

He sits back up. "Right."

Then you stare at your ring. "Who could've guessed that... I will be marrying the guy I met and fucked at a friend's birthday?"

295 notes · View notes

harryslittlefreakk · 9 months

Text

it’s just us

(late night talking part 5)

summary: the 4th and final night of wembley, y/n and harry reflect on their week together and think about the future 🥹

warnings: super fluff, smut, bf!rry

a/n: i know these 2 are MY imaginary characters but i quite literally giggled and kicked my feet writing this !! i love these 2 so much 🤭 this will be the final ‘proper’ part but i have lots of extras planned! thank you so much to everyone for enjoying this series with me 🥹

you can join my taglist here! and find my masterlist here 🫶🏼 happy reading my loves!

part 1 2 3 4

“Hi, sunshine,” Harry smiled down at you as you awoke. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose, a crinkled and yellowed book in his hands. “Sleep ok?” he asked, setting the book down on the nightstand as you scooted over to nuzzle into his chest. “Meh,” you shrugged, draping an arm over his belly. “Miss you while m’sleeping.”

He laughed at this, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “Mum and Gem are coming over soon, asked if you want to have lunch with us,” he told you. “Really? I won’t be intruding?” you asked him, nibbling at the skin around your fingernail. “No baby, never.”

“You already missed a whole day with them yesterday, H,” you told him as he tangled his fingers in yours, pulling you into his lap. “Missed it for you, and missed a whole day with you too,” he said, wrapping his arms tight around you. “Just want to enjoy all my girls together, f’you’ll let me.”

“I’ll allow it,” you smiled. “M’a bit nervous though,” you confessed, suddenly frozen with the fear of meeting his closest family. Harry pressed a soft kiss to your lips, pulling one of his arms from around your body to brush stray hairs out of your face. “Don’t need to be nervous darling, they’ll love you.”

You slid off his lap suddenly, rushing to into your wardrobe. “Harry,” you groaned. “I only have one nice outfit and it might be a bit much.” You’d packed with one intention - go to the show, go home, sleep, repeat. You’d bought one fancy dress to wear for dinner with Joanie tomorrow night, your show outfits, and pyjamas and loungewear for the day time. “Show me,” Harry smirked, sauntering over to where you were rooting through your clothes in a frenzy. You yanked the dress of its hanger, slipping Harry’s stolen t shirt off your body before stepping into the dress.

“You look beautiful,” Harry smiled, arms folded across his chest as you twirled for him. It was one of your favourite dresses, a white midi dress with a deep neckline and light blue beach-themed decals dotted all over. You loved the way it looked against your tanned skin in the summer, the way the elastic waist cinched you in. It was simple, but made you feel incredible. “It’s not too much?” you asked Harry, smoothing the front of the skirt with your hands. “No, it’s perfect,” he told you, tapping on his pouted lips to tell you he wanted a kiss.

You padded over to him, peppering kisses all over his face before planting one firmly on his lips and slipping back out of the dress. “Now this is even better,” Harry smirked, stepping forward to land a blow on your ass cheek as you bent to pick up the dress. His strong hands grabbed a hold of your waist before you managed to pick the piece of clothing up, flinging you over his shoulder and marching back towards the bed as you shrieked and kicked. “It’s gonna get creased,” you half-yelled, words almost incoherent through your laughter. “I’ll iron it,” Harry replied, dropping you down onto the bed before climbing over you. He kissed all over your body, holding your arms down as you tried to push him away. The beginnings of stubble tickled you from head to toe, snorting and squealing as you writhed under him.

He stopped suddenly, pausing to gaze over you like an animal planning its attack. Harry moved back towards your face, lingering before you wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him closer. Your noses nudged over each other’s, smiles mirrored on your faces. He kissed you deeply, pulling your thong to the side and sweeping a finger through your folds with his free hand. He always kissed you like every time could be your last, like he never knew how much of your lips life would offer him so he had to savour every moment. It was impossible not to fall in love with him - the way he gave you everything you needed, romantically and sexually, too much to resist.

His thumb rubbed on your clit as his mouth grazed over your cheek, lips dragging slightly before he nibbled at your earlobe. Harry was definitely more sexually experienced than you, evident not just from his skill, but the way that he anticipated what you needed even before you realised. The tiny nip of his teeth sent your back arching, the pain giving you just the edge you needed. “You’re so beautiful,” Harry cooed, his voice delicate against your ear as he rubbed faster at your button. He slid two fingers into you, thumb still rubbing persistent circles against your clit. He found your g-spot almost immediately, knowing your body like the back of his hand by now. “Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna c-” you moaned, hips pressing deeper into the bed as your body tensed. You were cut off by a loud cry tumbling past your lips, thighs clamping around his hand as you came. Harry finally pulled away as you came down from your high, kissing you deeply before padding back to the bathroom, satisfied with his attack.

—

Though he’d wanted to take you all somewhere nice, Harry had settled on ordering food in and enjoying the sun on his hotel room’s balcony, not wanting to risk being spotted with you again so soon, especially before anybody else knew. You were helping him to tidy up his room now, desperate to do something to combat the ball of nerves in your stomach. “Relax, baby,” he told you, pulling you in for a hug. “I can’t, Harry. You only get one chance at a first impression and I’m so nervous about messing up.”

“Did you mess up the first time you met me?”

“No, but I was awkward. And shy. An-“

“And nothin’. You were adorable, even though you w’nervous around me. Now look at us,” he said. “If it gets too much or you need any help just squeeze my leg or something, okay pet?” You nodded, feeling somewhat calmer. You knew Harry could be shy too, and he knew exactly how you were feeling right now. It wasn’t long before the door knocked and Harry pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before opening it, Anne pulling him into a hug as soon as she saw him. “Hi, my darling,” she cooed, eyes crinkling as she looked him up and down. He looked especially adorable today, wearing wide legged jeans with (as he’d told you many times that morning) his favourite brown duck cardigan, a tight fitted white t shirt underneath. You loved his snuggly daytime outfits, and adored what he wore to shows, but seeing him pick out his favourite pieces and the way he styled them was your favourite thing yet.

As soon as she saw you standing meekly behind Harry, Anne almost shoved her son out of the way to take a look at you. He greeted Gemma as she stepped towards you, immediately wrapping you into a warm hug. “You’re beautiful,” she gasped, gripping the tops of your arms as you smiled. “What on earth are you stuck with him for?” Anne laughed, winking at you. “He’s got his perks,” you said. “It’s so lovely to meet you, I hope you don’t mind me being here.”

“Nonsense,” Anne insisted, “we were so excited to meet the girl Harry’s been obsessing over.” He blushed at this, shy smile taking over his face. Gemma pulled you into a hug next, exchanging names and hellos as the four of you walked towards the balcony. Harry wrapped an arm around you as you lingered by the sliding door, calling out to ask if anyone wanted something to drink. “I’ll get them,” he said, fingers dancing against your skin. “You sit, it won’t take a second,” you told him, turning to walk towards the coffee machine.

“You are smitten,” Anne gasped as Harry sat down opposite her, eyes following your every move. He shook his head in his hands, bright smile peeking through his fingers. “I know,” he confessed.

It wasn’t long before conversation turned to the leaked photos, and Anne gave you both a motherly lecture. “It won’t be long until more photos come out. And it won’t just be your face plastered on the front of magazines,” she told you. “I’ve seen first-hand how this information gets about, they will know everything about you, more than you know about yourself sometimes. I don’t want to nag, but if the pair of you are serious then you need to start telling your family and friends before they wake up and see you all over social media.”

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing a hand on Harry’s denim-clad thigh. “I’m just so frightened to be painted as some sort of groupie, like this was my evil little plan all along,” you told her. It was something you hadn’t even spoken to Harry about yet. You knew your friends and family would just be happy for you, but the world wouldn’t see you as someone who just fell in love, you’d be blindly hated by millions of girls. Harry had confided in you a little about the stress that the media creates in a relationship with him, the hatred and vitriol of journalists and ‘fans’ towards any woman he was spotted with. You understood why he wanted to protect this relationship as much as you did, and truthfully you thought he could be even more nervous than you were about going public. “It’s a risk you’ve got to take,” Anne told you. “Besides, within 5 minutes of walking into this room I could see how besotted you are with each other, and you’d have all of us behind you both, sweetheart.” You knew she was right, and your first hurdle would be telling Joanie.

—

Harry had booked a car to take the four of you to Wembley, having promised his mum and Gemma a behind the scenes look at everything going on. It was one of their favourite parts of him touring, he’d told you, seeing the tiny touches of him in his dressing room and stepping out onto the stage, imagining what it was like for him. Even after seeing it so many times, it never got any less incredible. “This is amazing, Harry, I can’t believe you get to do this every day.”

“Joy of my life,” he grinned, watching the three best women in his life looking out across the empty stadium. He picked up the tiny blue polaroid camera that sat in the wings, ready to capture little pictures of his band and his team. “Smile,” he called out. The three of you shuffled into position, arms around each other as you beamed in his direction. Anne insisted on taking a few of you and Harry next, 3 different pictures so you could all hold onto a copy.

“You gonna stick around?” he asked you, pulling you tight against his front. You checked the time on your phone, sighing as your head lulled back onto his shoulder. “I should go, Harry. Want to get a good view for my favourite concert.” He laughed against the top of your head, promising to walk you out once you’d all exchanged goodbyes.

“I’m gonna talk to Joanie tonight,” you told him. Your heart hammered in your chest at the very idea, but you knew how hurt she’d be if she found out via the press. It just seemed so soon, despite the fact that you’d usually tell her everything about who you were seeing, from the second you’d first laid eyes on them. It was all so different with Harry, and you knew it wouldn’t change your friendship with Joanie but it would definitely take over things for a while. “You sure?” Harry asked, fingers dancing across your forearm. You nodded. “Just want to get it out of the way. Feel like you’re my dirty little secret,” laughing through the nerves. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “you scared?”

“So fucking scared.”

With this, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you in a complete different direction than where you’d been heading. He dragged you into his dressing room, locking the door behind you before pressing you up against the door, legs wedged between yours. He was looking at you with the same animalistic gaze you’ve grown to understand, his breath hot against your mouth.

His lips ghosted over yours, tongue slipping past your teeth and licking circles around yours. You could feel him growing against your inner thigh, the tiniest taste of your lips enough to make him want more of you. Harry slid his hands behind you, palming at your soft ass before scooping you up and placing you down on the vanity, eyes dark with hunger as he gazed over you. “So perfect,” he whispered, hand cupping the nape of your neck as he dived in for another taste of your soft lips. He was insatiable, starved when it came to your pleasure - always like it was the first and last time he’d touch you, needing as much of you as he could get.

Harry bundled your dress up around your hips, groaning when he saw the wet spot on your panties, crisp from where your cream had soaked into them earlier in the day. He’d insisted you keep them on, the heavy material a reminder of how good he could make you feel. “Y’already wet for me, baby?” he rasped, slipping your tiny panties from your legs and stuffing them into his pocket. “Got you all worked up, huh?” Harry smirked as you shivered, the slightest brush of his fingers against your entrance shooting electricity through you. He licked the pad of his thumb before pressing it to your clit, leaning down to nip at your jawline when you whimpered beneath him. “Too sensitive, just fuck me please,” you whined, hips rocking back and forth to try to relieve some of the pressure that bubbled up inside of you with his one touch.

“Daddy’s needy little princess,” Harry cooed, lips soft against your cheek as he unbuttoned his jeans and let his hard cock spring free. He spat in his hand and rubbed it over his tip, guiding himself towards the centre of your parted legs. He entered you slow, one hand slipping under the bundle of fabric around your waist to grip onto your hip as he stilled inside of you, a groan slipping out as he felt your walls relax around his shaft. “More, H,” you pleaded, hooking your ankles around his back. He pulled out of you, looking down to see his head enveloped by your folds, cock twitching at the sight of your pretty pink lips wet around him. He fucked into you fast, thrusts brutal as he slammed his hips into you, catching you off guard. Every single time his tip hit your sweet spot you were crying out, your earlier orgasm only leaving you hungrier for him. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, desperate for something to hold on to to keep you grounded. It was as if you were on the outside looking in, watching your head lull back as he fucked into you, soul hovering somewhere separate to your body. He shifted slightly, angling you slightly upwards to hit a new, deeper angle inside of you. “So fucking big, so deep,” you whined, words tumbling out as you lost yourself in his cock. Your thighs tensed around his hips, pulling him tighter into your core as if there were anymore of him to take. Your orgasm washed over you quickly, the heat in your core bursting apart and rolling into every inch of your body. You cried out his name as you reached your climax, eyes rolling back in your head and stars all around you.

He’d never get enough of seeing you fucked out, cheeks pink and rosebud lips parted as you panted. It could send him over the brink in an instant, the combination of your walls spasming around his length as you came down from your high and the sight of what he’d done to you forcing his hot come out of him, even taking him by surprise as he painted your inner walls white. A hot and dirty little quickie was exactly what you both needed to clear your minds, keep your focus only on each other.

“Helped your nerves?” Harry grinned, wiping away a stray tear from your eye. You laughed, still dazed from your high. He slipped two fingers inside of you as he pulled out, stuffing his come back into your entrance. “You okay, sweet girl?” he asked you, helping your shaky legs to land back on the carpeted floor. “Mmm,” you hummed appreciatively, wrapping your arms around his chest as you fell into him, unsteady on your feet. “Took my cock so good, huh? Left you all broken?” Harry mewled, words muffled against your hair. He slipped an arm around your waist as you stepped away from him, holding you up as he unlocked the door. “Come on, I’ll get my driver to take you home,” he smiled, content in his post orgasm bliss.

—

“I need to tell you something,” you said, words bursting out when you finally couldn’t bite them back any longer. “What?” Joanie asked as she dropped her phone into her lap. You handed her the same gift bag Harry had given you, the necklace and note placed inside with two of the polaroids you’d taken earlier. “There isn’t a pregnancy test in here, is there?” she gasped, blue eyes wide. “No! It’s about what I’ve been up to this week,” you smiled, eyes glinting, suddenly brimming with excitement to finally tell her everything.

Joanie pulled out the pictures first, squinting at them both she passed them between her hands. She looked up at you, back down at the pictures, back up to you. Mouth agape, brows furrowed as she reached back into the gift bag. She pulled out the note next, unfolding it gently before her eyes grazed over the writing. “What the hell,” she whispered, searching in your eyes for any hint of mischief, certain this was some kind of elaborate prank. You picked up the necklace box, turning it in Joanie’s direction before you opened it and showed her the pendant inside.

“What is this?” she murmured, frozen still except for her eyes wandering over each item. “This is who I’ve been seeing,” you squeaked. You peeked out through scrunched up eyes, unable to gage her reaction at all. She gasped suddenly, drawing a hand to her mouth. “This is where he was pictured, in this hotel.”

You waited for it to hit her, the pieces already slotting together in her head but not making sense yet. “Call him,” she demanded suddenly. “If this is real then you have his number.” You giggled, pulling up your text chain in your phone.

y/n: do u have a second to call? X

Joanie grabbed the phone from you as you turned it around to show her, scrolling quickly through your messages. She paused on the first message he’d sent you, his pre-show selfie. Just as she started to zoom in on the picture, your phone started buzzing with a call. She thrust it back into your hands quickly, whisper-shouting for you to answer. “Hi love, you okay?” Harry asked, his slight northern rasp a clear giveaway now. Joanie fell back into the bed, hands clutched over her heart as she kicked at the bed, all the pieces finally coming together in her mind. “I’m okay Harry,” you laughed, watching your best friend thrash around. “Just got instructed to call you to prove you’re real.”

“Hi Joanie,” Harry called out, laughing as she squealed in the background. “I’ll let you get back to your dinner, meet me later?”

“Of course sweet girl, let y’know when I’m done,” Harry said before hanging up the call.

“Oh my fucking god, y/n! What the actual fuck?” Joanie shrieked, bolting back upright. “I know!” you laughed, grabbing a hold of her hands as you squealed with her. You told her everything, from the way you met him by chance, to your first kiss, the ‘date’ he set up for you, and everything in between.

“It sounds mental saying it out loud, I’ve felt nuts all week,” you told her, running your hands over your face. “It is nuts,” she said, still blinking quickly, trying to clear some of the shock clouding her mind. “He’s incredible, honestly. It’s been the most insane week of my life, and it’s been so difficult to keep it from you. But it’s such a big thing, it’s like, life changing already even without people knowing,” you sighed.

“Do you think he could be the one? Joanie asked. “He could be,” you grinned. “If things keep going as they are, I don’t see why we couldn’t make it.”

“I need to fucking scream. Harry fucking Styles! The Harry Styles could be your one. No wonder he was looking at you like that the entire show, here I thought he just fancies you. Turns out you luuurve each other,” Joanie babbled, throwing herself back against the mattress again, shaking her head in her hands.

Harry really had been focused on you for the whole concert, your position only a few rows back in Jonny’s place meaning he could see you clearly throughout the entire thing. Knowing that you were going to explain it all to Joanie anyway gave him permission to be as flirty as he wanted, acting as if you were the only person watching. You were certain your pre-show activities had riled him up to end too, and thank god you’d jumped his bones before watching him up there. Shirtless under his overalls, thick biceps and tanned chest on display, he’d looked delicious. He got you hot under the collar anyway, but to see the way he was acting while looking like that, you could’ve easily blown off telling Joanie in favour of getting fucked into a coma by your favourite man. “Come on, let’s get you home,” you laughed, suddenly burning up as you thought about your man. “And not a word to Tom,” you warned, jabbing Joanie in the ribs as you stood up.

You messaged Harry to let him know you wouldn’t be long, you were only walking Joanie to the nearest tube station so just long enough for Harry to finish his meal with Anne and Gemma before coming to meet you.

Once you’d hugged Joanie goodbye and promised to give her the details of your evening with Harry, you lingered by the entrance of the station, bouncing on your heels as you waited for him. It was so silly but so exciting, meeting him in a public place and not worrying about prying eyes or how you’d explain your appearance on the front of tabloids to your best friend. You could hear laughter from across the street, and your heart bubbled in your chest when you looked over. There he was, laughing and joking with fans he’d bumped into. You strolled towards him, somewhat subconsciously, drawn to his presence. Harry glanced over to see who was approaching and his face lit up, a huge toothy grin taking over his features. “Thank you girls, I’ve got to run,” he smiled at the young fans, eyes sparkling as he watched you where you stopped, leant against the wall just a few feet away from him. “Hi darling,” he grinned, whipping out an enormous bouquet of roses from behind his back. You gasped, eyes flitting between the flowers and his smile as he held them out for you, planting a gentle kiss to your lips as your hands met around the paper-clad stems. They were the biggest and probably most beautiful roses you’d ever seen. Twice the size of the ones you’d see in supermarket aisles, the perfect pale pink and ivory. “They’re incredible, H. What did I do to deserve these? Or what did you do?” you laughed, taking a big sniff of the floral scent. “Jus’ saw them and thought of you,” he smiled, taking your free hand in his. “This is nice,” you told him, head resting against his arm as you walked. He hummed appreciatively, squeezing your hand in his.

“Look, H!” you pointed, spotting a familiar sight that you hadn’t noticed before. The starbucks where you’d first met, only 5 days yet somehow a lifetime ago. “Can you imagine if we hadn’t both gone there?”

“Can you imagine if I didn’t work up the courage to talk t’you?” Harry laughed, tugging you across the road to get a coffee.

—

“How many kids are we going to have?”

“Hm?” you looked over at Harry, swilling the last dregs of your latte around the walls of the cup. You were back on his balcony now, looking out over the city that had brought you your love. It was so comfortable now, so right between the two of you that even sitting there in silence felt like something you’d done so many times, for so many years. It was scary, terrifying and yet so exciting. You were almost waiting for the other shoe to drop, scared to look around the corner in case a secret girlfriend or personality change was waiting to trip you up.

Harry repeated himself, lips curving into a tiny smirk. “Start with one and see how that one turns out I think,” you told him. He laughed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked over you. He watched you like he wanted to drink in everything about you, searching for any new detail to memorise.

“What are you thinking about, princess?” he asked you, noticing how lost in thought you were.

“I’m just frightened, H. It’s only been 5 days,” you told him, looking over at him with big brown eyes. “I know, sweet girl. S’a lot so soon, huh?” he replied, holding one of your hands to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. You nodded, “yeah. And I- not that I don’t think we could work but it’s scary. Having the world know my name and forever being associated with you if the distance is too much.”

“Then come with me,” he pleaded, “be my little groupie.” He was smirking now, though his eyes remained serious. “I can’t, Harry,” you groaned. “It’s too late notice to take any longer off work and not all of us are rich.”

“Then quit your job. Let me help you just until the tour finishes and then you can find something else.”

“You are so out of touch,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t just quit my job, not work my notice and then expect something else to come up in a month.”

“Says who?”

“Says the world, you doughnut.”

“Marry me.”

“Harry! You are so insane,” you shrieked.

“I’m serious. Marry me, be with me forever, have my babies.” He really was dead serious, toying with his rings as he looked at you.

“I am not marrying you after 5 days.”

“Then we’ll just date.“

“Date?”

He stood up as you questioned him, suddenly rushing out of the hotel room. You followed him slowly, laughing as he knocked on the door. “Come in,” you called out. “Open it, woman,” Harry shouted, fist banging on the wood again. He was standing there grinning as you opened it to let him back in, totally confused by what he was up to.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he started, holding out a hand for you to shake. “I know we’ve just met but I’m falling in love with you, and I’d love to take you out tomorrow night.”

EEEEE!!!!! my little loves. i thought this was a nice place to end it but rest assured i have about 7 ideas for extras already half drafted so this won’t be the last you see of these 2!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

taglist: @ameerakane20 @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @angstygyal @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @poojasdesk @averytermaat @tenaciousperfectionunknown

#harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harry edward styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry smut #harry styles x fan #harry fic

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kiss-me-cill-me · 9 months

Text

Devour

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Summary: When you accept a ride home from your colleague, Dr. Crane, the last thing you expect is for him to drug you. Crane is surprised as well, however, as his fear toxin has a very... unusual effect on you.

Warnings: NON-CON smut, non-consensual use of fear toxin, sex pollen-esque situations, kidnapping, S&M themes, dacryphilia, fear play, breath play

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

You were having an extremely bad day.

There was really no use mincing words about it. From the moment you’d woken up this morning, it had felt like the universe was conspiring against you. A cold shower, thanks to the hot water breaking yet again; facing what should be a criminal amount of traffic on your commute to work; and overall just a miserable shift full of difficult patients and unfriendly coworkers. It seemed like everyone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

And now, as this long day was finally coming to an end, there was one more problem to face.

“Crap, crap, crap, where did I park?” you muttered.

The parking lot was dark. It was raining - of course it was raining. And the result was that you had been unable to find your car for the last ten minutes, and were now soaked through to the bone.

You raised an arm to shield your eyes from the relentless downpour of water, and scanned over the cars in front of you, again. You could have sworn you’d parked in your usual spot, but you had been in such a rush from being late because of the traffic that you must have carelessly parked somewhere else and forgotten.

Just as you were about to give up and go back inside to call a cab, you spotted the silhouette of a familiar make and model. Well, somewhat familiar - it looked like the car was listing to one side, at an odd angle to the pavement. As you approached, you instantly saw why.

Two of your tires had been slashed. The front and rear left wheels were completely deflated, causing the car to lean down and scrape its metal rims on the asphalt. There was no way you could drive this home.

“You have got to be kidding me!” you yelled, frustration crumbling into the beginnings of a sob.

It had been hard to hold it together at work, but you were always careful to project a certain sense of stability in front of the patients, and you had done so today as well. But now, in the privacy of a parking lot crowded with cars but devoid of people, you allowed your walls to come down and a tear to escape the corner of your eye.

“Everything okay over here?” asked a voice behind you.

You spun around, suddenly self conscious, to find one of your colleagues, Dr. Jonathan Crane, standing a few feet away from you. It was hard to see the expression his eyes might have held, behind the glare of his glasses and the sheeting rain between you - but you imagined it must be pity. You probably looked like a soaked rat, standing here clutching your briefcase, clothes plastered against you from the rain. Meanwhile, Crane was perfectly dry under an umbrella, his suit crisp and well-fitting as usual.

“I… no,” you admitted. “Some asshole slashed my tires.”

Crane had taken a few steps toward you, and now was holding out the umbrella to you. It wouldn't do much good at this point; you were already completely drenched and shivering. But you appreciated the gesture. You took the handle he offered, freezing cold fingers brushing against his for just a moment.

“Let me take a look,” Crane offered.

You wanted to tell him to not bother. That the damage was done, and there was no reason for him to get soaked, too, when at this point all that could remedy the situation was to call a cab. But before you had the chance to say anything, Crane was already stepping out from under the umbrella and leaning down to examine your front tire.

He kicked it with the toe of his fancy leather shoe a few times. Seemed to consider something with his hand to his chin for a moment. And then turned back to you and held his hand out for the umbrella. You gave it to him.

“Doesn't look like you'll be able to patch that up,” he confirmed.

You had already known that, but resisted the urge to tell him so. He was just trying to be helpful; you weren’t going to snap at him.

“Do you have any other way to get home?”

You shook your head.

“The bus line that goes by my apartment has been out of service for weeks. Something about an investigation,” you told him. “They found chemicals or a potential bomb or something. I don't even know. Just my luck, I guess.”

Crane’s voice had a soft lilt of amusement as he responded, or maybe it was just in your imagination.

“Sounds like Gotham for you,” he said.

For the first time, you looked up at his face. Crane wasn't particularly tall, but he had an imposing presence all the same. It was his intelligence - obvious from the moment you stepped in the same room as him - and his eyes - a hollow, piercing blue even behind his glasses - that gave him an air of authority. You were familiar with him as a colleague, but hadn't spent much time actually working with him. He was the Head of Psychiatry at Arkham, and you were one of the general physicians on staff. There wasn't a great amount of overlap in what you did. Crane made policies and studied the patients’ minds. You just tried, desperately at times, to keep them from succumbing to outbreaks of lice and flu.

As he looked back down at you now, you felt oddly comforted by Crane’s presence. He was intimidating, yes, but he also seemed to hold real interest in your predicament. Like he was concerned about what would happen to you, a coworker he barely knew and probably hadn't said more than a dozen words to before this. You recalled something - just an aimless piece of gossip - that you had heard from one of your nurses a few weeks ago.

“Crane is such an unbelievable creep,” she’d said.

He didn't seem creepy to you. A little awkward, maybe, coming to play the white knight and offer his opinions on a car tire that you could clearly tell needed to be replaced. But friendly; kind. It felt like he was your first piece of good luck all day.

“Tell you what,” Crane said, lowering his head to yours just a bit so as to be heard over the rain. “My apartment isn't too far from here. Why don't I drive you there, and you can dry off and change into some clean clothes while I call a tow?”

Gratitude flowed through you. Okay, you decided, he could play the white knight if he wanted to. If pretending that chivalry wasn't dead meant you could get out of this awful rain, you would take it. Still, part of you felt bad for making him go out of his way.

“Are you sure?” you asked. “I wouldn't want to trouble you.”

“It's really no trouble at all,” Crane assured you.

He motioned for you to walk with him, and set off toward a dark corner of the parking lot. You trailed alongside him, eager to stay under the shelter of his umbrella.

Crane’s apartment felt strangely secluded. It was quiet; with none of the usual bustle of other people coming and going, having arguments over dinner, smoking on the patios. No neighbors, Crane explained to you. He had the fourth floor all to himself, for the time being, due to renovations in the other two apartments. You weren't sure what they could possibly be renovating. The whole apartment building was spotless and modern; expensive-looking in a way that told you Crane had a lot of money. More money than anyone who worked at Arkham Asylum should have, considering the paltry wages they paid. But, you weren't about to judge; maybe he just came from a wealthy family.

“Would you like some tea?” Crane asked, shrugging out of his damp suit jacket and running a hand through his hair.

“Sure. Thank you.”

Crane filled a kettle with water, took two mugs out of a cupboard, and dropped two tea bags into them.

“Hope chamomile is okay,” he said, as he set the kettle to boil. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “Let me get you some dry clothes. Wait right there.”

And with that, he disappeared into one of the rooms.

You took a quick survey of the space around you. It was bright in the kitchen, but in a strangely clinical way that reminded you more of an operating room than a place drenched in sunlight. Maybe that's what they were renovating in the other apartments. For all the expensive amenities this place seemed to offer, harsh white fluorescents seemed an odd choice.

Crane reappeared with a few items in his hands.

“Nothing fancy,” he explained, “but these should fit you. And here’s a towel if you need it.”

He offered what he was holding, and you took it. The logo on the t-shirt was for the Gotham PD. Strange. As far as you knew, Crane wasn’t connected with the police. It seemed a bit odd for him to have this shirt, but you didn’t question it too much. You didn’t really know him well at all, you reminded yourself. Who could say what he got up to in his free time?

“Guest room is down the hall and on the left,” he told you.

You thanked him and shuffled away to get cleaned up. You were dripping onto the linoleum of his kitchen floor, and you felt bad, again, for all the trouble you were causing. Crane surely had his own errands and hobbies to get to after a long day at work, and they almost certainly didn’t include looking after his errant coworkers. You smiled to yourself. Maybe after all this was over, you could do something nice to thank him.

Crane’s shirt was only a little bit too big on you. He’d given you a pair of lounge pants as well. It was hard to imagine Crane wearing anything like this, even in his free time. He was always so well put-together in his suits and ties. Even though you mostly only passed him in the hallways, it was hard not to notice someone who so clearly took pride in appearances.

As you reentered the kitchen, Crane snapped his phone shut. He looked up from where he was sitting at the table, one mug of steaming tea in front of him and the other at the chair perpendicular to his. He smiled, and you took your seat.

“Tow truck is on its way,” Crane told you. “It’s all taken care of. Drink your tea and then I can drive you home.”

“Thank you… again,” you said. “I really feel bad that you’re doing all this. What do I owe you for the tow?”

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing.”

Crane waved a hand. He was still in his dress shirt, but had rolled up the sleeves. You noticed for the first time how muscular his arms were. Not absurdly so, but more like the tense, lean muscle of a jungle cat. He still wore his tie, but reached up to loosen it a bit.

“Drink up,” Crane continued. “It was cold out there. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

You raised the mug to your lips. Crane watched you, maybe just a little too intently, and you suddenly understood the nurse’s comment about him. He did have a disconcerting quality, just below his carefully curated surface. But still, he had been nothing but nice, and so what if he was a little socially awkward? The tea passed smoothly over your lips; the perfect temperature, but still hot enough to warm your throat.

“Delicious,” you commented. It felt like the warm tea was snaking its way through your body, mending aching joints that you hadn’t even realized were tense until now. “What did you put in this?”

Crane’s expression didn’t waver as he answered you.

“Just tea… some sugar…”

It almost seemed like he was about to say more, but didn’t.

“Just sugar?” you asked.

You took another sip. The flavor was unlike any tea you’d had before; there was a complexity to it that you couldn’t put your finger on. A sweetness that somehow tasted different than usual.

Crane smiled, and said nothing. He took a sip of his own tea, carefully replacing the mug when he was finished.

A rumble of thunder shook through the apartment, and you jumped in your seat.

“Afraid of storms?” Crane asked. Casually, but with a glimmer of interest.

“Not really,” you replied, embarrassed. “Just a little jumpy, I guess.”

You took another long gulp of your tea. The mug was already half empty, and you could still feel the warm liquid soothing you. You were getting more relaxed by the minute. Strangely so. And something else was happening, too. A flutter in the very bottom of your stomach; like you were back in middle school at your first co-ed dance, building up the trembling courage to talk to a boy you liked. You looked up from your mug at Crane, to see that he was staring intensely at you.

“Um, I’m sorry,” you began, not quite sure where you were going with the sentence. “I’m just…” “Feeling okay?” Crane asked.

There was concern in his voice, but his tone didn’t match the expression on his face. He was rapt; observing you like a rat in a maze. Like he was trying to read what was going on behind your eyes, which now felt like they were bugging out of your head.

“I…”

A new sensation rippled through your body, ending in a sharp pang right between your legs. You gasped, and your eyes went even wider. With shaking fingers, you reached out toward the mug in front of you.

“What the hell did you put in this?” you whispered.

Crane ignored your question. Your heart was pounding as he dragged his chair closer to you, leaning in so that his blue eyes were level with yours.

“What are you seeing?” Crane asked. “Rats, spiders? Does the room look normal to you?”

“What??”

He wasn’t making sense. You didn’t understand his words - and yet, you did, because as you looked around the room, it did seem to swirl in front of you. The bright fluorescent lighting took on an impossibly harsh tone, making shadows appear in all of the far-off corners. They started creeping closer to you, darkening the sides of your vision.

“Snakes are a pretty popular one,” Crane continued, his voice now clinical. “Do you see snakes?”

What was he talking about? Rats, spiders, snakes? Either this apartment needed way more renovations than you’d thought, or Crane had lost his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re- ah!”

You were cut off mid sentence as another wave of something moved through you. Horrified, you finally recognized what it was. Desire.

Crane seemed to realize it at the same moment, watching you miserably cross and squeeze your legs.

“Fascinating…”

His eyes trailed over you almost lazily as he took in your whole, writhing body. You weren’t sure how you had managed to stay in your chair this long. As whatever had been in the tea took hold of you, your heart raced faster and faster, and you felt an ever-building need to be touched. By yourself, by anyone. Even… The idea of it repulsed you, but that didn’t stop the want.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Crane observed. “Tell me: do you have a fear of intimacy, or does being afraid just turn you on?”

You wanted to spit insults at him and tell him to fuck off. But you were immobilized by a pressure that seemed to squeeze all the air out of your lungs. You had never felt such pure terror before. Your body was too hot; a weightless, flaming heat pulsed through your every limb. And woven through all of it was that gnawing, primal hunger that started deep inside of you and seemed to try and claw its way out.

Crane sat calmly across from you. He took off his glasses and folded them neatly in front of him on the table. His eyes shined with something that looked like lunacy; ten times brighter now, without the thin pane of glass obscuring them.

“Based on the way that you don’t seem to be bothered by anything else… I’m going to assume it’s the first one,” he said.

It infuriated you that he was right. You’d had bad experiences with intimacy, and they had shaped you into a woman who was fearful of her own sexuality. You had no idea what Crane had spiked your drink with. But whatever it was, it was bringing those fears to the forefront of your mind; forcing you to face them instead of pushing them down deep - where they belonged, you thought bitterly. You couldn't ignore the arousal that creeped through you, clouding your mind even as it terrified you. And the worst part of all of this was that Crane was here to watch. There was, ironically, no greater intimacy than fear. Your fear was the most personal, private part of you.

You took a deep breath, and pushed up from your chair, hands still shaking as you braced them against the table. You were going to get out of here, you promised, even if you had to do it through clenched teeth.

“Impressive,” Crane remarked. “You’re actually trying to fight through it.”

He stood up, easily, and hovered next to your hunched form. You looked up at him, trying to force as much hatred into your eyes as you could, despite the intense pain and arousal that wracked your body. With great difficulty, you stood up straight to face him. It felt like you were about to pass out, but you stood your ground.

“I really don’t know where you think you’re going, though,” Crane said calmly. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.”

Just as you were wondering what he could possibly mean by that, Crane's lips came crashing into yours. You let out a muffled cry - half of shock, but half, to your ever-growing horror, of need. You mewled against his mouth, disgusted with yourself, but unable to stop. Your eyes were blown wide. Crane’s were closed, his brows furrowed almost in concentration, as he wrapped his arms around you.

When Crane finally broke the kiss, you could feel your lips starting to bruise. He smiled wickedly down at you.

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you,” he growled. “Does that bother you?” The drug - whatever it was - still had a powerful hold on you. But you could feel yourself slowly regaining control of some of your faculties. Probably, you could have answered him. Still, you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that, yes , what he'd said had terrified you.

“Well, it should,” Crane replied to your silence. His tone was still clinical, almost detached, as he continued. “You’re going to do whatever I want you to, or else this is going to get a lot worse for you. Do you understand?”

You didn’t want to answer him, but something within you was starting to slip. You were losing the fight to stave off your own submission. You nodded.

“Good.” Crane kept smiling at you, his eyes now blazing. “You know, I think you like it when I’m mean to you.”

You hated the way that your thighs clenched around his words. The way you could feel the blood rush to your clit. You were practically throbbing.

“That’s good for me to know,” Crane continued. “But maybe not so good for you.”

You yelped as he lifted you up, forcing you to straddle his waist. Crane was a lot stronger than he looked. Outside, the storm continued to rage; you could hear the rain roaring against the windows.

“I have to say, I really didn’t expect things to go like this,” Crane said as he carried you through the apartment. You were heading down the hallway, but not into the guest room you had been in earlier. “I’m usually not the type to put out on a first date,” he joked. Suddenly, you were thrown down, landing roughly on what felt like a bed. “And I doubt you are either. You know… considering…”

As you lay on the bed looking up at him, Crane pulled at his tie and took it off, throwing it down next to you. Next came his belt. He untucked his shirt and started to work on the buttons, his hands moving nimbly down the front of his body. He wore no undershirt, and you hated yourself for staring at the way his bare chest peeked out from behind the fabric. Leaving his white shirt on but unbuttoned, he climbed onto the bed to hover over you.

“But I think we can make an exception just this once - don’t you?” His lips hovered inches away from your ear, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

The rage that you felt momentarily pushed aside the fear that was still swirling inside of you. Scrambling to grab at the moment, you pushed his body with all of your might, trying to throw him off you.

You might as well have been pushing against a brick wall. Crane stayed exactly where he was, chuckling as he shrugged your hand off.

“Oh, honey,” he said, his voice full of pity. “I like it when you fight.”

He kissed you again, even more roughly than before. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, and you swore you could taste blood. You thrashed below him, trying to kick out but unable to because of how tightly his body was pressed to yours. You scratched at his back, but that only made him moan greedily. Out of other options, you tried to bring your hands to his throat.

“Oh.” Crane broke away from you, just slightly, enough to snatch your hands away and slam them against the bed. “So that’s what you’re into. You can just use your words, you know; I want this to be good for you, too.”

With one hand keeping both of yours pinned, Crane brought his other hand down to your neck. Your eyes widened with fear, and he seemed to drink in your desperation. Frozen, you willed yourself to fight back, but couldn’t. Crane’s fingers ghosted over the soft skin of your neck for a moment as he looked at you.

With a wicked smile, his hand clamped down on your throat. Your vision was already clouded from whatever drug he had slipped to you, and now the sides of it seemed to close in, trapping you in your own body as his hand tightened. It wasn’t enough to actually hurt you, but the panic it caused made your heart rate spike more than you would have thought possible. You felt your pulse thump against his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut and started to breathe quickly, in short, desperate gasps. Crane’s hand that was holding your wrists in place came down to tug at the hem of your pants.

“Shhh,” he soothed. “Breathe through it and focus on me.” His voice, gentle but commanding, was in stark contrast to the way his hands hungrily moved over you. You opened your eyes to see his cool blue ones staring back at you. He had somehow wrestled you out of your pants - the ones he had given you less than twenty minutes ago - dragging your underwear down along with them, and you lay beneath him in nothing but your borrowed shirt, tears streaming down the sides of your face.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Crane said, one hand still on your neck. The fingers of his other hand started to trace small patterns on your hip. “Scared, such a mess, crying for me. Sorry if I cum too quick; it’s just hard not to get riled up when you’re like this.”

Crane unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his thighs. You didn’t want to look at him, but you could feel him pressing against the inside of your leg. He was clearly enjoying this.

You let out a choked sob, and Crane’s smile grew. He was pressing against your entrance, threatening to take you at any moment he wanted.

“You’re wet,” he commented. “You’re actually turned on by this.”

No, you told yourself. No, you weren’t; it was just the drug he had given you. Some kind of fucked up aphrodisiac that was making your body function independently from your mind. You didn’t want this. But then, why did you feel such a rush every time his hands brushed against you?

“Fear is exhilarating, isn’t it?” Crane said quietly, still hovering just on the edge of penetrating you. “Some people find it addictive. Seems like you might be one of them.” He let out a short laugh as he pressed just a bit more into you, inch by devastating inch. “It makes the mind so malleable,” he continued. “Just think: less than an hour ago, you were so afraid and alone that you agreed to come with me - a man you barely know - back to my apartment, alone. That was a bad choice. I’m sure you realize that now. But in that moment, you were so pathetic and vulnerable, I think I probably could have gotten you to do anything.”

You tried not to listen to him; to block his words out. This wasn’t your fault. He was your coworker - a senior member of the staff, for fuck’s sake. You should have been able to trust him. But you had, and look where it had gotten you.

“Now here you are,” Crane continued. You realized with a gasp that he was fully inside of you. “Still just a scared little girl, shaking in my bed. Crying her eyes out.”

“No,” you said weakly, tears still streaming down your face. “No, no, no…”

Crane removed his hand from your neck, and placed his elbows on either side of you, caging you within his arms.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like this,” he spat. “I feel you clenching around me. Maybe I was wrong; maybe it is just being scared that gets you off.”

Now that your hands were free, you brought them to grip at his shirt collar, trying again desperately to push him off. You tried to wriggle away from him, but all that did was make Crane moan at the friction and laugh at your struggling.

“Slow down, honey,” he warned you, his voice thick with sex. “I already warned you how fast you’re gonna make me cum.”

One of his hands found your hip, stopping you and holding you in place. Once he had you submissive again, Crane started to move his hips in slow circles, relishing the feel of you. Despite yourself, you arched your back and grabbed at the sheets with your fingers. He felt good. A fresh round of tears sprang to your eyes as you moaned loudly.

“That’s it,” Crane praised. “Cry for me. Beg me to stop, hit me, scratch me - it doesn’t matter. None of it changes the fact that you’re enjoying this.”

Again, you hated him for being right. Even through the fear - even knowing how horrible what he was doing to you was - somehow, you only wanted more. The room swirled around you, shadows creeping in on your vision again.

You gasped as Crane’s thumb found your clit. You had been on the edge of an orgasm practically since Crane’s drug had entered your system, and it took everything in you to fight the feeling that was building as he pressed on your most sensitive spot.

“Don’t be shy,” Crane pushed. “You can rub yourself against me; pull my hair if you want. Whatever you need to get off. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You hated Crane. You hated him so much - for what he was doing to you, for how he was enjoying it, and most of all for how he was making you powerless to fight against the pleasure. Making your own body a traitor against you. It was obscene and embarrassing and terrifying. With a flash of passion, you reached up and slapped him across the face.

“Ohhhhh, fuck,” he growled.

It was the first time you’d heard him swear, and the realization sent a new heat pooling between your legs. Crane, usually so organized and meticulous, was starting to come apart.

“You have no idea how good you’re making this for me,” Crane teased. A few strands of hair, slick with sweat, were sticking against his forehead. “You’d better be careful, or I’m not gonna be able to pull out of you in time.”

You cried out, half in frustration and half because of the way his thumb was still brushing against you with every shallow thrust of his hips. Everything you tried to do to him only spurred him on more. Your face contorted in anguish, eyes staring up at the ceiling as an orgasm finally ripped through you.

Crane was babbling in your ear - god, he never shut up. You weren’t even paying attention; too focused on your own private nightmare that was unfolding but never seeming to end. You bucked against his hand, involuntarily pushing his cock deeper, and heard him utter a breathless curse.

“Shit.”

When you were conscious of your body again, the first thing you noticed were the wet ropes of cum squirting across your breasts. You still wore Crane’s t-shirt, and the damp fabric pressed against your skin as Crane rutted into his hand above you. Disgusting. He was so depraved. So unbelievably fucking creepy. So hot.

You shook your head. That was just the drug talking. Crane flopped down on the bed next to you, smiling. Pleased with himself. It made you shudder. He let out a satisfied breath.

“Well, again, not what I was expecting,” Crane grunted, sitting up to balance on one elbow as he looked at you. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”

His blue eyes looked at you, making you squirm under the intensity. Without warning, he pinched your chin between his fingers and held you in place for a long, horrifically sensuous kiss.

“I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”

Outside, thunder crashed again, and you jumped.

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane smut #LemmyFics

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the-moonlightwitch-official · 7 months

Text

AINT NO PLACE LIKE "HOME" pt:5

summary: y/n l/n is a 18 year old girl that struggled in school a lot. It all started in kindergarten when her soul marks never appeared, becoming the class joke. But trust me, y/n’s life never got any easier when the marks did finally appear.

WARNING: MINORS DNI 18+, student x teacher, mentions of burning, scars, bullying, polyamorous, yandere, yandere themes, kidnapping, murdering, nsfw, DELUSION, violence.

THIS IS GOING TO BE LONG.

Great, everyone believes you're dead now. The look of absolute dread on your face never went unnoticed by the trio. They don't care, the hard part is over with now. You look down at the chain wrapped around your ankles and grab the chain to play with it, while thinking about izuku and everything that happened at the hotel. It happened too fast, way too fast. They knew exactly where you were in a drop of a dime. But how? Is izuku ok? What about my mom?

“Seems the hard part is over with now huh”? You keep your head down as a pair of bare feet come into view. You hold the chain tighter and run your thumb over it. “Aw not talking to your favorite person?” the words of the man going in one ear and out the other. Refusing to grace them with your eyes as you stared at the ground. They seemed bummed out that you didn't speak nor look at him. So he crouched down into your view and rested his arms on his knees. His long blond hair falling over his muscular shoulders as he leans towards you, his green irises peering at you through his glasses. It's Hizashi.

You’ve never seen him in normal glasses before. He looks good, too good. You never noticed him without the apron either, he must’ve taken it off when you weren't paying attention. The half naked muscular man in tight pink boxers making you blush. You averted your eyes before he

notices you looking too hard, can't let him have what he wants.

He huffed and tilted his head. He raised a hand to caress your face and gently rub his thumb over your jawline. You closed your eyes as he admired you like a hungry and greedy man. He gripped your jaw and gently forced your head to look in his direction. “Look at me.” you closed your eyes tighter and forced your head out of his hand. In return he rolled his eyes and spoke with patience.

“Everythings gonna be fine ok, we got this. You’ll be grateful soon enough. There's plenty of food to eat and room to run around in.” you opened your eyes and looked at him disgusted that he was talking to you like you were some animal in a cage. “Hey and maybe if you behave you can go outside. With supervision of course.” he smiled at you, the light practically beaming off of his perfect pearly whites. You felt a wave of emotions rising in you as you contemplated violently knocking his perfect teeth out of his mouth. You both turned your heads when a voice cut in.

“have the cameras been set up yet”? Shota asks while walking past to make himself some coffee in the kitchen. All the violent thoughts in your head have been halted.

Jesus he’s fine as fuck. You watch as he walks past with pure lean muscle from head to toe, tight black boxers, and long black hair flowing with his movement, he looked almost like a god. Hizashi notices you watching sho as he walks past you guys all the way to the kitchen.

Hizashi smirks at you as he stands up and responds to him “not yet, but later today the team is gonna come back and finish up the work to set up the cameras and all that.” he said while walking towards shota who was pouring piping hot coffee into his favorite gray mug, that no one else is allowed to use. The steam rising from the mug looks hypnotizing as he pours it. He gently places the coffee pot back into its place, before taking a sip of the piping hot liquid.

You can't seem to understand why he likes his coffee that way, hizashi can't either.

No cream or sugar, just black coffee. That's how he liked it, simple. Toshi used to drink it like that as well, but ever since his incident with one for all leaving that wound, doctors advise him not to drink any heavily caffeinated drinks. If he wishes to enjoy a cup, it must be sparingly.

You can’t help but stare mesmerized as your soon to be fiance shota leaned against the counter. Abs flexing as he crosses his muscular arms over his chest while holding the steaming cup of coffee. His hair is a long black mess falling over his shoulders. You honestly wouldn’t mind giving your virginity to him, especially when he looked like that under his clothes. you secretly favored him over the others. But you are upset with him for what he did to Izuku. Your attention was broken when Hizashi snapped his fingers and looked at shota with excitement. “Guess what?” shota looked up at him with tired dead eyes “what”.

“ I know we were trying to be smart with our money considering the plan and all, but I did pay extra for extremely strong glass. Y’know for all the windows and mirrors, and even the glass doors, y’know for extra security.” He said as he walked to the kitchen window and knocked on it. “She ain’t gonna break this bad boy. Theyre gonna install all of it today.” shota nodded impressed and responded after taking another sip. “Good purchase.”

toshinori got up off of the couch and made his way over to you “where are we going to put her, while they’re here?”

Hizashi looked over at the clock on the wall knowing they’re gonna be here in a couple of hours. “Shit your right.” he clicked his teeth with his tongue while thinking. “Well they pretty much finished installing her room yesterday, could put her up there, and you could keep her company while I work down here with the team.” hizashi said to toshi while looking up at you with his hands on his hips.

Toshi nodded in agreement. “Well I gotta get going, gotta work.” shota cut in while setting his finished coffee cup on the counter. He pecked hizashi and toshi on the lips as he disappeared upstairs. Hizashi looked at toshi. “I gotta head to work after the team leaves, can you handle her?'' Toshi looks at you and smiles “of course, she's a good girl. Except for the fight from yesterday.'' Hizashi looked down at you remembering the fight. “Gonna have to work extra hard for my forgiveness, " he said while massaging the bruise on his calf. You looked up at him confused and disgusted. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Hizashi smiled at you sweetly and seductively '' Anything you want it to mean sunshine. alright i'm gonna go put some clothes on”. He said as he stood up straight and patted you on the head and disappeared up the same stairs as his husband.

Toshi walked over to you bending down to start undoing your chains. “BEHAVE” he said as he stared into your soul. He wore a black shirt and gray sweatpants. Not as attractive as the others, also never thought he would wear that either. He grabbed your arm and helped you up before gathering the chains and guiding you down a hallway and into your new room that's right beside his.

So hizashi and sho’s rooms are upstairs. There's apparently a bunch of rooms with bathrooms but they chose your room to be one without one, since they would want you to use one of theirs with supervision. The bedroom was honestly beautiful. The bed, the lights, the curtains, the decor, you even have a tv. No wonder everyone leaves the decorating to hizashi.

“Do you need to use the restroom?” he asked, looking down at you while holding your arm and tossing the chains onto the bed. “No”. It was a lie, and a big one. But you know that he would stand in there with you. “Alright then” he said as he picked you up and placed you on the bed. “What are you doing?” you asked as he started wrapping the chains around your ankles again.

“What's necessary, especially after yesterday.” After he wrapped you up he grabbed the television remote and laid down next to you. “What do you wanna watch” you huffed and turned over. “Nothing.” toshinori rolled his eyes and turned on a sitcom.

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

After half an hour you heard a couple of knocks on your door before it creaked open. Shota walked in dressed in his hero suit. He kissed toshi before walking to the other side of the bed to lean over you and peck your forehead with his lips. You pretended to be asleep. Sho knew that was bullshit. But he couldn't help but admire you as he ran his scared fingers through your hair. The memories of his horrific act with the clone, clouding his mind. Your “funeral” is also today. He’s gotta look nice at the funeral that's going to be broadcasted on national television. Toshi is supposed to be there, but he can't so sho will make an excuse for him.

His mind raced with thoughts as he began to caress your face gently as if you were made of glass and would break. You're here, and you're safe, that's all that matters to him. He bent down one last time to peck your lips before heading off to work. His lips were warm and minty. He must have put on some chapstick. It sadly made you crave more. Without thinking you chased his lips when he pulled away. He looked down at you surprised before dipping back down. He connected his lips with yours again. You were shocked that you did that. But his lips feel good. It felt like a comfort you never knew you needed. He pulled away and smiled at you. “I gotta head out, ok?” he said. You looked away ashamed of what you did. He waved at toshi before walking out.

You stared at the ceiling as you heard him walking through the house and out of the front door. Hearing his car drive off before deciding to look over at toshi who had his reading glasses on while playing a crossword puzzle out of a book. Good lord. You heard more knocking on the door and looked over, and in came the boisterous blond. He was wearing a white shirt and black sweatpants as well with his Long blond hair in a bun. He smiled brightly at you and toshi. “Doesn’t this room look beautiful? I had it done specifically to your preferences sweetheart.”

you looked confused then scanned the room. He was right, your favorite colors and animals and posters. Everything down to a T, and you never noticed. But how could he know? He never saw your room….right?

Little did you know that his obsession with you is stronger than the other two’s. It got so bad that he was getting up in the middle of the night, and sneaking out of the house without waking his husband to go to your home and sneak into your window undetected to watch you sleep. There's been many nights where he slept in the same room with you without you knowing.

Even went as far as to unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants, watching as his rock hard length sprung into the cool air with a red hot tip dribbling pre cum. He rubbed one out as he stood at the foot of your bed.

He even used your lotion. Precum flying everywhere as he thrusted into his fist roughly at the end of your bed. Loud slick sounds bounced off the walls as he picked up the pace and tightened his fist. He picked up a pair of used panties off the floor to catch his cum as it spurted out. He breathed heavily as he looked up at you after cumming. Smiling like a dork. Thinking to himself that he wishes that you could watch him do that. He has a kink for his partners watching him touch himself. If only you could see how big and long he was, how he could satisfy you and hit every spot inside of you, making you scream, as your ass bounced off his dick.

But that information stays with him until the day he dies. But just know that he definitely has seen your room more than enough times. “It's awesome right?” he said looking at you expectantly. You looked around trying not to get creeped out. “Sure” he frowned at the simple, small uninterested answer. Before he could say anything else. You all heard loud car door slams outside. Not like you could look outside your window since you're chained to your bed. Toshinori sat up and Hizashi walked over to the window.

“Great they’re here”! He says spinning around and walking out of the room.

The next couple of hours were filled with loud footsteps, loud bangs, and thuds, the sounds of hammers and drills as they install cameras and decor to hizashi’s liking. The blond's loud voice constantly booming around the house with “NOT THERE” and “PUT IT HERE” and “HEY BE CAREFUL WITH THOSE, THEY WERE MY MOTHERS.”

You looked up as a couple of men entered your room to install a camera in the corner of your ceiling. Hizashi entered the doorway and met toshinoris glare. “Sorry I forgot about a camera needing to be in this room too.” Hizashi said while he shrugged at toshi. You looked up at the man on the ladder, and the men surrounding him. They were all purposefully not looking at you. Like they felt pity for you. No...almost like they were scared to look in your direction. Almost like if they even dared to view you, they would meet their fate. Hizashi is their fate. He's the most obsessive and predatory person you have ever met.

“All right, great work boys.” he said as they wrapped up everything and started heading out of your room. One stayed behind. “Looks like we did everything, it all looks pretty good, and the cameras were installed perfectly. If you have any questions or need anything else, please call me.” Hizashi nodded at him with respect and handed him a $100 tip, and with that all the men gathered their belongings and left the home.

You looked up at the camera pointing right at you in the corner of your room. “Check this out toshi, we can download an app that controls the cameras.” Hizashi said as he used his phone to move the camera every which way. Great definitely no privacy. He walked over to toshi to help him download the app. Once they got all that situated. Hizashi left to get ready for work. Toshi thanked god that it was his day off because then you would be left home alone. What could be better than Toshi's company? He thought to himself.

Hizashi came back into the room smiling in his hero suit. “All right my doves, I must be off.” he said as he kissed Toshi on the lips and rounded the bed to kiss you. He tried to kiss your lips but you dodged it. He didn't give up though, you kept moving your head around to dodge the kisses and eventually he got tired of it and grabbed your face and forced your lips onto his. “See it wasnt that hard huh?” he said, chuckling to himself. He stood up straight and fixed his jacket. “All right, I'm going to work, I'll be back later. If you need anything toshi im one call away.” Toshi nodded at him and wished him well.

The day carried on with you laying in bed and toshinori doing paperwork with reading glasses next to you in bed. He occasionally thought about izuku. How disappointed in him he is for kidnapping you and scaring you. (still delusional i see). He thought about how he is going to deal with him. No better way than to threaten him. You thought about izuku as well. How is he doing?

You decided to change the channel and forget your worries. Until the news channel came on and it's a funeral. You thought nothing of it until the person in the casket looked familiar… is that…you? It's a funeral. For you. Toshinori looked up from his puzzle to see what the commotion was. His eyes widened. Shit… he forgot about that happening today.

Aizawa was there looking down with everyone else as they prayed over your casket. Your mother was there beside him “sobbing”. She didn't seem too upset. Maybe she knows you're still alive. Hope filled your body. Maybe you can be saved. The funeral wasn’t too long. Your casket was lowered into the ground and everyone was interviewed, paying their respects. Including your mother. Aizawas' interview was just a bunch of “you cant save everyone” bullshit. Great now everyone DEFINITELY believes that you're dead.

They wasted no time getting the ball rolling for everything. It hasn't even been a day yet and your funeral is already happening.

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

Hizashi had no problem covering for his husband's class while he was attending your “funeral”. It wasn’t for too long since the funeral was set to start a couple of hours before class starts. Shota was only 10 minutes late to class today. Nothing major. Once he returned Hizashi told him how good and quiet the kids were today before heading to his own class.

Shota seemed to be treating Midoriya differently today. He seems to drop everything he hands izuku onto the ground before izuku could grab it, Almost like shota is dropping it on purpose. He hands out classwork to everyone but izuku. He huffs in annoyance when izuku raises his hand. Izuku’s terrified of his teacher because of the past event that happened, but he must be brave. “Yes midoriya?” he says in a low sinister tone. Izuku gulps. “You didn't hand me one sir.” shota rolls his eyes before saying “oh you mean one of these?” while lifting up a sheet of classwork. GULP ``yes sir” he smirks. “Come get one then.'' Izuku stood up slowly and made his way to his teacher's desk. It felt like centuries as Aizawa stared at him. He stopped at the foot of his desk and looked down at the sheet of paper sitting next to his teacher's laptop. Shota noticed his hesitancy.

In a low predatory tone he spoke. “Go on, take it.” izuku closed his eyes and gulped before slowly reaching his shaky hand to grab the paper. “I'm not gonna bite.” Once izuku’s hand touched the paper, shota jumped and growled loudly at him just like a dog attack. Izuku snatched his hand back to himself and stumbled over himself. He looked horrified at Aizawa as he laughed like it was the funniest thing he has ever done. He's never seen his teacher laugh so hard or even smile in that matter. Izuku’s heart is beating out of his chest. Shota stands up and wipes a tear from his own eye.

“Oh you know I'm just joking around with ya kid. You should have seen your face.” he says as he hands him the sheet of paper. Izuku just stares at him. “Well go on, take it.” shota insists. He snatches the paper quickly out of his teachers hand as if he’ll rip his arm off. Shota’s face drops back into a dead look before leaning over in his face and saying in a chilling tone. “Now go sit the fuck down.”

Izuku scrambled back to his desk while the class laughed at him. He couldn't focus on his work after that. Shota noticed. “Midoryia, you better focus, I would hate to have to take you out of the hero course.” izuku looked up and saw shota staring at him through his long back hair. “Yes sir.”

Hizashi treated midoriya no differently than shota. Constantly “forgetting” about him, and torturing him. Giving him more homework than the rest of the class. Izuku regretted getting involved with your scary situation. But you're his best friend, how could he not? You're gone now and there's nothing he can do. He saw the news. You were found dead in that very hotel room, and had a funeral later as well. It doesn't make sense. Not for someone who was there. He saw you being escorted out. How could you end up back in the same room dead. He doesn't believe what everyone was fooled by. You're not dead. He knows it.

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

“Tea”? Toshinori shouted from the kitchen. “Sure” you said looking dead at the living room television as some random rom com played. He was nice enough to let you out of your chains earlier since you asked nicely and promised to be good. How far could you possibly get? This place is basically locked down to the highest levels possible. The locks are apparently top notch along with the glass windows and doors, and there are hella cameras. Your ass aint getting anywhere without anyone knowing. Hell, just moving an inch would have the cameras notifying them.

They were even nice enough to inject a small quirk canceling thing in your arm while you were asleep. Definitely an illegal thing. They got it off the street from a guy who also laced it so you couldn't feel it. You can thank Toshinori for that idea since he used to do drugs when he was at his lowest, fucking all those women looking for his soulmate (aka you). The only reason you know about the thing in your arm is because toshi slipped up when he was mumbling about protecting you when he thought you were asleep.

“I need to use the bathroom.” you mumbled as toshi walked over to you carefully with a hot cup of tea, setting it down in front of you. He stood back up and nervously wiped his hands on his pants and looked around. “Uh sure, of course.” you stood up and looked at him. “Oh, uh, it's upstairs and it's the first door on the left. Do you want me to come with”? You shook your head. “I can manage, i mean how far can i get in this house?” you laughed in defeat. Apparently he didn't find that funny. He watched as you made your way up to the bathroom. You closed the door and scrambled to the toilet to pee immediately. You’ve been holding it since this morning. Luckily toshi trusted you enough to take the chains off your feet and let you roam around. Almost time for the other two to start heading home if they don't have other plans. After wiping you stood up and pulled your pants up. You washed your hands with the wonderfully scented soap that hizashi picked out.

You sighed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. God you look like shit. You bent down and splashed your face with ice cold water for almost a solid minute as if you're trying to wake yourself up from this dream. Not working. You shut off the water and walked over to the towels and dried your face off. You thought about everything and took a deep breath and put your back against the wall and slid down to the floor. You slumped over on the floor wishing death upon yourself. Looking straight ahead you notice the sink cabinets. Wonder what’s under there. You get up on your knees and crawl over and open it, of course you expected back up bathroom necessities, and it was. But you notice something all the way in the back. A singular bobby pin. An idea slams your brain. The locks around the house may be top notch, but you're sure it's nothing a bobby pin cant take care of.

You quickly move everything and grab the bobby pin. You sit back and hold the bobby pin in between your palms as you pray to the heavens that your idea works. Hope finds its way into your heart. But all of that was interrupted by knocking on the door. You scrambled to close the cabinet and stand up shoving the bobby pin into your sock. “Hey, are you alright, you’ve been in there for a while.”

“Yeah im fine.” you say with your heart beating out of your chest. You stumble back as he unlocked the door with ease and came in. “sorry just had to make sure you were ok.” he walked into the bathroom and scanned it and scanned you. Looks fine to him. “Let's go play a board game, yeah”? You nodded and followed him to the dining room table as he grabbed a board game from a large cabinet. “Let's play candyland.” he said as he smiled at you bringing it over to set it on the table. Candyland, your childhood game. How the fuck do these creeps know everything about you. “Have you played this before”? He asked as he unpacked it. Oh as if he doesn’t fucking know.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I get a snack out of the fridge”? He looked up and over to the kitchen. “Sure” he didn't worry since he could see everything going on in the kitchen from where he sat. you stood up and went to the fridge pretending to pick something out. The fridge and kitchen was loaded with snacks and foods that you liked. The only reason they would know is from the worksheets they hand us in the beginning of the year to write things down about ourselves and the snacks, foods, hobbies, music, and colors that we like.

You walked over to the cabinet close to a small stairway that led to a hallway with a glassdoor. One that led to the outside world. You looked over to toshi to see his nose deep in the board game instructions. You looked around the kitchen with something to hit him with. There's no knives. They hid them all. Fuck. But there's a cutting board. It was a fancy glass one, it was fucking heavy. You quietly grab it and put it behind your back and make your way over to toshi. He never noticed you walking over, raising a cutting board over your head in a deadly manner.

He started mumbling to himself, confused on the instructions “Wait, if this goes here, then this must go-” WHAM

He was out like a light. His blond head slamming against the table. Silence filled the room as he slumped over. You stared at him terrified that you actually did that before the adrenaline kicked in and you were running like a bat out of hell towards the back door. Regret fills you as you approach the clear glass door and notice how gray and foggy it is outside from all of the heavy rain, how could you even see? Why now of all times? It's too late now. It’s now or never. You scrambled to get the pin out from your sock, you were shaking so bad that you dropped it a few times, before finally getting it into the door, after constantly looking behind you. “CLICK” oh my god. You did it. It's unlocked. So much for “MAXIMUM security locks”. You grabbed the door knob and swung the door open, and there it is, that beautiful view you were dying to see. The outside world. After looking over your shoulder just one more time, you booked it out of the house. You could see it, smell it, and taste it. Freedom.

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

School let out and shota decided to stay and take over for the detention teacher since they had a personal emergency, and hizashi decided to go over to your mothers house and share his condolences for your death. He hopped into the car throwing his bags into the back seat and took his jacket, speaker, headphones and shades off. Tossing them in the passenger seat beside him. He grabbed a comb from out of the glove department and combed his hair down and put it in a bun. He opened the department to put the brush back and grabbed a pair of his normal glasses and put them on. He looked in the rearview mirror at his face to see if he looked good. Even checking his pearly white teeth. “Alright” he said as he put the keys in the ignition and started the car. “Let's get this ball rolling.” he said as he began to drive out of there.

Hizashi decided to hit up a flower shop on the ride there. Once he got the flowers, he was on his way to your moms. The car ride there was almost unbearable, the traffic was awful and he almost got T-boned 12 times by fucking idiots who apparently are color blind to traffic lights. But alas, he made it. He slowly pulled up to your house and turned the car off. Deciding to look into the mirror one last time before taking a deep breath and getting out. He closed the car door and made his way up your porch. He took a deep breath as he rang the doorbell. Sounds of a small dog barking and a woman telling it to hush, can be heard on the other side of the door. The sound of a lock can be heard before the door opens. “Oh hello there.” your mother says with a bright smile. Hizashi nodded “hello ms. L/n, do you mind if i come in”? She looked him up and down in a seductive way before answering. “Why sure.” he was absolutely disgusted. Her daughter just “died” and this is how she acts?

Hizashi kept his smile as he entered the home and looked around as your mother shut the door behind him. “Are those for me”? She asked sweetly. Hizashi nods and hands her the flowers. “Oh I gotta find a pretty vase for these.” she sings as she walks to the kitchen. “Oh I almost forgot, how rude of me. Would you like any Tea, water, juice, or coffee”? She asked while scurrying past him to pull out a chair from the table for him to sit. He waved his hand with dismissal while sitting down in the seat she offered. “No thank you, I appreciate it though”.

He smiled at her.

“Ok then, what brings your handsome self here”? She says as she fills a vase with water and places the flowers inside. He visibly cringes with the language. “I just thought that I should come by and give you my condolences about what happened with y/n”. He says as he fakes a look of concern and sadness on his face.

She looks down and chuckles a bit. “Oh, that's all”? Setting the flowers aside.

Hizashi looks confused. “She’s not all that special to me mr. Yamada.” Your mom looks straight ahead out the window above the sink into the back yard to look at the swingset that you used to play on when you were a kid.

“Yes, she was my child. But she was nothing but a financial problem for me and my boyfriends that i dated. They wanted her gone. But I kept her since she had a chance of becoming a hero and being famous, so I would be able to use her for my own wealth. I mean this swingset I bought for her put me into debt.” She says as she gestures her hand towards the swingset outside of the window.

Hizashi’s eyes widened. What. the. Actual. Fuck. And he thought HE was sick in the head. Get a load of this bitch. He’s stunned. This was never the reaction he thought he would get. This is a joke right?

“I'm sorry”? He says as he stands up. “You heard me. I'm free now. No more having to pay for an ungrateful little bitch, no more forcing her into the hero course, and no more stress of trying to figure out what to do with her since all of my past boyfriends don't seem like her. I can now erase her as if I never had a child, and I would have better luck with relationships” She turned and smiled at Hizashi but her smile faltered a little bit before saying, “but my chance of wealth is out of the picture now that she’s gone.”

“Is that all you're worried about”? Hizashi says in all seriousness and rage. Damn he never thought your mom would say such things about you. “At the moment, yes. Besides, now that she’s gone I can finally shoot my shot with you. I have always had a thing for you, But dating my daughter's teacher would be odd, but she's gone now, and you're definitely my type.” she says as she walks over with a seductive smirk.

He takes a few steps back. “You choose men over your own child and teachers are where you draw the line”? She reaches the table that he stood at and leans on it. “What's the matter, I've always noticed the way you look at me, your partner with the dark hair as well, maybe we can run a train. You should call him since you're already here” she says as she gestures her head behind her towards her bedroom. Hizashi looks past her shoulder and sees she's gesturing to her room.

He visibly cringes trying not to vomit from pure disgust. It takes everything in him not to tell her that he’s definitely into her daughter instead of her. Rage fills his body. “How the fuck could you say something like that.” His heart hurts for you. Thank the Gods that he kidnapped you, he practically saved you and he can tell you had no idea that your mother held this secret of rage and hatred. His soul hurt. Memories of him attending crime scenes where the child met a terrible fate because the mothers chose the man over them, begins to flood in and haunt him where he stands. He wishes nothing but the worst for those types of mothers. Little did he know that your mother was one of them.

She looks at him confused seeing that he hurts for you. “What? You want her over me? Oh my god of course you do, she’s always been prettier than me.'' She throws her hands up in defeat and walks towards him shoving a finger to his chest. “Fine, if thats how you want to be then get the fuck out of my house. NOW!” he stares down at her with anger and a lone tear falling down his face. He contemplates his next move.

This is all happening so fast and unexpected. Does he beat her until she’s unrecognizable? Does he start recording and show the police and frame her for the death of her daughter? The second option sounds like a wonderful plan honestly. His fists clenched up. She huffed and turned around to walk away. He raises his fist but logic struck him before he could hit her. He quickly straightened himself up and walked out of the home. He walked to his car as he wiped his tears. Leaving the house with her still alive in it, took a lot of strength not to kill her. He looked in the rearview mirror and checked his face, wiping any excess tears. He straightened his glasses and started the car, backing out of the driveway. She's not getting away with this alive. Hizashi wont allow it. He can't hurt her unfortunately because It'll cost him his career. But he'll find a way. If she wont show you the love appreciation that you deserve then he will, and so will sho and toshi.

He called toshinori who wasn’t picking up and decided to call shota instead. He was so angry and upset he didn't even bother checking the cameras when Toshi didn't answer. Little did he know that he should have.

With a couple of rings shota picks up. Without wasting time he speaks “sho i'm going to take a street parole shift for tonight.” he waits for shota to answer. “Why?'' Hizashi thinks about everything and huffs. “Someone called off and there isn’t anyone to take over, so I decided to.” he lied. “Ok then, i’ll see you late tonight then?'' Hizashi nods. “Yes.”

“Ok is there anything else you called me for?” Hizashi hovers his finger over the end call button on his steering wheel before saying “no, I just wanted to inform you of that. I love you goodbye.” then clicked the button, ending the call. He’s working tonight because he can't go home and have you see him like this. He wanted to spend tonight with you especially after what just happened. So he’ll just have to make it up to you tomorrow and stay home from work.

He began grabbing all of his outfit accessories from the passenger seat and put them on as he drove to the hero agency where he would be spending the rest of his day.

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

The air was freezing as it hit your face along with sprinkles of rain that were getting heavier by the minute. You can't breathe anymore from how long and fast you’ve been running, even stepping on a few spikey seed pods on the ground with your bare feet, but you never stopped running. You can't feel your legs anymore. Your Lungs are cold and heavy in your chest. You must keep going. Wait, I found it. The gate at the end of the driveway. You started to slow down as you approached it. You looked frantically behind you as you came to a stop in front of it. You would never know if he followed you out here, since the fog is too heavy to see through.

The humidity does nothing to aid your breathing, as the rain picks up. Turning around you begin to scan your surroundings as the rain begins to violently soak everything around. Your hair and clothes are now soaking wet and heavy.

The bars are too close together, and you can't climb them since they were built to be sharp at the top. The walls were made of bricks with barbed wire at the top. Fuck. You look over and see a “private property” and “smile for the camera” sign on the side of the gate. Looking above the signs you see a giant camera facing you. There must be cameras on both sides. Your brows knit in anger as you lift your middle finger to the camera.

Trying but getting stuck when you try to squeeze through the bars. Anger taking over as you used whatever strength you had to get yourself unstuck, ultimately flying and landing in a huge puddle of rainwater. You stared at the gray sky that sported a huge flash of lightning, and a few moments later the loudest sound of thunder you have ever heard in your life. You couldn’t help but sob. “Please, just please.” you prayed and spoke to whoever was listening. Taking a deep breath, you got up and looked over at a tree that was super close to the wall. Perfect. You ran over to the tree and began climbing it. Thank God for your tree climbing skills that you got when you were a kid. You got to the top and crawled along a branch that would take you to the other side. Almost there. “BAM”

Everything around you shook. The branch bounced and caused you to fall, almost face planting into the barbed wire. Your body slammed into a large puddle on the ground. You were covered from head to toe in mud. There's no time to waste, you thought to yourself as you scrambled to stand up. You thought nothing of the large sound that happened, thinking that it was just thunder. You turned around and your heart stopped beating. Toshinori stood there in his might form, staring down at you. Looking up in fear, you backed up as his hulking form loomed over you.

The shadows covering his eyes perfectly made him look more frightening. He breathed deep and heavy with anger as the rain bounces off of his huge form. Neon blue irises peered at you through the shadows around his eyes, making you realize that the sound that you thought was thunder was actually him hitting the ground from out of the sky. Looking down you noticed the mud scattered everywhere and a huge divot in the ground under his feet from the impact.

You stumble backwards from the large man. Only causing him to take a step forward for every step that you took back. The ground vibrates under you with every step that you take. Eventually backing up into the brick wall with nowhere to go. He is towered over you, seething. The only thing that you can do now is beg. “P-please, im sorry, i-i-i did not mean t-to hurt you.” great now you're stuttering. You raise your hands up in defense. “You know I wouldn't mean to hurt you. Please. I have to go home, i-i miss my mom, and my life, i h-have to go home please. Please.” you stuttered and begged through your sobs.

The begs of mercy and pleas fell upon deaf ears. Almost like they were bouncing off of a wall as he just stood there staring at you, not making a single sound. Nothing worse than the silence. Nothing can be heard but the pitter patter sounds of rain hitting every surface around the both of you and the occasional sound of thunder. He reaches forward and you shriek. Dodging his grip and running for your life. You knew your fate was sealed as the ground below you failed you with slippery mud. Slipping and falling on your ass multiple times didn't stop you from getting up to run. He wasn’t running, he was walking slowly towards your small frail frame as you ran like your life depended on it. He walked like a killer from a movie. Slow and taunting like.

You slipped one last time. And he caught up to you. A shriek pierced the air as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you to your feet from the roots of your head. He got a mere inch from your face and stared into your soul. He was so close that you could feel the air from his nostrils on your face. You couldn’t help but sob and bring your arms above your head to try to pry his large hand off of your scalp, only causing more pain for yourself. His voice causes you to freeze. “You have disappointed me y/n l/n”. His voice was terrifyingly calm. Without a second longer he threw you into the air and caught you before jumping off of the ground and using the force of his strength to fly into the air towards the house. A loud scream of “NO” erupted from you as he jumped off the ground.

This was horrifying. You were already scared of heights and you could see the earth below you as you flew 3000 ft into the air. So that's how he got to where you were. He flew. But how did he know exactly where you were in the huge messy forest surrounding the driveway. You missed the cameras that were planted all over the forest that were facing right at you, pinpointing every location you were. The landing felt like it could have killed you with the force of impact. He straightened his body after landing and walked to the back of the house where the glass door that you ran through. He walked carefully through the door to make sure that he can fit through it without having to drop you or change his size. He was successful. You watched as your freedom slipped away from your fingers like sand as he closed the door.

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

It was almost 7pm and shota began packing up everything. The kids were dismissed hours ago, but he needed to finish leftover work that hasn't been done since the incident of you being ‘kidnapped’ by izuku. Man, he's hungry. Should he pick something up to bring home? Nah cooking sounds good, even though he's absolutely exhausted. He hasn’t had homemade meals in a while other than this morning. Too much takeout lately. He smirked at the thought of you watching him while he's in the kitchen with an apron on. He noticed the way you looked at him this morning when he was wearing nothing but boxers.

He held onto that thought as he exited the building with his bag, only to stop as he saw the heavy rain pouring. Yeesh he shouldn’t have parked so far away. He raised his bag over his head to protect him from the rain as he jogged to his car. He quickly unlocked his car and jumped in as he tossed his bag to the passenger seat. Shota took a deep breath as he watched the unbearably heavy rain bounce off of his windshield. Jeez. He took his phone out to shoot a text to toshi that he's on his way home now. Toshi replied quickly with a thumbs up. Shota was satisfied with Toshi's answer and put the phone down before starting the car and turning the windshield wipers on at the highest level, before driving off.

The drive home sucked. The amount of times that idiots almost hit him from every angle is horrendous. Something about the rain makes people drive like fucking morons. He pulled up to the gates and showed the camera his face and it unlocked the gates for him. He takes a deep breath as the gates slowly open, hoping he doesn't come home to any surprises because you misbehaved in any way shape or form. He presses on the gas and makes his way down the driveway. After about 5 minutes the house comes into view. “Hmm, not burned down. That's a good sign.” He reaches the house and stops the car. He turns the car off and takes the keys out of the ignition. Reaching over he grabs his bag to hover over his head again as he exits the vehicle in the pouring rain. He reaches the door and unlocks all 3 locks and types in a passcode before being let in.

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

You were terrified as you laid strapped down and chained to your bed. Toshinori is lying beside you watching tv with his fingers intertwined on his chest. Giving you the occasional glare. He was disappointed that it got to the point where he had to break out the straps and make you completely immobile. You know something is waiting for you. You both perk up when you both hear the sound of the front door being opened. Your heart beats heavier than before. “Shota’s home.” toshinori said as he got up and walked out, leaving you alone in the room. No no no no what's going to happen to me?

After what seemed like half an hour, the door opened and Shota stepped in, and shut the door calmly. He slowly stalked towards your bed, and stood at the end of it. Putting both of his hands on the bed frame and leaning on it towards you. His raven hair falling over his shoulders as he glared at you. Eyes glowing just slightly red. You can tell that he’s had a rough day. This cannot be good. Panic rose in your soul as you tried to find the right words to plead. You were about to open your mouth but quickly zipped it when he noticed words were about to come out of your mouth and gripped the bed frame even harder causing it to creak in protest and crack open. Long cracks shooting across the frame. His eyes are getting redder and redder. He looked up and took a deep breath before calmly taking his hands off of the frame and standing up straight.

Shota looked down at your ankles. Gently guiding his hand to ghost over your feet.

“I was hoping that you would behave tonight. Now it looks like toshi is going to make dinner while I keep you company”. He ran his index finger along the bottom of your foot, tickling you, causing your foot to jerk. He quickly grabbed it harshly and yanked it to him. He stared into your soul menacingly as his rough, scarred hands held your foot in an iron clasp grip. “Please i-”

His raven hair started to float when more noise left your mouth, causing you to quickly shut it.

He sighed heavily before speaking in a low unnerving tone.

“I don't want to do this, but I'm left with no choice. I can't let you off scott free with just a few ‘im sorrys’. You won't learn anything.” He squeezed your foot even harder, to the point of snapping it in half. “Your actions have consequences. And hopefully this lesson will stick in that fucking head of yours.” He then grabbed the second ankle and looked you dead in the eyes before gripping them both tightly with the strength only a god could have before snapping both of your ankles in different directions causing horrendous damage to your bones. White hot pain shot through your ankles and legs. Your blood curdling screams fell of deaf ears as he dropped your ankles back onto the bed like they were nothing. The weight of them slamming back onto the bed causes you to scream louder.

Shota stalked over to you and tilted his head as he watched you sob with snot and drool running down your face. He reached down and gripped a handful of hair in his hand as he lifted your head roughly. “Look” you refused to open your eyes. “I SAID LOOK” the fear overtaking whatever was left of your body and to your dismay, you opened your eyes. He was showing you the work he was proud of. Horror filled your entire body as he spoke. “Look at that, can't go anywhere now huh”? Your face going pale as you stared down at your twisted fuck up ankles beyond repair. He slammed your head back down to the bed and got close to your ear so there was no way you couldn’t hear him. “Hopefully THIS” he says as he shakes your limp ankle causing you to wince in pure agony. “Will be a lesson that sticks, Because this is only a mere warning.”

You began to sob but he gripped your hair even tighter and shook your head. “Next time you wont have any fucking feet, and thats only if i feel generous enough to let you keep your whole legs.” He dropped your head and stood up straight. “Your grounded, no tv, tablet, board games, or whatever the fuck you do in your free time. Your going to be in this bed and never fucking leave it, not like you can anyway.” he chuckled to himself. He began to walk out before turning back to you. “No privacy either, this door stays open and if I catch it closed I'm going to take it off of its hinges, no bathroom time by yourself either, and no dinner.” he said as he walked out of the door to leave you in a sobbing broken mess on your own bed.

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

Man, it's soaking out here. Mic thought to himself as he patrolled the empty dark streets. The occasional grocery bag skidding across the pavement from the wind. He honestly wishes something would happen, time is moving way too slow for his liking. He can't help but think about your mother and what a vile human being she is. Then he thinks about you. He hopes everything is going ok at home. He fights the urge to call shota so check up on you, he's not supposed to be caught on his phone during patrols. His hair is soaking wet and has fallen flat a few hours ago when the rain was at its peak. It’ll be weird seeing THE present mic all dressed up but with his hair down and soaked.

Jeez can something happen please. He was bored out of his mind and he couldn’t take his mind off of your mothers words about you. A scream from the distance halted his thoughts. He perked up and ran immediately to the sound. It's coming from an alleyway. Typical. He walked into the alleyway still bored out of his mind, thinking that this is some cliche everyday robber. “Hey buddy why don't you put the purse down and maybe i’ll le-” mic freezes as the criminal turns his head and peers at him. It's the serial killer that nobody can seem to catch. The very one that kidnaps people and leaves the corpses in america. That same killer that his husband and fiance framed for the “death” of their darling in that hotel room. His face goes pale.

Before mic can say anything the killer drops what he was doing and lunges forward, knocking mic onto his ass. Mic got up and landed a few blows before picking him up and swinging him around and slamming him to the alleyway walls. He held onto the killer's shirt as he continually punched him knocking a few teeth loose. He slammed his head into the wall and held it there as he twisted his arm behind his back and got close to his ear. “It’s over buddy, you’ve been caught. Do you feel guilty? All of those lives you took?” he asks as he took restraints out of his pocket and detained him, throwing him to the ground.

The killer spit up some blood before answering with a big smile that was missing some teeth. “No, never.” mic rolled his eyes while he kept an eye on him and took his phone out ready to dial the police and turn him in. As he was dialing the man spoke up. “Hey hey hey, no need for that man. I can do whatever you want or KILL whoever you want.” mic froze and looked up at him. Ideas coming into mind. The killer noticed the look on mics face.

“Yeah, I can tell you have someone in mind, come on, who is it? All you gotta do is give me a name.” Mic shook his head and put his thumb over the call button, But for some reason he couldn’t press it.

Mike's head was racing. It all halted when the killer interrupted. “Look, you obviously want someone dead mr “hero”. So I'll make a deal, yeah? I’ll wipe out whoever you want and you will let me go, almost like we never crossed paths, yeah”? He tilted his head and looked up at mic. Who was seriously considering it. The killer almost scoffs at how easy it is to manipulate mic.

“Well?” He tilts his head and looks at him expectantly. Mic completely caved. “I want you to murder this woman named (mothers name) that lives on (address).” The restrained man looks up and smiles. Bingo. “How do you want it done”? He asked. Mic began to smile like a maniac. “I want it to be the most brutal work you’ve ever done.” He laughed and smiled to the point where the killer himself got a little creeped out. He must be losing his mind.

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

Mic sits and waits in his car at the end of your mothers driveway. He stares at his steering wheel. He went through with it, he a “HERO” actually negotiated with a serial killer. It must be done. He thinks to himself. Full on delusion taking over.

He took the restraints off of the killer and negotiated with him. Setting a due date for TONIGHT. No other time or day. Their plan was to let him go to do what needs to be done, and then mic will follow and make sure that the person is actually dead before “officially” setting him free. Mic laughed to himself in the car. God that killer is gullible. He doesn’t actually think mic is gonna let him go does he? His thoughts were interrupted by faint screams. He looks up and can see shadows moving violently behind the window blinds.

Anxiety rises in mic and he begins to look around. Eventually the screams stop, and he steps out of the car making sure no one sees him or is outside.

He straightens himself up and walks over to the front door before opening it. He looks over his shoulder once more before closing the door behind him. Damn this house is a mess. There's blood everywhere. Eventually he reaches her corpse. Yep, definitely dead. He looks over and sees the man sitting at the table drinking sparkling water.

“Alright, you’ve seen her. She's dead. We’re good”? Mic nods his head and squats down to look closer at your mother. “Well I'm off then, it was good knowing ya.” the man gets up from the table and walks over to the door and stops. There was a coat rack. It's raining outside so might as well grab one. He begins sifting through all the coats to pick one out. Unaware that mic is creeping up on him. The man sees a shadow and turns around only to be struck on the head and knocked out.

He wakes up in a moving car. He tries to move but can't. Hes tied to the car seat. “HEY” he looks over and sees mic. “We had a deal, remember.” Mic looked over at him and laughed. In a spine tingling tone he answered. “You don't actually think i was gonna let you go, do you”? He said as he pulled into the police station.

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

Shota and toshi eat peacefully at the table as you yell from upstairs. “You didn't give her pain meds?” toshi asked his fiance while chewing food. Shota scraped his fork on the plate a few times. “Nah, she needs to think about what she’s done.” he answered as he shoveled food onto his fork and ate it. He noticed the uncomfortable look on Toshi's face and looked up at the bandage on his head and pointed with his fork while chewing. “She needs to learn toshi, look at what she did to you.”

Toshi listened to what shota said and he reached a hand up to feel the bandage on his head from being hit earlier. He then remembered the event and agreed with his fiance. So then they continued to eat peacefully as you wailed throughout the house.

As dinner was almost over they heard the locks on the door shifting and eventually a tired worn out mic came through the door. Shota put his fork down and stood up and so did toshi. “Hey” shota said as he walked over to hizashi. “You alright, how was your day?” mic looked at him and smiled. “It was good, it was good,” he said, waving off the two.

Toshi kissed zashi after shota said his greetings. “Come eat with us, I made dinner.” toshi said, gesturing to the dinner table. Mic shook his head. “Nah, I gotta go see y/n, I haven't seen her all day.”

Shota looked over at toshi and gestured to him to go sit back down. Shota then grabbed hizashi’s wrist as he was trying to go see you. “Come eat.”

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

Dinner was peaceful. The food was delicious, and the conversations were fun. Just what mic needed after today. You haven’t wailed in an hour. They think you must have fallen asleep. Good, because shota is silently trying to find a way to break the news to his husband about what he did to you. Hizashi has always been the most emotional of the trio. All he could talk about was you at the table, things like “how is she, did she eat anything today, did she behave” shota and toshi just nodded and laughed along with zashi.

“Did she not come to eat?” zashi asked while chewing.

Sho and toshi looked at each other for a second before looking at zashi. “No she didnt” zashi looked confused. “Well why not, should I check on her?” he asked as he quickly put his fork down and began to stand up. Shota lunged forward quickly and grabbed his husband, sitting him back down. “ you haven’t finished your food baby”. Zashi looked at him confused. “I don't like this, shota what's going on?”

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

“YOU WHAT?!”

You woke up from the sudden scream and lifted your head as you heard running up the stairs. HIzashi came running into your room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you laying there with twisted, swollen ankles. Snot dried on your face, puffy red eyes, and messy hair.

He was mortified. He looked back down at your feet. He’s no doctor but he's pretty sure they aren't supposed to bend that way. Shota and toshi come trailing behind him. You looked at them with tears in your eyes. Your head was pounding and your throat was sore from the wailing.

Hizashi turned towards the men. “How could you?” shota rolled his eyes. “It needed to be done, I already told you what she did. You can't keep being soft on her, that's how shit like this happens. Look at what she did to toshi” he said, pointing to the bandage on his head.

Hizashi walked over to you and brushed the hair out of your face and coddled you. Shota scoffed at his husband's reaction. “If you had just listened to me” , Hizashi looked up in rage. “Get out.” toshi then cut in between the two. “Look I understand-” Hizashi jumped up. “I SAID GET OUT!” toshi stopped and put his hands up and walked out leaving shota still in the room. “You too.” hizashi pointed at him with hurt in his expression. “Hiz-” “NOW” shota was stunned but complied and walked out leaving hizashi with you.

“Its ok, everythings gonna be ok” he said as he slowly began losing his mind. He brushed the hair out of your face and ran to get pain meds and water. Completely avoiding shota as he followed him around the house trying to lecture him about just leaving you alone and that you need to suffer to learn. Hizashi completely ignored him. He grabbed a pair of clothes to change into and other necessities, including a plate of food to feed you.

Hizashi slammed your door in shota’s face and ran over to you. “Here take these”. He said as he gave you pain meds and water. “This is gonna hurt ok”? He said as he grabbed a stack of pillows to elevate your feet on. Wincing at the wails of pain that came from you. “It’s ok, i'm gonna stay right here.” he said as he walked over and grabbed the plate of food that he left on his nightstand and sat down next to you and fed you. After feeding you and putting a blanket over you, he stood up and walked over to the other side of the bed and changed his clothes.

He then got under the covers with you and cuddled you. “It's ok” he said over and over again as he shushed your cries. It was like that until the both of you fell asleep.

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

The rays of sun beaming from your window caused you to wake up. You look over and see that hizashi has gotten up and straightened the bed back up and cleaned up the dishes from your nightstand. You smell something amazing in the air, but then remembered what happened to you last night and a wave of nausea hits you like a train. You lay your head down and breathe trying to think of anything else while the three men ate breakfast at the table downstairs.

Hizashi is so angry at shota right now it's not even funny. But he still loves him dearly with all of his heart. So he still kisses him on the cheek and serves him breakfast. Hizashi is always the most emotional out of the trio. So it's damn near impossible for him to ever see eye to eye on shota’s discipline. Pretty much like the fun dad and mean mom. So he will never understand the ankle breaking option that shota chose. Hizashi will never agree with shota’s punishments and will never use them on you himself. He hasn’t quite had a change of heart yet, But if you keep it up, he just might.

He kissed shota and toshi before sending them off to work and waving them goodbye from the porch. They wanted to see you before work, but hizashi wouldn’t allow it. Telling them to give it time. After the cars roll off he takes a deep breath and walks back into the house and cleans up their dishes and tries to find ways to forgive shota while washing them. He then took a plate that he made you out of the microwave and headed upstairs with it.

You heard a few knocks on the door before it opened. You look over and see your soon to be husband walk in holding a plate of food and some juice. Long golden hair wrapped in a low bun, green iris’s lighting up behind his glasses, while wearing a tight black shirt that has a rock band on it, and black and red patterned pj pants.

He smiles bright at you and mouths a “hey” at you while he walks towards you quietly. He sets the plate and cup on your nightstand and bends down to help you sit up. He whispers gently to you “good morning”. He rubs your head when you groan in pain. “I got some food for ya, I think you should eat, songbird.” he says while sitting on the side of the bed to then lay a hand on your legs and start rubbing it in a comforting way. “There's a doctor coming over in a few hours to give you a cast and help you with your ankles so they can heal properly. “ he says as he bends over to grab the food off the nightstand table.

He grabs the fork and shovels some food on it. “Say ah” you roll your eyes, but do it anyway. You take the food off of the fork when he puts it in your mouth and chew. It's spicy. He looks at you expectantly and smiles. “Good?” you nod and he's practically beaming. It was boring while you ate. You weren't allowed to watch tv or read any books or even walk in that matter. That's the only thing about this punishment that hizashi can kind of agree on. So he won't let you do any of those things either. He understands that what you did is bad, so he won't let you get away with it completely. Mid meal, Hizashi started ranting about his husband and toshi. The room was too quiet and he thought that you would make a good listener.

You were surprised most of the conversation, chewing slowly and listening closely as mic ranted about them. Learning new things about them and the things that they did, who they are as people. Shota sounded terrifying. How does mic even sleep with him? Is he a victim? The conversation started when he started talking about your ankles, then he started getting riled up and started venting. Then eventually the conversation circled back to the beginning where he was before he trailed off.

He shoveled the last bit of food on the fork and pointed at you. “Fuck what shota thinks, he believes that you shouldn’t wear a cast or get your ankles fixed. He wants you broken. Toshi disagrees with it too, but he's a pussy. He’s scared of shota. Shotas is pretty much the man of the house.” He said while he raised his arm with the fork in it in a mocking way.

He finally put the fork in your mouth before finishing his rant. “Shota’s gonna kill me when he sees the cast on you.” you chew slightly traumatized but alas, you swallow it. “Alrighty then” he says smiling at you while he gathers up the plate and cup and walks out of your room. Leaving you there to think about what he said about the others.

Hizashi will never tell them that he was the reason behind the death of your mother. That will follow him to the grave. As much as he got in shota’s face for what he did to you, He himself did something just as dreadful. He feels like a hypocrite. Even though that woman deserved the worst, she didn't deserve death. No one does. He stands and thinks about that as he washes your dishes. Starting to regret what he did. He’s never killed anyone, honest. But she lit something up in him. He loved you too much for that. Love will make you do some crazy things won't it?

He headed towards the back of the house. There's a big room, a perfect room to make an ‘at home’ recording studio. So he’ll be able to do his third job at home to spend more time with you.

The boxes were already in there filled with everything that the studio needed, and that's how both of your days went. You spent it in bed while he was building his studio. After he finished building his studio, he took a step back and admired his work. Perfect.

The next thing on his ‘to do’ list is to fix the lock from the door you ran out of and put more security on the locks.

He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and took a few sips. “Shit might as well drill all the fucking doors shut.” he thought to himself as he threw his hands up exaggeratingly.

He was in the middle of fixing the lock on the door when he heard a knock at the front door. He dropped the tools and walked through the house while wiping his dirty hands on his pants before he opened the door. It was the doctor. One that hizashi is paying very well to keep his mouth shut about what he sees.

He greeted the doctor and let him in and started working on your ankles. Hizashi decided to go back downstairs and finish the door so he wouldn't hear your yells of pain.

Hizashi fixed the lock and then decided to put more security on the others. He was on his knees at the front door, playing with the lock. “AHEM” hizashi turns around and sees the doctor. “Oh, sorry.” He says as he gets up and opens the door to let him out. He turned around and said “everything is perfectly fine, but from the looks of it, don't let her walk for a few weeks.” hizashi nodded and sparked a 5 minute conversation with him while you laid in bed upstairs crying from everything that you went through and had to go through.

They both laughed and waved goodbye before he came back into the house. He then began walking upstairs to check on you. He opened the door and saw you laying down with tears in your eyes. “Hey what's the matter”? He asked. Oh as if he didnt know. “The doctor gave you cute casts and you're sad?” he said while rubbing them. This is the most frustrating thing ever.

You just ignored him and closed your eyes while he was assuming that the others pissed you off and he was the “good” guy.

“I want to go home,” Hizashi's head snapped up. “What”? You looked at him with rage in your face. “I. WANT. TO. GO. HOME!” He stood up and backed up.

“What, why? After all I do for you? We’re gonna live a good, long, happy life. We’re gonna get some pets, and make babies and have a big happy family here”

He’s honestly really delusional. You sat yourself up and yelled louder. “All you do for me? What did you possibly do to benefit me huh? Huh, Hizashi Yamada?” you screeched. He was losing his mind. He was pacing around the room. Just spiraling every second. You could see it on its face. It was almost enough to make you back down. He might be the softest, but he's the scariest, the most mentally ill. But you kept going. “IM GONNA KILL ALL OF YOU AND BURN YOUR DEAD BODIES AND RUN AW-” Before you could finish he snapped. Turning around and harshly pointing at you “YOU ARE HOME” his face red with rage. You jumped a little from the booming voice. He began to walk closer while still pointing. “YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME? ANYWHERE! THIS IS YOUR HOME NOW SO YOU BETTER FUCKING GET USED TO IT!” he said as he grabbed you harshly and yanked you out of bed. “HEY, HEY” you screamed as he dragged you through the house all the way down to the basement. “NO PLEASE” you screamed as he dragged you down the stairs and into the darkness of the basement. The only light is the open door. He threw you to the ground near a metal pipe and wrapped chains around you. “Please i'll be good, i'm so sorry”

All of your pleas fell on deaf ears as he tightened the chains and yanked on them to make sure that it was tight enough. He then stood up straight and began to walk out. “This is your home. Now think about what you’ve done.” and with that he slammed the door closed. Leaving you in complete cold darkness.

As much as you hate it, believe it or not, this….this is your life now.

#aizawa smut #yandere aizawa #mha #yandere all might #yandere erasermic #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead #all might x reader #yandere mha

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the-monkeies-girl · 3 months

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Blue eyes sounds so much like his father when he speaks, kinda scary

You guys did this to me YOU GUYS---- You knew it was a bad idea to have your back to the mouth of the nest you shared with Blue Eyes. He had told you on more than one occasion, using rather tedious signs that you weren't sure their meaning until he explained in more detail. You need to keep awareness at all times, especially given the precarious nature of your... Well human-ness in the Colony. Not a threat to many, but to enough that Blue Eyes liked to keep his head on a swivel and urged you to do the same. "(Name)." You didn't bother turning around as you placed another animal pelt, neatly folded, one of those small Human things that Blue Eyes found remarkably endearing otherwise he was just rolling into an unmade bed at night, which it would often end up that way regardless, but he takes it upon himself as a challenge to see how messed up it can get by morning time. That voice, such a delectation to your ears had to be Blue Eyes himself. He didn't speak often, but he had spoken enough to you in the heat of moments, passing fleeting times where you two managed to get each other alone. It was hard around the edges but swept into mild tenderness the longer you thought about, the more you heard. The spark of electricity shot down your spine as you smiled at the sound of your name. "I was waiting for you to come back. Guess what I'm not wearing."

The flirtatious notions hidden in your tone was incredibly underlying but detectable as Blue Eyes drifted towards you. In many moments of obliviousness, he finally did catch on here and there, taking in stride when you were being suggestive, flirty or downright dirty at times ( the latter is reserved for those moments that Blue Eyes is so entangled in his own self that you say something just to get a shock from him ). Twisting your body around, you expected to see your mate but instead came face to face with well... His Father. Astute green eyes locked onto your own, dancing a bit with the implications of your previous words before he dropped his glance to your lips and then off to fixate on a point of interest on the wall to the left. The heat eradicated your insides first to the point where it felt like you were going to throw up before it took its time slowly dancing along the bridge of your cheeks, upwards to the very tip of your ears. You needed to say something before this situation got a lot worse, before you were unable to come back from it. "C-Caesar." You tried to laugh but it was nothing more than a straggled cry of sorts. "G-Geez, Blue Eyes sounds just..." Caesar's eyes narrowed at your words, silent and introspective as always, "Just like you." Managing to stumble that out, you shuffled your feet a bit and scooted backwards until the back of your knees hit the very edge of the nest. "Where is he?" Ah, that's why he was here. He was on the prowl for his Son. Made sense, you thought to yourself and placed a hand on your cheek experimentally. Yup, still hot under your touch, finger tips lining along your cheekbone before you dropped your hand slowly, "He uh... Went fishing with Ash. He was supposed to be back soon---" "I gathered than from your... Lack of wearing something." You blinked, mouth drawing open to say something but nothing came out other than a small puff of air. If you didn't know any better, and had you not been with Blue Eyes, you would almost presume Caesar just... flirted.

"I-I'll let him know you need him when he gets back." Giving one last glance at you, head to toe, slower than you would have liked as he lingered on a few fixed points along the way, Caesar only nodded and turned to walk away.

#em answers #caesar #blue eyes #pota #planet of the apes #caesar x reader #blue eyes x reader #planet of the apes x reader

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wileys-russo · 11 months

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looks can be deceiving II a.russo x reader

you all asked, here's the answer. secretly soft biker gf (au) lessi looks can be decieving II a.russo x reader

"so where's your guard dog today then?" you playfully shoved your best friend with a roll of your eyes at the question as the two of you walked across campus toward the parking lot.

"at work i think, she was gone by the time i woke up." you shrugged, not having spoken very much to your girlfriend given she was far from the worlds best texter and you'd been in exams all day.

"and you're fine with just assuming that? you don't feel the need to like check in?" your best friend asked in disbelief. "well yeah? she told me she was working today, i believe her. it's called trust, maybe you've heard of it!" you teased, smacking her arm.

"i guess she doesn't really have any friends she could be hanging round with anyway." you pinched her for the comment as the girl whined and pushed you away. "don't be rude!" you warned seriously, not accepting anyone speaking badly of your girlfriend, even your best friend.

"i still can't believe you're with her." the girl beside you shook her head as you sent her a look. "and what's that supposed to mean?" you challenged, stopping in front of her with your arms crossed. "she's so...rough?" your best friend analysed with a grimace, unable to really find the words to describe the girl you were so head over heels for.

"you're judging her without knowing her, again." you sighed, the two of you resuming your walking, having just finished your final exam for the day. "because you won't let me meet her properly! you've been seeing her for like four months and i think i've heard her say about ten words?" your best friend chastised.

"she's just independent. and every time i invite you to hang out with us you get all weird about it and make her uncomfortable!" you warned, having admittedly been trying to get the two women to spend some time together with you but so far you'd had no success at all.

"i make her uncomfortable?? she makes me uncomfortable she looks at me like she wants to stab me!" your best friend huffed. "no she doesn't, she's really sweet. plus she treats me well and makes me very happy, isn't that enough for you as my best and most loyal friend?" you gave the girl beside you puppy dog eyes who groaned and pushed your head away.

"didn't she eat the head off a bat once for a dare?" the brunette beside you asked with a grimace, you scoffed at the question. though before you could answer a new voice rang out behind you.

"yeah, was a bit crunchy though. you want me to get you one to try?" you spun around at the familiar accent, your whole face lighting up at the sight of your girlfriend. "lessi!" you beamed, jumping on her as the taller girl easily caught you in her arms.

"alessia." your best friend deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest as the soft smile which made its way to your girlfriends lips at the sight of you quickly melted away and she placed you back down on your feet.

"layla." the girl replied in the same curt tone, wrapping her arms around you possessively from behind. "well this has been rivoting. get home safe with your personal grease monkey babe, call me later." your best friend smiled at you as alessia sent her a glare over the top of your head.

"i thought you had work baby?" you turned around in her hold, wrapping your arms around her neck and leaning up on your tippy toes to peck her lips. "mm i left early, perks of being the bosses daughter." alessia grinned, pecking your lips back a few times before attacking your face with kisses making you laugh.

"why? i thought you were doing that vintage chief you can't seem to stop talking about." you asked curiously, your girlfriend beaming with pride that you remembered.

"gio was getting on my last fucking nerve with it today. i had to start over twice because he kept sticking his fingers in thinking he knows better than i do, and then something falls off or apart and i'm back to square one." your girlfriend puffed air out of her nose with an annoyed grunt.

"m'sorry baby. but your dad knows you're the best though, why do you think he trusts you with all of the older engines that are more fragile? nobody can love them, care for them and bring them back to life like you can lessi baby." you reminded her softly, smiling as she pressed her face into your shoulder, likely to hide the blush you knew would be creeping down her neck at the praise.

"i hope you didn't bring your bike though. i am not getting on that death trap i already told you." you warned making the older girl roll her eyes and mock you under her breath.

"you're getting on it one day even if i have to tie you to the damn seat. but no, i have the car." alessia sighed dramatically, pulling away to take your hand as the two of you continued across the parking lot.

"god you look good in your uniform." you commented with a grin, eyes shamelessly roaming the grease stained coveralls clinging to her body, the girl working most days in her dads auto body garage working on what was her second love next to you, her beloved vintage motorcyles.

"little perv." alessia rolled her eyes and shoved your head playfully but your grin widened seeing the slight blush which coated her cheeks, as they did anytime you gave her even the slightest hint of a compliment. "after you." she was quick to open the passenger door for you, stealing a kiss as you slid in.

"such a gentlewoman." "only the very best for you baby girl."

"those are for you." your girlfriend nodded to a bunch of flowers sitting on her desk as she let the two of you into her apartment, closing the door and sitting down to take off her boots. "oh lessi." you melted, lips curling into an adoring smile.

"they're beautiful." you sent her a grateful look over your shoulder, moving to find something to put them in given you planned to spend the weekend here, and probably most of next week.

you had your own place, a sharehouse with two roommates, but if you were honest you stayed nights here much more than there, and that was just as alessia wanted it anyway.

her apartment was quintessentially just so her. the dark toned wood furniture, the worn in brown leather sofa draped in throw cushions and blankets that you knew she only bought once the two of you started dating to make it seem a little more 'homey'.

the olive green accents in her minimal decor choices which popped against the numerous amounts of house plants scattered around, the girl shockingly had a fantastic green thumb. then there was the countless amounts of books lining her walls, almost all classics like emily dickinson, bronte and sylvia plath.

then of course there was her baby.

the restored 1941 harley davidson which sat right in the middle of the apartment in place of a dining table, an odd sight to most but it was just so incredibly alessia for her to have it there you'd never minded.

her apartment was her safe space and her haven, littered with trinkets and engine parts and tools, but then there was the typewriter on her desk which sat right by the enormous floor to wall window which let in the most glorious sunlight in the early mornings and late evenings, the vintage cameras and the polaroids of you stuck to her fridge.

it was hers, and you felt privileged that she let you in to become a part of it.

"you're beautiful." suddenly you were turned around as you rummaged through her cupboards trying to find something to use as a makeshift vase, your body pinned to the counter as the taller girl loomed over you with a soft smile.

your hands reached up to tug her hair out which was half up in a bun, a dirty mix of black, brunette and blonde waves falling to frame her face as you tangled your fingers in the soft locks.

"you've done so well with your exams gorgeous. i'm really really proud of you, my smart intelligent wonderful girl." alessia praised with a soft smile, tenderly pulling you into a kiss as her mouth slotted perfectly with yours, her hands gently caressing your sides.

your head swam at the feeling of her kissing you. sometimes she could be rough and posessive and needy with the way she attacked your lips, but most times, like right now, she was soft and slow and tender, taking her time with you to show you how much each kiss really meant to her.

this was the alessia you fell head over heels for. the soft spoken, severely misunderstood sweetheart who wrote you poems and bought you flowers just because, who laid with her legs tangled with yours in the sunshine pouring in from her windows and read to you for hours with a voice like honey.

the girl who touched you so carefully and so lovingly as if you were made of glass and might break if she wasn't gentle enough. who taught you how to make homemade pasta and loved nothing more than to lay down with her head in your lap while you played with her hair, allowing her to let down the walls that she had built up and fortified around anyone else that wasn't you.

not the big tough tattooed biker girl with a smart mouth and a bad attitude who dropped out of school to fix engines, ride her harley and flit from party to party, never caught without a cigarette behind her ear, cocky smirk and a leather jacket on her shoulders.

granted though she was the biggest teddy bear most of the time, she did have her moments where she might live up a little more to her reputation.

if she'd had a bad day at work, maybe argued with one of her brothers over a part that was supposed to be ordered which never came which pushed back the whole job and she'd gotten the blame, then she had no issues treating you a little rougher, using you as a stress reliever in the most sinful ways for hours on end.

but then right after the walls would come crashing down again and she was back to kissing you like you could crumble at a moments notice, crawling into your arms seeking comfort and constant praise about how good she did, how much you loved her, how much you needed her and appreciated her.

"i'm gonna go take a shower." the girl hummed against your lips, pulling away and softly kissing your forehead, pushing her body off of yours. "yeah good, you smell." you teased, kicking her bum as she turned around, pulling yourself up onto the counter.

"you're lucky you're cute." alessia warned, smile tugging at her lips. "get your study in for awhile baby, i'm gonna wash my hair. and when i get back i get your full attention." the taller girl frowned with a slight pout which made you melt.

"someone's needy." you pouted back mockingly as she returned between your legs. "yeah and so what? i've missed you, been on my mind all day pretty girl." alessia confessed pressing her forehead against yours, pout deepening. "you're adorable." you grinned and booped her nose which scrunched up at the simple touch.

"tell anyone and i'll have to kill you." alessia warned, forming a gun with her fingers and pressing it to the side of your head, making a shooting noise with her mouth as she pulled the trigger, her forehead still pressed to yours.

the playful side she let out around you made you swoon, she wasn't like this even around her family and it brought you a sense of pride that you created a space where she was comfortable to be whoever she wanted.

"go study, book worm." with that she pulled away, blowing out and holstering her finger gun with a wink and retreating away.

"i'll say it again, god you look good in those dirty coveralls." you wolf whistled after her, throwing your head back with a laugh as she shook her bum at you with another wink before kicking her bathroom door closed with her foot.

"baaaby!" you heard your girlfriend yell out from her bedroom, glancing up from your textbook at the sudden noise. "yeah love?" you called back, scribbling down your notes as your glasses slid down your nose a little.

"can you come dry my hair for me, please?" you heard the hopeful tone in her voice and chuckled, flipping closed your textbook and standing up from her desk, padding over to her bedroom.

"thank you, i like it better when you do it." alessia admitted, stood in front of you with damp hair hanging down her back, her taller form clad only in a huge harley davidson shirt which hung down to her knees, heavily tattooed limbs on full display.

you perched yourself on the end of her bed as alessia settled down on the floor between your legs, arms resting on your knees as she handed you a brush, her hair dryer already plugged in and waiting beside her.

"have you got anymore booked in?" you asked, gently tracing the small butterfly behind her ear, the most recent in her ever growing collection of body art. "mm not yet, might finish off my moth first." she tapped to the half completed insect on her left knee.

"i wish you'd never bought that stupid gun." you mumbled disapprovingly as you brushed out the knots and tangles in her damp hair. "hey i'm getting really good now! you even said so the other day." her head craned back to look up at you, puckering her lips expectantly as you bent down to kiss her.

"that was before i looked up how common blood infections are with home done tattoos." you tutted as she faced forward again and you resumed your brushing. "i told you to stop googling anything that pops up in your mind babe, you're already a hypochondriac." the older girl chuckled, whining softly as you yanked on her hair for the comment.

"so no chance you'll let me give you one? so much clean skin to work with." alessia sighed longingly, tattooed hands squeezing your bare legs making you roll your eyes. "you've a better chance of getting me on that death trap of a bike." you teased, tapping her shoulders and holding out your hand as she passed you the dryer.

"no! its my time." alessia huffed as you tried to return to her desk once the two of you exited her bedroom, her now dry hair hanging down her back in waves. "baby i just have one more chapter to-" she cut you off with a kiss, closing your textbook and grabbing your hips, and before you knew it you were over her shoulder.

"alessia!" you laughed, reaching down to smack her bum as her shirt rode up. "oo this is new!" you whistled, pulling her shirt up further to reveal the black thong she had on underneath.

"hey you keep those hands to yourself!" the girl retaliating by smacking your own bum with her free hand before she dropped you down on the lounge. "oh wait here." she perked up, rushing off to her bedroom.

"put this on please." she held out a different shirt toward you. "why? i already changed baby." you frowned gesturing to the clothes you'd put on while she was showering. "that's mine, this is yours." your girlfriend replied, shaking the shirt impatiently in your face.

"so?" you pushed, knowing why she wanted you to change but wanting her to say it. "you know why, put it on and don't be a brat about it." alessia huffed with a roll of her eyes. "no, say it. you big ole softy!" you teased, kicking her as alessia dropped the shirt on your head.

"because its my favourite to sleep in and it doesn't smell like you anymore. happy?" the older girl mumbled as you tugged the material off your head with a satisfied grin. "very much so." you quickly changed, your girlfriend tossing the other shirt over her shoulder without a care making you roll your eyes.

"assume the position!" she shooed at you impatiently as you grabbed the tv remote, shuffling down to the end of the sofa with a smile, your girlfriend laying down with her head in your lap, her heavily tattooed legs occupying the rest of the sofa as her feet hung off the edge, which of course were clad in a pair of fuzzy black socks.

"what do you want to watch baby?" you asked pressing a kiss to her warm forehead, clicking into her netflix as your girlfriend shrugged. "anything you want gorgeous."

you browsed for a moment, alessia sighing loudly a few times to show she was becoming annoyed at the lack of attention you were showing her. pecking her lips a few times to hold her off you clicked into the proposal and placed the remote back down on the coffee table.

your girlfriend impatiently grabbed your hands and threaded them through her freshly washed hair making you chuckle. "are you going to sleep?" you laughed as you started to scratch at her scalp, watching her bright blue eyes close almost immediately. "no i'm just resting my eyes." the girl mumbled making you shake your head and press another tender kiss to her forehead.

within five minutes her breathing evened out and you glanced down with a soft smile, her ring covered fingers intertwined and resting on her stomach which slowly rose up and down as she slept.

your big scary guard dog girlfriend, the absolute sap she really was.

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso

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runningfrom2am · 1 year

Text

in this life or the next

summary: It's the seventy-fifth annual Hunger Games, and you were just unlucky enough to get picked; but lucky enough for this Quarter Quell to feature pre-selected teams. You get paired up with District One's pride and joy, the one and only Rafe Cameron.

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 15k (oh my LORD)

tags/warnings: its the hunger games so like... yeah... violence and gore and stuff. definitely swearing, spoilers for the og Hunger Games movie I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), reader has a special talent that i won't spoil here, Rafe is lowkey a dick at the beginning, Ward being a shitty dad (what's new). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. its 15k words and i'm lazy.

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a/n: hello lovelies!! oh my gosh i have been slowly chipping away at this for actual literal months, and i am so proud of how it turned out!! i’m really glad i could finally post it by my birthday!! (i’m 23 wtf??)

thank you so much if you're going to put in the time to read this, but it honestly means a lot to me that you've made it this far. reblogs and likes would be so appreciated and let me know your thoughts in the replies! i really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. let me know if you want a part two of what happens post games, bc i think i left it at a minor baby sized cliffhanger. anyway, i’m off to eat cake now! enjoy!

Staring blankly out at the crowd in front of you, you attempt to process the echoing of your heartbeat in your ears.

"I'd like us to give a round of applause for our brave, brave tributes this year, and wish them the best of luck in this year's quarter quell!" Your attention is drawn to the woman next to you, the District Five escort, Opal, dressed head to toe in bright yellow. A universally happy color- what a joke.

The crowd is mostly silent and you can't bear the thought of even glancing in the direction of your parents. You turn silently as you're ushered back into the building from the stage, tripping slightly over your feet as the shock sets in. People are talking, possibly to you, but you can hardly hear a thing. You almost made it. You were almost eighteen- one more year and you would have been free.

You were granted the briefest of goodbyes to your family, but you were tempted to even turn that down. An action you regret not taking as your parents walk into the room, your mother with tears already coating her cheeks and your father trying to keep a strong resolve for you and your siblings.

"We'll see you soon, Bug. Remember we love you," He whispers into your hair as you sob into his shoulder. You know he doesn't necessarily mean in this lifetime.

Your tunnel vision settles back in as you're walked out of the room, glancing one last time over your shoulder only to see your dad's shoulders shaking from his silent cries as he turns his back to you.

You are quickly pushed onto the train taking you out of District Five, ignoring the other three tributes and your mentors as they talk. You just stare out the window with tired, red eyes and say a silent goodbye to the home you're already sure you'll never see again.

"Y/N..?" The girl next to you says, tapping you on the shoulder and making you jump.

"Hm?" You hum your acknowledgment, looking at the girl beside you. She's only a year older than you, and you went to school together for years; Maisie, you remember.

"I just wanted to make sure you hear them," Maisie whispers, gesturing to Opal as she starts to explain what the premise of the games is this year.

"So," she claps her hands together, clad in tacky yellow gloves. "I'm sure you have noticed that this year there are four of you, and you'll each be paired up with another tribute to compete. Not necessarily from your own District, but, anything is possible, I suppose. The exciting news is that there's a possibility for two winners this year! You and your teammate will be given a score throughout the games, and if your score as the final two is above ten, you will both be crowned victors!" The woman says excitedly- like it's a good thing.

"And if we don't have over ten?" The boy sitting across from you asks flatly.

"Well... the games shall continue," Opal explains vaguely, but you know what that means. You've seen it before.

"Okay, well, how do we get a good score?" The boy asks.

"I-" The escort starts, hesitance clear in her tone as she's quickly interrupted.

"You kill people," Your female mentor answers. She's leaning her elbows on the end of the table, standing with a knife in her hand, spinning it around like it's some kind of toy.

Your eyes drop from her form, staring down at the table in front of you, suddenly remembering your glass of water and quickly grabbing it when you realize your mouth has gone completely dry just from the idea of what's to come.

You arrive at the Capitol in the middle of the night and despite this fact, the crowds are still there. You didn't expect this, even though you've seen it on the beat-up television in your living room every year. It feels less real, somehow, when you're the one getting pushed through the crowd, not knowing what to do besides give awkward smiles to people yelling your name.

Your room is beautiful. You've never seen anything like this, but you can fully customize it at will with a remote, and this level of technology fascinates you. You spend hours flicking through different images that can appear on the walls, surrounding you in another world. Exhaustion and the sound of an artificial thunderstorm put you to sleep with the remote still resting in your palm.

"Up, up, up, my dear! We've got a big day ahead!" Opal's cheery voice startles you awake from your less-than-cozy spot on the floor. "There's breakfast on the table then we've got to get you down to prep, so hurry up, please." She says, and just like that she's gone, no doubt off to wake the other District Five tributes in a similar fashion.

"You're going to be meeting your teammates for the first time today so you can train together- gosh isn't that just so exciting!" Opal claps as you all stand in the elevator. There's a silence that follows as you and Maisie just nod, not excited about the whole idea. You're about to meet someone who will either be spending the last days of your life with you, or be killing you themselves, and you're not fond of either.

"This way you'll get to train together first, which I do believe to be a very generous act on behalf of the game makers." She adds, making you roll your eyes. How considerate. The most you can hope for is someone who is capable, and preferably someone who isn't in the twelve to fifteen age range, having seen that there were several drawn from different districts.

You shift on your feet as you try to adjust to the uncomfortably tight catsuit they squeezed you into, covered in what must be sapphire and diamond rhinestones, pinching your skin with every slight movement. Gold accents line the seams of the suit, extending out into something that resembles wings and lightning bolts protruding from your back. District Five; power. You get it, but we're the diamonds necessary? You hardly take note of the varying outfits you're surrounded with from the other kids in your district, before Opal is guiding the four of you up the line of extravagant carriages you're meant to parade out on for the people of the Capitol to fawn over.

You take note of where all of the other tributes from Five are lead, guessing based on the order of carriages that Maisie got paired up with another girl from Eleven, and the boys somehow ended up paired together. There must be some sort of personal aspect to this decision, considering you have watched those two boys fight back home. You're last, and Opal looks at you excitedly as you follow her up, and up, and up- to the very front of the line.

"Surprise!" She grins, clapping excitedly as you approach the very first carriage. "Y/N, getting paired with a career is huge. Your odds are good already, your partner has trained his whole life- he even volunteered."

"Sucks for him." You mutter under your breath as you get closer, eyeing up the boy in front of you, wearing an almost matching outfit. All the rhinestones make sense now, blending power with luxury could only mean as much.

"Y/N Y/L/N, meet Rafe Cameron. He'll be your teammate in the games." She smiles as she introduces you.

"Hi." You say quietly, taking his hand as he holds it out to you to help you up onto the carriage.

"Hey." He mutters, avoiding your gaze. It's off to a rough start for him for sure, seeing he's being paired up with someone from an outlying district must be daunting, when for you it should be exciting. Rafe did volunteer, yes, but he doesn't want to risk any kind of attachment- despite what the people of the Capitol want for their entertainment. He wants to come out alive, he doesn't care so much about who he's with.

"Okay, Y/N, remember to smile, please." Opal reminds you and you nod, looking down at her as you hold onto the handle in front of you.

You promise her with a nod, willing to do almost anything at this point to win the favour of possible sponsors. Again, your odds look better next to a career on that front, as well.

Quickly everyone is cleared away from the horses and the carriages and you start moving, catching you off guard and you stumble a little, readjusting your grip on the railing. "Careful." Rafe says beside you, quick to reach out to steady you if you needed it. You think you see the smallest of smiles on his face, but that must have just been your own mind trying to find comfort in anything around you.

"I got it." You whisper, blushing slightly. You've been with your teammate for all of a minute, and you're already proving yourself to be clumsy.

The lights hit your eyes the same time all the cheering does, being the first carriage, it's already so loud you can hardly hear yourself think. You snap out of it quickly, plastering on a smile once you see your own face on a giant screen ahead of you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. Your eyes land on the screen adjacent to the one showing you, seeing Rafe as well. He's smiling too, clearly having headed Opal's advice, or his many years of training is getting to him and he's excited. You really don't know. Then his head turns, and you turn your head as well, making dead eye contact with him for only a moment before he's looking past you into the crowds, taking in the moment.

When you finally get out of the extremely public eye and back into the building you exited from, you feel like you can finally breathe again. Not fully, in the tight, rigid suit they had you dressed up in, but more than you realized you were with all that yelling in your ears and lights in your face.

"District Five, right?" Rafe asks you as you're both stepping down and you nod. "Jeez, you don't talk much, do you?" He follows up with, taking a water bottle from someone who's walking by with them.

"I talk." You reply quietly. "Just... not much to talk about at the moment."

"The shock? Yeah, that'll do it." He nods, taking a sip from the water bottle and holding it out to you. You shake your head and push it away, making him shrug. "Shitty bust when you're not a volunteer."

You just stare at him, taken off guard by the comment. "That being said..." He leans in closer to make sure no one else hears. "I've been waiting my whole life for this, so don't ruin it for me, yeah?"

You pull back away from him and just nod again, not wanting to get on his bad side already. He won't be the one to kill you, probably, but it would still be nice if you spent your final days without your teammate hating your guts. "Thanks, darling." He smirks, patting your shoulder and brushing past you to go to the elevators.

The next day, bright and early yet again, you have your first day of training. You're sure Rafe won't even need it, but you certainly will. Your mentor told you he will likely be using it to size up the other tributes, especially considering there is a staggering amount of them this year, and you will need to focus on survival skills. Only survival skills, if you had to pick one thing- and your mentor drove that into your head until it was all that was echoing in your mind when you entered the training center.

After the trainers speech which ironically tried to do the same thing, you beeline straight for the fire making station. You're shocked to see almost no one else listened, definitely none of the boys, mostly lining up to show off their physical strengths, likely to try and intimidate each other. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't working.

You look up as you hear echoing laughter coming from the other side of the room, eyes scanning over the wall lined with silhouette targets, and racks with an array of weapons before landing on your teammate, laughing away with the other career tributes over a joke you didn't hear. He's got a spear in one hand, leaning his weight on it as his head drops back with laughter. You shake your head to get back on task, rolling the rough wood in your palms in hopes of making a spark. Good to see at least one of you is having fun, especially in your final days.

After a few minutes you get it, sitting back into your calves where you were kneeling on the ground, taking a breath of relief as you're satisfied with your success. You glance around to see how others are doing, giving a small smile and wave to Maisie when you see her, reading a book about different edible plants and trying desperately to memorize every image. You watch as Rafe takes the same spear he was leaning on before, hurling towards one of the targets. A direct hit, right in the chest, slightly right of the centre. You jump a little at the sound it makes on impact, looking finally at the boy who threw it.

He's pacing, huffing and looking a little frustrated with himself. A little to the left would have been perfect, but it was a kill shot nonetheless. There would be no coming back from that, and you count yourself lucky that it likely won't be you in place of the target in the games.

You quickly put out your fire and try again, making sure you've got the hang of it. You'll sit here all day if you must. After three more successful attempts, you're satisfied for the day, deciding you'll return to that station tomorrow and try again. You get up and brush the dirt off your knees, trekking over to where they have supplies to make game traps. You've never done this before, but there's no better time to learn, especially since your teammate has shown no interest in survival skills so far today.

"What are you doing?" Suddenly Rafe is standing behind you, as you're once again kneeling on the ground attempting to get the trigger on your bladeless trap to work.

You jump a little, startled by someone talking to you. "Uh, trying to make a snare, I think." You answer, turning to look up at him.

"Looks good." He nods, crouching down next to you. "Uh, isn't there supposed to be a blade or a spearhead or something on that piece?" He says, pointing to it.

"Well, yeah, I just didn't want to stab myself by accident." You laugh slightly, trying the trigger again- and this time it works, snapping forward into his arm.

"Ouch, yeah, fair enough." Rafe chuckles, rubbing the spot on his arm where the wood made contact.

You just nod and begin to reset it to test it again. "What if you can't get any of this shit in the arena?" He asks.

"What, a stick?" You ask, hitting the trigger one more time, sending the stick into his arm again, which he had decided not to move.

"Ow! Yes, a stick. We don't know what it will look like." He rubs his arm, examining the trap you built closer now.

"Then we're screwed I guess." You joke, leaning back on your calves again, watching him dissect it piece by piece to figure out how it works.

"So, is this like, your thing?" Rafe asks, and you tilt your head at him as you think it over.

"My thing?" You ask, unsure entirely what he meant. "I've never made one before, if that's what you're asking."

"Really?" He seems shocked by this.

"Uh, yeah, really. Unfortunately for you, you got paired up with someone who has zero survival or combat skills."

Rafe looks at you, a smug grin crossing his features. "Ha ha, very funny." He clearly thinks you're joking, but you're definitely not.

"I'm serious." You say, confused as to why he doesn't believe you.

His smile falters, replaced with wrinkles of confusion on his forehead. "But- I just watched you look at the instruction book for no more than like, three seconds before sitting down to make this."

"And..?"

"If you've never done it before it's supposed to be harder than that."

"Well, I've seen other people do it on TV and stuff every year for like, ever." You shrug. "I've just got a good memory, I guess."

Rafe nods, looking at the deconstructed trap in front of him for a moment, thinking about the implications of this. How far does this go? Could he use it? He'd never dreamt of having to work in a team in his games, but maybe it would benefit him after all. "Come with me." He stands up, and you follow as he paces over to two big screens, covered with a large array of different symbols.

"Try this, I just want to see something." Rafe says, standing next to you with his arms crossed as you quickly look over the screen, reaching down toward the one in front of you. You notice quickly that the screens mirror each other, all the images placed in the same spots as they are above. You look up at your teammate briefly who nods at you and then you tap one, watching it disappear from both screens before you tap the matching symbol. It's a matching game.

Your eyes are locked on the top screen as you tap away at the bottom one, quickly making all the images disappear one by one. It takes you no more than a minute to get rid of them all, and then a timer appears on the screen replaying your every move in real-time. Forty-two seconds. Were you really going that fast?

"Neat." Rafe says to himself, nodding as he watches it replay on the screen. That was impressive, sure, but his mind is straining to find a practical implication for this in the arena. "Go back to survival stuff. Learn as much as you can." He settles on, turning and walking off back to where he was before, returning to combat training.

The four days of training fly by insanely fast, and that's likely due to your dread of what's to come. you've got through everything in survival no less than three times, and you're pretty sure last night you dreamt of plants and making a fire. Not surprisingly, Rafe has left you pretty much alone the whole time, but you did watch from a distance as he cycled through every weapon the training center had to offer, proving he's almost mastered every last one. Of course, with over ten years of training, anything less wouldn't make sense. What scares you is the other careers showing a similar skill level to that of your teammate, but he seems to be on good terms with them. Again, maybe this would be a good thing in the beginning of the games.

You sit down for your last day of making fires and fishing hooks, working solely on memory since day one, you're feeling pretty confident that the elements or exposure won't be what takes you out- but you don't know if that's a good thing or not. You just hope your death will be quick.

"Y/N, c'mere." Rafe is suddenly calling to you, motioning for you to join him in the combat area. Not seeing much of a choice, and not looking forward to another day of doing the same thing over and over, you listen.

You make your way over, avoiding the gaze of other tributes who are looking at you like you're about to make a fool of yourself. It's possible you are. "I want you to learn how to use this." He says as you walk up, holding out the handle of a knife to you.

You take it, turning the sharp blade over in your hand. "I thought you were the weapons master." You joke, looking up at him briefly.

"Well, I need you to make fires and shit so you have to stay alive somehow, and if we get separated or something I need to know you can at least defend yourself. These are good from a distance and up close, but remember that any weapon you have they can take and use against you. So keep distance whenever you can." He answers, pointing over to the target about fifteen feet away. "So, throw it."

You look over to where he was pointing, adjusting your grip on the handle as you nod, taking in the information he's dumping on you. He is probably right, especially since you don't think he plans on protecting you himself. Why would he? If you die, he can still win without you.

You lift your arm over your shoulder, closing one eye to narrow down your aim before throwing it hard towards the target, which the knife bounces off of and clatters to the ground. You and Rafe both turn at the same time to look at the group that's laughing at you, the clang of the metal on the cement echoing loudly in the vast space.

"Don't worry about them. They're not there." Rafe is quick to grab another one, handing it to you the same way. "Try again, this time, hold it like this..." He says, grabbing your hand and placing your fingers in the correct spots on the handle. "Keep your wrist tense and straight, don't flick it or anything. Yeah, like that." He nods, taking a step back.

You look over how you're holding it, committing the feeling and finger placement to memory before raising your arm again. You throw it again, and this time it sticks, but your aim is off and it ends up in the target's leg. You look over at Rafe, unsure if you're hoping for approval or just satisfaction. "That's perfect." He nods. "Not a death blow, but that'll buy you time to get away. which is all you need."

"Okay." You agree quietly.

"Would it help if you watched me?" He offered, already grabbing a new knife while you nod. "So, you want to follow through with the throw, your shoulders should end about here if you're doing it right. You get more power that way, and better aim." He explains, standing with one foot forward, parallel to the target.

You step back to watch his strategy, noting the way he held the blade and his form when he aimed to throw it. He lets it fly from his fingers as his shoulders fall forward, smirking to himself as it hits the bullseye circle, right in the chest.

"You got it?" He asks, standing up straight again. You nod in response and he's handing you yet another knife to try again.

You go back and forth for hours, not caring that you're keeping anyone else from practicing. You're not the best at it, but it's become muscle memory now, and every time it sticks, most of the time hitting the silhouette somewhere. You tried the moving targets briefly, the gold, pixelated figures running at you quickly. You were immediately overwhelmed, and Rafe ended up having to step in to help. He said after that the minimal skill you had would be good enough to get away, and that is all you would need. You just have to focus on that.

You didn't talk a lot, besides taking a few short breaks to gather the knives and his arrows as Rafe explained the pros and cons of every weapon they had present, showing you briefly how to use some of them. Mostly how to defend yourself against them. It's hard for him to sum up years of training in one day, but he's dead set on the idea that you won't need most of it- just having to focus on keeping the two of you sheltered and fed, he can handle the rest; hopefully.

You sit outside the training center next to Rafe, waiting for your name to be called. It was the youngest female tribute from his district first, so if you had to guess, you would be third and fourth to go, which doesn't buy you a lot of time to decide what to do to best show your skills.

"What are you gonna do?" You ask, whispering in the deathly quiet room.

"Huh?" Rafe hums, leaning closer to hear you better.

You clear your throat, before speaking this time, unsure if you were clear enough. "What are you gonna do? Like which skill?" You clarify.

"Oh, uh..." He mutters, adjusting how he's sitting as he thinks about what to say. "I'm just going to cycle through some different weapons, different distance targets, I think. My mentors want me to show like, a variety of what I can do."

You nod at this, making a mental note of that. Maybe you should do the matching game and then try the knives. Opal told you that you would be scored both individually, and as a team. You hope you won't bring down his score too much, since you know he's aiming high. You planned on going for a mid-level score, not to be seen as a threat but also not as an easy kill. A perfect six would be your ideal score. "What about you?" Rafe interrupts your thought process.

"I'm not sure." You answer honestly.

"You should do your survival stuff. That will improve our team score, if we show them we have strengths at both." Rafe suggests. That's not actually a bad idea. Your individual score will likely be lower, but that's a risk you're willing to take.

"Yeah, I'll do that."

You ended up scoring a six, the judges obviously not seeing you as any kind of threat. This is what you expected, though, and you were correct about your group score as well. Rafe and you together scored a ten. On his own, he scored a ten, so you hadn't affected it in the way you feared. This left you reeling over the idea of other tributes seeing you both as a threat as you stand in yet another extravagant dress, waiting in line to be called out for your interview. The games were tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted was to get in front of a crowd and subtly plead with them to let you live, to send you gifts, and to give you their sympathy.

So far it's been in the same order they called everyone for assessments yesterday, which means you would be next. Rafe stands behind you, arms crossed in a suit that looks more expensive than any you've seen back home in all of your life, but he looks comfortable in it. Your dress is once again covered in rhinestones, and your waist is cinched in so tight you can hardly breathe as it is, so you're not looking forward to going on stage.

"Our next tribute, welcome to the stage from District Five, Miss Y/N Y/L/N!" You hear the familiar voice of Caesar Flickerman calling you out and some guards usher you forward onto the stage, very briefly glancing over your shoulder at Rafe.

You're quick to smile as you turn back around, giving a small wave to the host and then out to the audience as they cheer for you. For a brief moment, you feel as if they don't plan on watching you die as early as tomorrow, you feel as if they're rooting for you. "Hi!" You say as you get closer and Caesar stands up to greet you, shaking your hand and giving you a quick hug before gesturing for you to sit down across from him.

You look around the large theatre, spotting every camera you can. Your family is out there watching, somewhere, and you know they'll see right through this show you have to put on. You wish they wouldn't. You can picture so vividly your living room back home, with your parents and siblings scattered across the couch and the floor watching you with bated breath, they can see you- and on some level, you can see them too.

"Miss Y/L/N. Thank you for being here." Caesar sighs, reaching out and patting your hand where it sits on the armrest next to you.

"Well, I didn't have any other plans for the night, so..." You shrug, making him laugh. Laughter echoes from the audience and you smile, hoping that your plan to win people over is working.

"What? A beautiful girl like you?" He asks after he's done laughing. "You weren't planning on spending some of your free time with your teammate?" As if you got even a minute of free time since you've been here.

"Well, I guess we'll never know." You chuckle, looking back at the boy where he stands in the wing, giving you a small smile.

"Now listen, Y/N, Rafe is..." He has to stop after mentioning his name as cheers erupt again, laughing as he waits for the audience to quiet down. "Your teammate is, as you may have guessed, a popular face in the Capitol right now. Are you feeling lucky about your pairing?"

Rafe crossed his arms as he watches intently, feeling smug about his odds, especially now knowing the Capitol's opinion of him. He knows his dad is back home watching, full of pride that his son has become a fan favourite.

"I am." You answer honestly. "He's very talented."

"And handsome, don't you think?"

"I mean, who am I to argue with the people?" You joke, waving your hand dismissively as you hear the cheers pick up again. "Besides, his looks won't save us. We will save ourselves." You add seriously.

Caesar nods in acknowledgment, showing that to an extent, he agrees with you. "Well, I hope that you are right, dear." He smiles, getting up to signal you've run out of time. You stand as well, taking his hand as he holds it up above your heads. "It was so lovely to meet you, and may the odds stay ever in your favor. Y/N Y/L/N, everyone!"

You smile and thank him quietly, waving to everyone with both hands as you walk across the stage to exit on the other side. You take a few deep breaths as you step into yet another waiting room, watching the screen as Rafe is called out right behind you.

Rafe sits down on the chair across from Caesar after his introduction, which allows a few moments for the audience to quiet down. He smiles proudly as he rests one of his feet on his other knee, bouncing his leg with anxiety. He hopes it's interpreted as excitement. "Rafe." Caesar smiles at him, sitting back down as well. "I'll be honest, I have been so excited to finally meet you."

"It's good to meet you too." Rafe grins, chuckling slightly at the few whistles he gets scattered from the crowd.

"You got a fabulous score, how are you feeling about that?"

"Really good, yeah. Obviously I've been waiting my whole life for this opportunity, so it feels amazing to see it all paying off." Rafe answers, focussing on keeping the confidence in his tone.

"We can tell, can't we?" Caesar laughs, riling up the audience again, making Rafe laugh to himself as he softly shakes his head. "Yeah, yeah. So, with all this planning you've been doing, how do you feel about getting paired up? You probably expected to be going in solo."

"I did, for sure, but I don't think this is a bad thing." Rafe admits.

"Oh, getting along well with your teammate?" Caesar asks, a hint of suggestion in his tone.

"Yeah, we get on really well." Rafe exaggerates your relationship a bit, knowing it will earn you more sponsors, and maybe keep other tributes away from you in the games. "At least I think we do, I'm not fully sure about her thoughts on me, though."

"You scored incredibly well together, despite Y/N having a fairly average score on her own. What are your thoughts and feelings on that?"

Rafe chuckles as he leans forward a bit, pointing out to the audience as he speaks. "Don't underestimate her based on the score. I won't give you any spoilers, but trust me, don't overlook her. She's got as good a shot as any of us. Maybe better."

Caesar makes a surprised expression as he nods. "Well okay! Does she have some sort of secret weapon we should be worried about?" He chuckles, gripping the armrests and looking around as the audience laughs.

Rafe just shrugs in response, smirking slightly, which you can tell the audience just eats up. You're trying to decide if this is good or bad for you, though, as you watch, gnawing at your nails in anticipation as you stare at the screen.

"Okay, alright, don't spoil anything then." Caesar laughs. "It'll make for a better show, and I can get behind that."

After a moment of waiting for the cheers to die down, Caesar speaks up again. "Rafe, if I can ask, I know your father has a lot of influence in your district- how is he feeling about your selection for the games?"

You furrow your brow a little bit as you look at the screen, finally learning something interesting about your teammate. If he's from a prominent family in District One of all places, that would certainly explain his attitude. Rafe, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about his father at all- but of course they would bring him up.

"Yeah, of course." Rafe replies, shifting in his seat. "He's thrilled, it's a huge honour to be here, and to be the first out of his children to be chosen is really special to me. I just hope I can make him and my sisters proud, he's always encouraged us to volunteer."

"I'm sure that you will." Caesar smiles at him. "I hope I will have the honour of hosting one of your sisters on this stage one day, as well."

Your stomach churns just watching this. How can any father who loves his children want this fate for them? This was your father's worst nightmare. You watch as Rafe nods with a smile, and you can see behind his eyes that he doesn't want that, not at all.

The audience cheers as they both stand up, shaking hands before Rafe leaves the stage, a cocky smirk on his face as he waves and winks at the audience. Before Rafe makes it down to the waiting room, you're grabbed an escorted out, heading for the elevator back to your room.

You can't eat, but you know you should. This will likely be your last meal for a while. You decide on just taking a large bowl of fruit and toast to your room, trying to get it down slowly with all the nerves, while you have a bath. Your parents never let you eat in the bath. It's hard to get out knowing this is likely the last bath you'll ever have.

The morning goes by in a blur, you feel Opal's arms around you as she hugs you goodbye and wishes you luck. You know you'll need all of it. You stare down at the ground in front of you as you're pushed onto a plane, of sorts, along with all the other tributes. Once you're sat down, you look around at everyone else. You remember all of their names as you scan over their faces, but you wish you didn't. You get stuck on one of the girls from District Eleven, Hope, who was only thirteen.

She's shaking, and you can see that from where you're sat down the row from her. She reminds you of Rue, the tribute from last year. Her death was a tragedy, it broke the hearts of everyone outside of the Capitol and the career districts. Hope's curly hair sat in a bun on top of her head, and tears fell down her cheeks as she sniffled. She got paired up with a girl from Twelve- the lengths the Capitol will go to to make a mockery of last years games will never cease to amaze you.

"Hey, you look a little pale." Rafe whispers, leaning close to you. You didn't even notice him sit down on the other side of you.

You shake your head slightly, looking down at your knees. "I'm fine."

"Don't think about it." Rafe instructs you, holding his arm out for the tracker to be injected as a guard approaches with the device.

You wince as you hear it get shot into his arm and he chuckles, shaking his arm off to ease the sting. You raise your shaking arm as they hold their hand out expectantly to you. You don't know what it is they're putting in you, but you've never been fond of needles. This is a million times worse. "It's not that bad," Rafe tells you, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel pressure on your forearm, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain. You bite your tongue to keep from making a sound, dropping your arm onto your lap as they quickly walk away.

"What did they do?" You ask him, trying to keep a steady tone.

"It's a tracker, so they know where we are in the arena." He explains quietly. You were the only two talking, and you notice it's earning you glares from several other tributes. Rafe notices this as well, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms, taking this time to size everyone up.

The plane takes off, and before you know it, you're landing at the arena on the outskirts of Capitol property. You wonder if you're close to the ocean, not that you'll get to see it anyways.

You're paraded off of the plane, still trying not to let it show how afraid you are of what's to come. You make the briefest of eye contact with Maisie as she's pulled towards a different hallway, and neither of you have it in you to smile anymore.

"We've gotta get supplies, that's our first move." Rafe says to you as you're led out of earshot of other tributes, into your own hall.

"My mentor said to run." You reply quietly.

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head. "Your what, one mentor said that? Cool. I have fifteen that are still alive and well enough to show up every year. I think we should get supplies." He tells you firmly, but you know that will get you instantly killed, maybe not him, but you stand no shot. "Just stick with me if you want to live."

You just nod a little bit, glancing at him again briefly before you're directed into a separate room across the hall from him. His pedestal will be next to yours, which is a bit of a relief. Your stylist quickly instructs you to strip, and then she helps you into the uniform you assume you'll all be wearing. It's exactly the same as last year, you notice this quickly, but with a '75' logo embroidered on the chest where the District Twelve tribute had her pin placed. Katniss, you remember her name was. She had volunteered for her sister, and at the time you contemplated heavily on whether or not you would do the same. She was so, so close to winning- to getting to see her sister again, but she and the boy from her district, the final two tributes, ended up committing together rather than giving the Capitol their Victor. It was an admirable stance, but you couldn't imagine what that was like for her family, and his.

You step off the concrete floor once you're dressed, instructed to get into the pod that will lift you up into the arena; a glass elevator. Your stylist says nothing to you as they walk out of the room, the glass door sliding shut in front of you. Your knees get weak as you realize you are totally, completely alone, and likely no more than twenty minutes from dying. You think of your family, your siblings, your dad- and the last words he said to you. You'll see him soon.

Your thoughts are halted when the elevator starts to move, lifting you up as the ceiling falls away and you can see sunlight coming through. You squint and shield your eyes as you try to look up to get a better grasp on your surroundings before you can even see anything. Once trees come into view you're frantically looking around, trying to process as much information as you can, and quickly. It's exactly the same as last year, but from what you can tell, flipped in reverse, and made larger to accommodate twice as many tributes. Or everything on camera last year was flipped. There's a silver cornucopia in the middle with the timer that's immediately counting down and supplies inside and scattered around the field in front of you. Rafe is to your right, and a boy from Seven on your left. He scored a six, the same as you, so he's not the biggest threat to you immediately.

You adjust your stance, getting ready to run once the timer hits zero. In what direction, you don't know yet. Rafe wants you to run to the supplies, but statistically, the most deaths will happen in the next five minutes and you don't want any part of that. The supply bags and weapons spread out on the grass are all the same too, by the looks of it. The closest bag to you got picked up by the girl from Seven last year, and it didn't have much of anything helpful. If you're remembering right, it had a rope and some matches, and that was it. It definitely would be useful, but you know you can do better. There should be a bag four pedestals to your right, with a water bottle, an emergency blanket, a fire starter, a first aid kit, and a knife. Right now, that's the one you have to get to. That's your best bet.

Ten, nine, eight... The timer ticks down to the final seconds as you look over at Rafe, who's already looking at you. You point to the bag as your eyes land on it on the other side of him across the field, and he looks at you confused. He's closer, he has a better shot, but you know he won't take it.

Rafe is confused, following your finger and spotting the bag. Why would you want that one specifically? There are others closer, he doesn't feel like now is a time to be picky.

Four, three, two...

Your ears ring with shock as the clock reaches zero, and you're watching most of the other tributes booking it for the center. No one has seen your bag yet as you jump down, beelining across the field and narrowly brushing past Rafe in your move for the small backpack. He stops to let you pass, almost crashing into you head-on. He doesn't have time to worry about you, so he continues on his path to the middle, but he's lost time. Precious time that he doesn't have to lose right at the beginning of the games.

He gets into the bloodbath that the cornucopia has already turned into, looking back over his shoulder quickly as he grabs at any weapon he can get his hands on. He quickly has to sacrifice the blade he just grabbed when he hears footsteps quickly approaching from behind him, turning quickly and plunging it into the boy's chest. He doesn't think to look at who it was.

Cannon's echo around you, and you're counting how many internally as you get to the bag, reaching down to grab it as you run past, trying not to slow down. You look back over your shoulder, hoping to spot your teammate somewhere, but you can't see him. You're scanning the area, blocking out the blood you see flying and scattered along the silver metal of the cornucopia. You can hardly hear any screams over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You can't help but watch as the girl from Three jumps on who is supposed to be her partner, a girl from Twelve, snapping her neck in a second. Within moments, she just drops to the ground next to her- another cannon following. That makes a strong incentive for working in teams. At least Rafe won't betray you early on.

You freeze up for a moment, stopping to scan your surroundings. You still can't find Rafe, taking in the number of bodies scattered around the cornucopia and a few tributes running into the tree line. At least some people were smart. Something flies past your head, making you jump back a step as you look up ahead of you. Within an instant, you're being tackled back by the body of the boy from your district.

"Y/N, fancy seeing you here." He chuckles darkly while you try and fight him off.

"Don't!" You squeak out, him pressing his forearm down against your throat on the ground.

"I've wanted to do this since the second they called your name." He growls, shoving you down again.

"We can help each other, Jack..." You say weakly, clawing at his arm.

"You don't need me. You've got your career boyfriend- and whatever your secret weapon is." He scoffs. "You don't have a secret weapon, Y/N. He's bluffing and he won't convince us."

You gather all your strength and knee him in the crotch, scrambling to get away as he fumbles for just a moment. "God- you are a bitch!" He shouts, grabbing for your ankle just has you pick up the knife he had thrown at you. You grip it the way Rafe had shown you, quickly shoving it into Jack's leg. You just needed to get away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You exclaim, backing away quickly. Jack doesn't say another word, cutting his losses and getting up to make an escape for the woods. You hope he ends up okay.

You make your break for it as well, running back towards the woods as you once again scan your surroundings for your partner.

Suddenly you're on the ground, having run straight into the side of one of the pedestals and falling over it. You yelp with the sudden impact of the ground, scrambling to get up and continue when suddenly someone is grabbing your jacket, slamming you into the pedestal again. You scream, trying to shove them off, but they're much stronger than you. "Jael! Wait, wait- Jael!" You make out your own voice yelling the boy's name, which makes him falter. He's the oldest tribute from Eight- he seems shocked you even know his name.

In the moment when he loosened his grip, he jerks forward and then falls over you, a cannon booming making you gasp as you panic to get away. Rafe is quickly running towards you, slinging the bow he just used over his shoulder and yanking the arrow out of the boy's back. "Y/N, let's go!" He shouts, motioning for you to follow him as you continue toward the tree line, both of you keeping an eye on what's happening behind you as you disappear into the woods.

"Let's stay close, but not too close," Rafe suggests as soon as you feel safe enough to slow down, your chest heaving with the exertion of energy and boost of adrenaline. He glances at you briefly, then does a double take. "You okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, coughing to ease the stinging in your throat. "I'm fine. You?"

"Good," Rafe answers, slowing his pace to match yours.

"We, uh, I think we should go the other way." You say, looking around to try and mentally place where abouts you are.

Rafe stops and furrows his brow at you, seemingly frustrated by your resistance. "Why does it matter?"

"The arena, it's the same as last year. Exactly the same. Just, scaled up a bit." You explain. "We should head south, that's where the river is. We'll need water soon."

Rafe laughs slightly, his demeanor changing as he places his hands on his hips and looks at you. "No shit," He says, truly surprised and impressed that you could tell. A lot of the games tend to look like this, and he would never notice a repeat arena down to the rivers if it punched him in the face. Your 'secret weapon' is already paying off. "And you could tell that right away?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess so. The bags were all the same, everything was laid out the same. I bet there's a river down south." You nod, having a sudden realization. "We should get to that cave- the one the tributes from Twelve holed up in last year. That'll be a good, stable shelter. We can pretty much wait it out." You say, starting to walk in what you believe is the right direction.

"No," Rafe replies, making you stop in your tracks. "Unless you want me to have to kill you in the end."

"Oh, right." You forgot about that part, keeping score. "We're still going to need somewhere to sleep, though."

"Yeah, we'll find it anyways." Rafe nods, carrying on in the direction you started heading. You follow a few steps behind, keeping a bit of distance in the somewhat awkward silence that fell over you two after his comment about having to kill you.

You walk in the thick of the woods for about an hour before you feel like you're reaching the river. You can feel it under your feet, the soil is slightly softer, and the trees a little more green.

Cannons interrupt your thoughts a few times in the hike, totaling up to twenty-three by the time you reach the riverbank. "You were right." Rafe chuckles, mentally disparaging any skepticism he faced during the long, quiet walk.

"Thank god." You giggle, dropping your bag and crouching down to dig through it, hoping for a water bottle. You were right, everything you expected was accounted for.

"Why that bag?" Rafe says, already sitting down on the rocky water's edge to rest for a moment.

"Huh?" You question, unsure you heard over the shuffling of the bag while you zip it up.

"You pointed to it, during the countdown. Why did you want that one?"

"Oh, uh, like I said they all looked the same as last year, and I hoped I remembered what was inside." You say, laying down to reach into the water and fill up the bottle.

"Were you right?"

You nod with a small smile, sitting back up and holding the bottle out to him as you cross your legs.

"That's actually insane." Rafe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes it, downing just about everything in it before handing it back.

You take it and refill it again for yourself. "I'll choose to take that as a compliment."

Rafe wouldn't admit it, but at this moment as he's watching you drink, he's grateful that he got paired up with you. But now, that it's been shown on national television that you know the arena in and out, he wonders what obstacles the gamemakers will desperately throw your way.

"We should keep moving. I feel like a sitting duck out here in the open, I don't like it." Rafe mutters, checking his attitude as he stands up. You're quick to fill up the bottle again, following behind him yet again as the arrows in his quiver rattle together against his back walking over the rocky and unstable terrain, knife gripped tightly in his hand.

You wonder to yourself how he's feeling about leaving behind his predestined alliance of the career pack, but with the factor of most of them being paired up with other districts, it was already too unpredictable. You wouldn't have stuck around either.

The sun started to set as you followed the river upstream. You didn't want to settle without some kind of shelter, and you were committed to finding that cave before you could relax. You could tell that Rafe had the same idea, his steps ahead of you gradually picking up speed with the bow still gripped firmly in his palm.

"It's a beautiful sunset." You speak your mind before thinking, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

Rafe just hums in response, looking up only briefly before training his gaze once again on the ragged rocks at his feet and continuing on. "What's it like in District One?" You ask.

"Fine." He replies coldly. You aren't sure what you expected, but this response was pretty on par. You knew you had almost no chance of survival, so it would at least be nice to get to know the person you spend your final days with, even if he would be the one to kill you in the end.

"I've never been, but I've heard it's... nice." You've only ever heard about it from the perspective of other bitter individuals from Five, jealous of the cushy lifestyle everyone knew they must have lived.

"Yeah." Rafe agrees, clearly not wanting to discuss it.

"What are your sister's names?" You ask, deciding to push a little bit. It's not like he can kill you just yet.

Rafe sighs, but answers anyways. "Wheezie and Sarah."

You're shocked that he answered at all, but you could tell in his interview that he has a soft spot for them. "Cute." You nod, smiling to yourself. "Is Wheezie a nickname?"

"Yep, it's short for Louise."

"That's adorable." You grin, shaking your head.

"Hey, look. There." Rafe says, changing the subject and pointing down the rocks, where there's a small opening under a ledge.

"That's it!" You exclaim, deciding to drop the topic of his sisters in favour for finding your shelter for the night. You rush past him, watching your step as you climb down into the small cave.

Rafe quickly draws his bow, slowing down and peaking into the cave and bracing himself for your screams. How could you be so careless in a game like this? He doesn't understand your lightheartedness, your somewhat positive attitude, and your ability to make small talk despite the circumstances. "Hey, careful!"

"It's perfect!" You call back out as you look around, and Rafe steps down carefully, looking around more carefully than you had. He relaxes once he's satisfied that there's nothing down there waiting to kill you.

"Nice, okay." Rafe nods to himself, and you both get to work making a small fire near the entrance, hidden from view.

You take off your jacket and roll it up, using it as a makeshift pillow as you lay next to the fire, staring at the orange flicker of the flames you made.

Rafe is sitting across from you, knees tucked up to his chest as he does just the same. His mind is absolutely reeling- he needs to find something to eat, and soon. That will be the first thing you'll do in the morning, he'll have to employ your help to find something edible. "How are you with making traps?" He asks.

"I can do it." You reply, sitting up and leaning on your elbow so you can see him. "I'll set some up in the morning."

Rafe nods a little bit. He already knew you could, of course, but he's wondering about the logistics of how they work. "So like... hypothetically, would they work the same if you made them bigger?"

"Like... human-sized?" You ask, catching on to what he's suggesting. It's not ethical- but nothing about this game is. For you, this would definitely be preferable to fighting other kids to death over and over again.

Rafe nods, adjusting how he was sitting and crossing his legs.

"Yeah. I can't see why not." You answer. "It would be harder since I've never done it, but I think it could work."

"Then I say we try it."

The next day, you wake up as the sun rises and the light beats down on you from the entrance of the cave. You didn't sleep comfortably, that's for sure, waking up twice throughout the night to the sound of the cannon. That's twenty-seven. You wonder how many teams have already reached their ten-kill quota, you imagine someone in the career pack already has. Both times when you were startled awake, Rafe was standing at the cave entrance, bow drawn as he squinted into the darkness, hoping that whoever was out hunting other tributes wasn't nearby.

You sit up slowly, stretching out your tired limbs as you look over to see Rafe, fast asleep with a blade in his hand. You should let him sleep, and get to work on finding something to eat, and making some traps.

You grab one of the knives Rafe somehow collected from the bag laying next to him as quietly as possible, sneaking outside and taking in your surroundings. The sound of the river flowing and the smell of morning dew was amazing- you wish you could truly enjoy it in different circumstances.

You quickly get to work tracking down something to eat, landing on a few different plants you know to be edible. You're trekking through the woods near your cave when you come across an apple tree- making you pause as you look it over. It looks out of place- and maybe no one got close enough to it in the games last time that you wouldn't have seen it, but that seems unlikely. It must be new; it makes for the perfect place to try and set up a trap for the next hungry tribute who would be unfortunate enough to wander too close to your hideout.

You're digging a hole in the ground with your hands, avoiding the roots of the tree and sticking in some sticks you sharpened when you hear a twig snap behind you. You freeze, hoping that by some miracle, it's just an animal. You slowly turn your head to try and look, picking up the knife from the ground next to you and holding it tight.

"Just me." Rafe's voice relaxes you, and you stand up, brushing off your knees.

"You scared me." You admit as he takes to looking down into the hole you just dug.

"That looks... awful." He chuckles, patting your shoulder. "It won't kill, but it'll slow someone down enough that I can finish the job."

You nod slightly, staring into the dirt as well. You hated the idea that you were crafting something intentionally to bring harm to another person, but realistically you have no choice. "We'll set up more, along the riverbed and closer to the career pack. We can't monitor them all at once, though- can you make more fatal ones next time?" Rafe asks, pointing back towards the river to accentuate his point.

"That depends, how many arrows can you spare?"

The next few days saw the death toll rise to thirty-six. You kept track every night, scratching their numbers and names into the walls of the cave despite being able to remember anyway. You viewed it as a small memorial, Rafe saw it as a timer ticking down to when he'd have to kill you.

Your first trap had worked on one person, their screams of pain from a cut-up leg summoning your teammate back to the apple tree. He insisted you stay behind as he finished what you started. You had to reset several other traps as well, closer to the cornucopia.

Rafe would never admit it, but he was really starting to like you. He didn't want to hurt you- he was worried the traps wouldn't do enough. The passive approach you so preferred wasn't what he expected, and he knew his dad would be disappointed in him. But Ward would never understand.

He sighed as he poked at the fire with a stick, leaning his head back against the rocky wall of the cave, another cold night ahead of you.

You had your head laid on his lap, his thigh replacing the thin material of your coat that you had been using the last few days.

"How old are your sisters?" You ask out of nowhere, prompting him to look down at you. He had thought you fell asleep a while ago.

"Why does it matter?" Rafe replies, and you just shrug a little bit.

"Gives us something to talk about."

"Fifteen and Eleven." He relents.

"Hey, me too." You smile a little to yourself.

"You have sisters?" Rafe asks. He never asked much about you- he didn't really want to know, in the case he had to kill you.

"Yep. And a brother." You nod, sitting up a little bit. "He's older though, he aged out last year."

Rafe finds himself clenching his jaw. He can't hear that- to see you as a little sister. He doesn't want to imagine what it would be like to see his sisters face the same fate. "Lucky guy." He says quietly.

"Why? I thought it was a privilege, and all that." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but not for most. For the outlying districts like you."

"At least you get it." You agree. "How does it feel? Now that you're here, I mean."

"Scary." Rafe admits, throwing caution to the wind now with what his father will think. "Not what everyone tells you it'll be like."

"Is that because of me?" You ask after a few moments, and he nods slightly.

"Not in a bad way, though. It's just different. I expected to be on my own, to die alone, or kill my allies if I had to. Now... I don't know that I have to. Or if I even could." He can practically hear his father shouting at their large screen at home, or storming out claiming he was an embarrassment. He was told his whole life to never show weakness, to 'be a man', but now, at the end, that doesn't matter to him.

"I won't take it personally." You giggle softly, voice shaking as you try to make light of it. "My family won't either, I don't think. Maybe my dad, at first, but eventually he'll understand. They'll forgive you." You try and ease his mind, knowing that in the case that Rafe does win without you, he'll have to face your family in the next month or so during the victory tour.

"I wouldn't ever expect him to." Rafe tells you, tossing his stick into the flames now. He feels sick hearing you talk about it like it's inevitable- but if he has anything to do with it, you'll be coming home with him.

"They're good people." You assure him.

"Don't say that." Rafe chuckles, shaking his head. "I would never forgive myself."

"Okay, fine. They're awful. Just... the worst." You smile, looking up at him and resting your chin in your hand.

"That's better. Thank you." Rafe laughs, poking your forehead and gazing out onto the river as the flames illuminate the water.

In the morning, you're awoken to something brushing your leg. You groan and roll over, head landing once more on Rafe's extended arm underneath you. At least he was finally getting some sleep, pretty much unable to close his eyes since you set foot in the arena. You feel the brush again, followed by something moving on your arm, several things, suddenly, and your eyes fly open and look down when you remember where you are. You let out a scream, scrambling to sit up and pushing yourself back against the wall.

Rafe wakes up quickly, scrambling for the bow next to him when he realizes it won't be any help. You're surrounded by and quickly almost covered in a sickening combination of snakes and spiders.

You're still screaming, trying to shove the creatures off of you. "Come on- come on!" Rafe is yelling at you, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the exit. You don't get the chance to grab your back and you regret that as you're jumping into the river in attempt to get the spiders off of your skin and out of your clothes.

You're breathing heavily as you come up for air, and Rafe is quickly there, brushing his hands over your hair to make sure every last spider is gone. He looks back at the entrance of the cave, chest heaving like yours as the bugs and snakes spill out of it. It sends a shiver down his spine- he was never a fan of snakes.

"I guess that's the gamemakers telling us enough was enough." He sighs, gently pulling you towards the shore again a safe distance away. "Are you bit?" He asks once you're a safe distance away.

"I don't think so..." You reply, hiking up the ankles of your pants to look at your calves and over your bare arms as you sit on the shore. "You?"

Rafe shakes his head, doing the same. "It was probably just a warning. We have to move." He quickly lowers his pant leg over the puncture wounds in his leg, hoping you didn't see. If it gets worse, he'll tell you. The bite itself didn't hurt much, so if it's going to be fatal, he's glad he won't have to hurt you.

Rafe helps you up, leading you up towards the tree line. "They probably want to push us in toward the other tributes, I think we should go with it before they throw something worse at us." You, the two of you now left with nothing but what you had on you, along with Rafe's bow and a few spare arrows.

He nods. "It's our best move anyways. How many tributes are left?"

"Twelve including us." You answer quickly. "There's Avril, a boy from six, Maisie, she's from my district, most of the careers I think are still in it but not their teammates," You begin to rattle off the list,

"I don't want to know names." Rafe cuts you off, and you understand why. He's been doing all the dirty work, and part of you knows it's because he's hoping to have time to learn names and feel guilty about it later. Right now, he can't afford to see them as human.

"Right." You agree. "It doesn't really matter, anyways."

"Do you know scores?" He asks, walking alongside you now.

You nod, beginning to list off all the remaining tributes and their scores, from lowest to highest. The lowest being you- and the highest being ten, shared by Rafe and a boy from district two.

After hearing two more cannons that day, and checking all the traps you had set, you're circling back to the river to be near fresh water before you set up camp again. You don't have your water bottle anymore, or anything to set up any kind of shelter with, you do your best. You set up a fire, Rafe insisting that if it draws other tributes to you so be it- he's ready for this to end just as much as you, but you don't want to rush into your death or an ambush. It's safe to say you won't be sleeping tonight.

You didn't sleep, but at least, curled up under a tree, the night sky was beautiful. The stars seemed realistic, and you wondered if somehow they were real. Between the two more cannons that struck overnight, you still wondered if you were somewhere near the ocean, or somewhere closer to home. While you're sitting next to each other in a peaceful silence, both admiring the vastness of the night sky, you hear a ringing sound coming from above.

Rafe quickly stands, reaching for the small silver pack with a parachute before it hits the ground. He's quick to open it as you stand up, looking into the container. You grab the small card, tilting it into the light of your fire to read it.

For our Y/N,

Keep fighting. Please come home to us.

Love You Always, Dad

Tears form in your eyes almost instantly, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. "It's just a water bottle and some kind of granola bars... or something." Rafe says, turning the water bottle over in his hand.

He looks up at you, frowning when he sees how upset you look. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." You quickly shake your head, wiping your eyes. "Uhm, it's from my dad."

The fact that your family could spare enough money to send you something in the games at all was amazing to you. You heard horror stories of the astronomical prices of trying to send something from outside of the capitol, without the status and funds of a sponsor.

"Oh." Rafe replies, handing you the tin and bottle now, taking the card from you gently. He reads it over slowly, and over and over again. His family had seemingly endless amounts of money, and they had sent him nothing. He knew his father viewed it as cheating, and that you shouldn't need any kind of help to win. If he loved him, though, that wouldn't matter. He should be willing to do anything he could to keep his son alive. The way your parents did.

"My mom made these." You sniffle, grabbing a small bar from the container in her hand. "They're my favourite, she only makes them on birthdays or special occasions." You explain.

"That's... that's really nice." Rafe says, putting the card back in the tin. He doesn't know how to handle this, or what to say.

You smile sadly as you sit back down against the tree, placing the tin on your lap as Rafe joins you. "Here." You hold the bar out to him.

"They're for you." Rafe shakes his head, pushing it away.

"They're for us." You insist, holding it out to him again. "They wouldn't have sent two if I wasn't meant to share."

"Thank you." Rafe smiles genuinely, for the first time in weeks as he takes it. He's starving, having eaten only small amounts of meat and plants over the last week or so, so he's quick to take a bite. It's sweet, more so than he expected. He never thought he could enjoy sugar this much.

"No wonder they're reserved for celebrations, hey?" You giggle, having intently watched his reaction.

Rafe nods. "Yeah, it's really good. Super sweet." He says, mouth still full. You grin, satisfied as you take a bite of your own.

The night flew by so quickly, you're feeling as though it must have gotten shorter. The sunrise went by fast too. You're guessing the gamemakers and the viewers were getting antsy. To be honest, you were as well.

Renewed with your energy the sugary baking your parents had sent, you set about gathering food and water, while Rafe goes on to check a few of your traps to see if they needed to be reset. He could do it on his own, but he liked watching you do it, working the ropes between your fingers and tying intricate knots, pulling back on the stick used to trigger the arrow. By the afternoon, having taken a mental note of the amount of cannons that had fired. It was a few, at least. You must be getting down to the end. He prayed it wasn't you, but the cries of some kind of mutts in the distance right before the cannons lead him to believe that you were fine- but he should be getting back soon anyways.

You were wandering down to the water, reluctant to leave your camp, but you knew water was a priority. You were just filling up the new bottle when you heard a scream. It sounded like a boy. You quickly look back over your shoulder, noticing it was nearby. Toward the apple tree. You stand slowly, looking around as you attach the water bottle back to your side with a carabiner, reaching instead for the knife Rafe had left with you. God, you hoped it wasn't him. The absence of a cannon gives you hope, though.

You quietly head in that direction, watching your step so your presence isn't detected. When you get closer to the tree, you hear crying. Painful crying, as you're faced with the reality of the trap you set.

You watch from behind a tree as the boy from eight tries to pull his leg up from the ground, screaming out again as the sharp sticks dig into his flesh. You should go get Rafe- you feel guilty, but you can't kill him yourself. You turn quickly, and before you can get a step away you're face to face with one of the other careers- a sword held up against your neck.

"Don't move." Blake says, a smile that can only be described as evil spreading over his lips.

You try and scream out for help, hoping Rafe was still in earshot but a hand is quickly covering your mouth. "Not yet." He whispers, shaking his head. "We've got a plan, it'll be fun. You wouldn't want to ruin that, right?"

As Rafe gets back to your small camp, he expects to see you there waiting. He scans the trees above him, wondering if you had climbed up for some reason. He calls your name when he doesn't see you, brow furrowed. You definitely should be back by now. As he's heading down to the water to look for you, he hears a cannon, which at this point wouldn't bother him- if it wasn't for the scream that followed after. It was you. No doubt in his mind that it was you. With his bow drawn, he's moving quickly towards where he heard your voice, throwing caution to the wind.

You scream again, crying as the tip of the sword is dug into your shoulder, laying down next to the apple tree. You can't help it- but you don't want their trap to work. You don't want Rafe to come, so you bite your tongue until you taste blood, hoping to keep quiet. "It'll only get worse for you if you don't scream, Y/N/N." Blake scolds you, digging in the blade more. "He has to hear you." He adds through gritted teeth.

You hear a twig snap just outside the small clearing, and Blake is quickly turning to look with the sword still pinning you to the ground. "Rafe it's a trap!" You shout, hoping that it's him.

Rafe steps out then, into full view with his bow drawn as he aims at the boy in front of him. When they first met, he knew they would have been good friends if they met anywhere else. "You won't shoot me." Blake chuckles, and Rafe quickly readjusts his grip.

"I will." Rafe says sternly, pulling the string tighter as Blake moves the sword to hover over your chest. Over your heart.

"If you shoot, the last of my energy will go into killing her. I don't think you want that." He shakes his head, smiling smugly.

"I don't care." Rafe says, making your heart clench. You know that you're friends, at the very least. He does care. He's bluffing- you have to believe that.

"If you didn't care you would have shot me already." Blake calls it, and Rafe tenses up, looking down at you only briefly.

"Then what do you want?" Rafe spits.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted you to watch." Blake shrugs. "Just makes it a little more fun, you know? But don't worry, you'll be next." You know he just wants to prove himself, somehow, not having scored as high as Rafe did. You wonder if his family was somehow similar- that he needed some kind of approval that he thought he might find through sadism.

Rafe looks down at you again, and you just nod, tears streaming down your temples to your ears. He quickly readjusts before letting the arrow fly, planting straight in the shoulder that held the sword as you quickly roll over, slicing across your chest and shoulder in the process. It was well worth it.

Rafe fires another arrow into his chest, not taking any risks and the cannon quickly follows as he rushes to your side.

"Are you okay?" He's asking, hands hovering above you as he's kneeled next to you, unsure what to do.

You nod, still biting into your tongue as blood continues to slide down your skin, dampening your now torn up clothes.

"It's not that bad." Rafe says, looking over the cuts as best he can, but you wince when he pulls the fabric away. "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You mumble, letting your head fall back against the brush below you. Rafe is quick to take his coat off, using it to push down on the deepest part of the wound on your shoulder, trying with his other hand to apply pressure to the rest of it. You try and focus on your breathing, rather than the pain, but it's hard when a significant amount of weight is being applied to your shoulder and chest.

"I'm sorry, I have to." Rafe tells you, jaw tense as he lifts his coat to check whether or not the bleeding has slowed. You didn't even realize you were crying.

After a few minutes, he's lessened the pressure a bit, still holding the fabric firmly over your skin. "You could have ran." You mumble, voice hardly above a whisper.

"I wasn't gonna leave you." Rafe shakes his head, gently peeling away his now blood soaked windbreaker.

"You at least shouldn't have saved me. Not much point in that, is there?" You smile softly, trying to sit up and Rafe is quick to help.

"There is. You have to win." He mutters.

"I'm not winning, Rafe." You smile sadly at him. "Infection will kill me if you won't, and if no one else does first."

"No, they'll fix you up. This cut will be gone in a week, the technology they have is-"

"Rafe." You grab his attention again and he looks up to meet your eyes. They seemed to suck in all the light of the sunset above the two of you, reflecting back at him in a way that makes his breath hitch. The thought is cut short, however, when you say something that breaks his heart. "Don't give me hope like that."

"Why? You're gonna go home. I mean it." He promises. "I'll make sure of it."

"I don't think we have enough." You remind him sadly, a small smile still evident on your lips as you reach up to cup his cheek in your palm. "I never expected to go home. I'm okay with that."

Your friend shakes his head softly. "That doesn't matter. You have your family to get home to, I read that note from your dad. They need you, I can see that. For me, these games are all I was raised for. I have nothing left for me after this." He admits, avoiding eye contact with you. "I could never forgive myself if I didn't get you home."

Tears are forming in your eyes again as you look up at him. The world is watching, and in this moment of vulnerability you feel that more than ever- despite the quiet sounds around you being only the rushing water in the nearby river and the birds chirping around you. "You're a good person, Rafe." You smile at him, watching as he gently raises his hand to yours, grabbing it in his own. "I hope you know that."

In this moment, you settle on the idea that you would die for him. You never understood last years tributes, honestly, how they were willing to die for each other instead of getting home to their own loved ones, but now you do. Completely.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning closer, Rafe doing the same as he kneels next to you in the dark. Your eyes meet once more, lips only an inch from touching when you hear a howl in the distance, and you snap your head to the direction it came from. "The Mutts... Already?" You say, scrambling to get up and ignoring the pain in your shoulder.

"I- I heard them earlier, they sound far away." Rafe says, trying to calm you.

"You heard them? You didn't tell me?" You ask, frantically grabbing his bow from the ground and handing it to him as he goes to pull the discarded arrows out of Blake's body.

"I didn't think it mattered!" He defends, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

"There were four left last year when they sent them out. I think... yeah I think that's right. There's four of us. We have to run." You say in a panic, pulling on his hand. "Our best bet is making it back to the cornucopia."

"It'll be too open- can't we climb a tree or something?" Rafe says, following after you as you're running through the bush now in the direction of the open field.

"I don't know if that will work, but I know we'll be safe there." You explain like it's obvious. "We have to risk it- and if you can get to the others first, if they have the same idea, we'll be at ten."

You're out of breath already, adrenaline pushing you through as you hear scattered barking getting steadily closer after one more cannon. Part of you wants to stop, turn, and force Rafe to take the win if you couldn't have it, but with any hope left, you have to try and get back to where this started. The traps was an unfortunate choice in how you got your kills, because you couldn't keep track of how many since by the time you got around to checking them, the body's would have been airlifted off if it wasn't a misfire. If you had to guess, though, you were sitting at eight.

Rafe is running similar calculations in his head as he lets you lead him by memory straight to the field, mind short-circuiting as he sees the silver moonlight reflect off the cornucopia.

You sprint across the open field, blood pouring from your undressed wound again with the intense exertion of energy. Rafe doesn't pass you, though, despite you expecting that he would. You have tunnel vision as you make it to the metal structure, practically slamming into it before you can even stop. Rafe is quick to lift you and shove you up, both of you looking over your shoulders as you struggle to hold onto the edge, kicking the sides to hold yourself up.

You finally get up, reaching down to help pull Rafe up. He grabs onto your arm for leverage, mostly pulling himself up and you wince as you feel the tension from his weight in your cuts.

You flop down onto your back on the cold surface as he climbs over you, immediately standing up with bow drawn as he intently scans the surrounding area. He's only got the two arrows left, which makes him nervous if that's all he has to defend the both of you with.

You try to settle your breathing, which only lasts for a moment until the sky lights up with the recap. You miss your cave, where you could contribute to your memorial, especially seeing the face of Maisie flash above you on the sky while the anthem plays.

You close your eyes, just listening to the music now until you hear barking just outside of where Rafe can see, and you're quickly sitting up. He draws the bow tighter, aiming in the direction the howls came from just as someone pushes out into the clearing. Rafe is aimed straight at them, bow string pressed to his cheek. He's getting dizzy, and quickly. His aim can't fail him now, he doesn't have that option.

You watch them, in the dark you think it's the other boy from district one, and in your exhaustion you can't remember his name. You wouldn't dare say it, anyways. He's screaming for help, a call you know you can't answer, and you watch as they stumble on their feet, shoes and hands digging into the ground as they try to get up, just ten or so yards from you by now.

Rafe wants to shoot just then, it would be as simple as letting his finger loose and the arrow would fly towards its target. It would be a merciful end for the boy he's trained with for years now, only a couple years younger than him. The muscle in his jaw is aching from the tension he's put on it when he forces himself to let go. He has to do it, for himself, if he wants to go home.

He misses. The yelp of one of the mutts tells you it landed in a paw or back, and you look up at Rafe who's already drawn his second. "Rafe!" You cry out, pushing yourself up onto your feet and standing behind him now.

He hates to admit that your empathy has rubbed off on him. Watching you every night carving seemingly endless names and numbers into the rocks that lined the space you stepped in. He recalls waking up one morning and seeing your name and his carved in as well, closer to where he laid by the fire, his underlined and yours with a heart at the end. Like a signature on the top of a math test. He had wondered if you always wrote your name like that, and in this moment as he releases the bow again, he knows he has to find out for himself.

It happened so fast, the mutts knocking down the boy and the arrow flying from Rafe's shaky hands into where he should have been right as the cannon sounds. You don't know that it was Rafe's arrow that did him in.

"No..." You mumble, clamouring forward and onto your knees again to look over as the boys body is torn apart by the mutts. "You had to have done it. You had to." You say, trying to get a better view.

In a second, Rafe's arms are around you and he's pulling you back from the edge, sitting now behind you with his arms wrapped tightly over your body. "It's okay.. it's over." He mumbles, kissing the side of your head as the sunlight comes over the trees. He's fighting off the urge to vomit, everything spinning around him now.

You sit with him, gripping onto his arms and crying. Nothing is happening, so you must not have made it to ten. You feel sick- your heart is in your throat and suddenly you're really hot, moving away from him to look over the edge again, this time incase you have to throw up. You freeze, looking over to where the boy's body once was. The second arrow was in the ground. He missed again.

Rafe sees it at the same time as you. He sighs, hanging his legs over the edge. "Shit... Y/N, I'm sorry." He mumbles, gently reaching over to rub your back.

"No, no. It's okay." You insist, sitting up next to him. "I knew this would happen."

"I'll get you home." Rafe says, sliding down the side of the cornucopia before you can stop him. He stumbles the landing, swaying in his walk as he heads towards the arrow lodged into the dirt.

"Wait! Wait, wait, Rafe!" You're sliding down after him, running to his side and grabbing his arm before he can get to the arrow in the ground.

He turns to you quickly, hand on your cheek and he's pressing his lips to your forehead. "Sit with me?" He asks, knees already giving out as he falls to the ground.

You're instantly on the ground beside him, practically holding his head up with your free hand as you search him visually for some kind of injury. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I guess so." Rafe mutters. "Snake bite. I think."

"You didn't tell me? I could have fixed this, I could have helped..." You ramble on, his eyes dropping shut now. "Hey, eyes open."

"It's okay. Just sit with me..." He says again, smiling weakly. "Wait with me... please?"

You nod, sniffling as you fight back the tears that want to fall. "Yeah, of course. I'll stay."

Before he closes his eyes, the music starts again and your eyes are drawn up to the sky after you notice Rafe is looking first.

Then, begins a similar slideshow of faces you recognize. Ten in total. Rafe's eyes flicker with slight recollection, remembering any kills he made himself and you gasp when you see Jack. Whatever damage you had done when he tackled you on the first day must have killed him. "Rafe.." You mumble, lowering your eyes to meet his. "I think we won."

Your point is accentuated by the voice of the head gamemaker over some unseen speakers. "Introducing the Victors of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games!"

"We did it." Rafe laughs weakly, squeezing your hand.

You fully ignore the aircraft hovering down in front of you on the grass, turning your head to look down at him. You don't say anything, neither of you do, and you finally feel your lips against his. The kiss is bad, it doesn't really work when both of you are stuck smiling ear to ear, but you don't care one bit. The only thing that matters is that you got this chance at all.

Rafe pulls away from you slowly, using all the strength he has left to lift himself onto his feet as you steady him. "He needs help!" You shout to them, and you're quickly being lead onto the plane.

"They've got really good technology," You mock what he said to you just the day before. "It'll be like it never happened in a week, okay?" You chuckle, feeling waves of happiness, worry, and relief all at once as you quickly wipe away a tear with your free hand, other arm wrapped tightly around Rafe's waist to hold him up.

He laughs, and you lean into him more, your forehead against his shoulder as the aircraft door slides shut behind you.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy @dee127

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akaridream · 1 year

Text

all the right buttons: part 2 GOKU (college AU goku x reader)

alright goku fuckers, come get y'all juice

and don't worry geta lovers, you'll get yours soon too

You stared at the coin in your hand, anxiously rubbing your thumb over it. The only way to discover your true feelings was to flip it. Heads for Goku, tails for Vegeta.

The coin sailed through the air. You captured it between your palms and flipped it onto the back of one hand. Eyes opening, you lifted your hand. Heads.

YOU: ummm i guess i felt like i had a slightly better connection with goku?

You climbed into bed and laid in the darkness, wiggling your toes impatiently between your bed sheets. Your stomach floated nervously within you, waiting for her response. What if your guess was wrong? Would you be disappointed if it was Vegeta? No, certainly not disappointed. But there would be at least a tinge of FOMO in your heart at the thought of missing out on Goku. He seemed so sweet and easy to get along with. But perhaps he was just a nice guy with everyone and you were nothing special to him. Whatever the case, you jolted when your phone finally buzzed with Bulma’s reply.

BULMA: as soon as you left, goku said you were cool and that you should come over again soon :) and he said you were really pretty An automatic smile spread across your face and you kicked your feet up with a delighted squeal.

YOU: omg i’ll come over right now if he wants haha

BULMA: easy tiger :) i gave him your number and told him to hit you up, so hopefully you’ll be hearing from him v soon

YOU: did you tell him anything I said about him? Did you put in a good word for me?

BULMA: I told him you’re super sweet and lots of fun to be around, but he was already kinda smitten and didnt need much encouragement. it was actually really cute

Your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling. Then your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number: hey, it’s goku! i got your number from bulma, i hope thats alright

You stomped your feet on the bed, pleasantly surprised that he was texting you already. This guy doesn’t play games!

YOU: omg hey! ofc thats okay! I know I can trust bulma not to give my number to creeps. I had a great time playing with you today!

GOKU: yeah me too! I’ll have to dig out some other games we can play together sometime

YOU: I’m absolutely down for another game sesh! Wish I still had all my old games, I’d bring some

GOKU: just bring yourself and I’m sure we can find something to play! theres actually an old tenkaichi tournament movie, we could try and find it somewhere and watch it

YOU: ive heard its actually a horrible movie! but that isn’t gonna stop me, i love making fun of bad movies

GOKU: haha cool! Vegeta and I always go to the gym friday afternoons, but I’m free after 5 or so. We could order some food and just hang out here

Wow, he really doesn’t beat around the bush! Straight to asking me to hang out already?

YOU: that sounds great! And will your roommates be joining us?

GOKU: they’ll probably be around. But i was kind of hoping it might just be you and me

YOU: i think i’d like that :) so it’s a date then?

GOKU: yeah, if that’s okay with you

YOU: definitely okay with me! I can bring some drinks if you want

GOKU: yeah sure! You like chinese takeout? Theres an awesome place just off campus I order from all the time, they give you sooo much food

YOU: yeah, that sounds great to me. I’m sure you need big portions, you’re a growing boy after all!

For the rest of the week, you texted Goku without the conversation coming to a natural end. As midday turned into Friday afternoon, an anxious, fluttery feeling flooded your stomach. What should you wear? What should you do with your hair? What about makeup? In the end, you opted for a pair of high-waisted jean shorts, a cute camisole with lace trim and an oversized cozy cardigan that kept falling off your shoulder. The peek of skin would be enticing, if he was interested in hooking up of course. And you certainly weren’t against that idea. Since the day you met him, you had been thinking about climbing all over him, especially right into his lap…

You put your hair up into a clip and dotted your cheeks and lips with a soft glow. After a touch of mascara, you admired yourself in your full length mirror. Scrubbed, shaved and smelling lightly of perfume, you felt confident in your natural beauty. Your heart danced in your chest when your phone buzzed with a text from Goku, saying to come over whenever you were ready. You grabbed the case of chilled vodka soda from your dorm fridge and headed across campus.

By the time you arrived at Bulma and Goku’s front door, your cheeks were aching from smiling so much. Your heart still twirling like a ballerina, you knocked and awaited your date’s appearance.

The door swung open, revealing Goku in a tight black tee and another pair of short shorts in bright orange. He grinned and adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Hey! Good to see ya!” he said, giving you a brief but warm hug as you stepped over the threshold. Your arms snaked around his thin waist, pleasantly aware of having his hard body flush against yours.

“Good to see you again too, Goku! How was your workout?” you asked as he led you into the kitchen.

“Great! Vegeta hit a PR on bench today, so that was cool!”

You tilted your head as he took the case of vodka soda from you and put it in the fridge. “What’s a PR?”

He blinked. “Oh! Personal record. Sorry, I forgot you aren’t a gym rat like me,” he said, shyly scratching the back of his neck. “Oh, Bulma left this for us by the way.” Goku tapped a knuckle on a bottle of white wine with a fancy label.

“Oh my gosh, that looks expensive!” you said as you examined it. “But what a sweetheart she is! I’ll have to tell her thank you!”

Goku led you to the living room where the game console and old TV had been shoved to the corner and Bulma’s fancy flat screen once again dominated the space. A new coffee table sat in front of the couch as well.

“She’s been busting my balls all week about you,” he said with a shy chuckle as he plopped onto the couch.

“Oh yeah?” you asked in a teasing voice. “What about me?” A warm blush started to overtake Goku’s cheeks. He smiled and shrugged. “Just that she’s happy to see me take interest in someone, I guess. Apparently she thinks its about time!”

You sat on the couch and propped your arm over the back, turned to face Goku. “Has it been a while since you dated someone then?”

He nodded. “Yeah, since high school. I had a long term thing with this one girl but it didn’t end so great. She was a bit of a hot-head. But since her… I haven’t even been on a date. Just been trying to sort my own stuff out, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I’m not the most experienced with relationships either. Shit’s complicated,” you laughed.

Goku smiled. “Yeah, you’re telling me!” His phone buzzed. “Alright, dinner’s here! Be right back!” His eyes grew wide with excitement and he raced out the door before you could even reply. He came back just as quick and unloaded a surprising amount of food onto the coffee table.

“Are you sure you ordered enough?” you asked sarcastically.

Goku furrowed his brows and looked over the selection of takeout containers. “Well, I thought five entrees might be enough, but I’ll be happy to order more if you want!”

You laughed and opened a pair of chopsticks. “I was kidding! This looks like enough to feed my entire family back home!”

His frown quickly inverted and he grinned. “Oh, okay, good! Should we break out what you brought to drink or try Bulma’s fancy wine?”

“Let’s have the wine with the movie, I think,” you suggested, padding over to the fridge and grabbed a drink for each of you.

Per usual with Goku, conversation was steady and comfy. You chatted and laughed as you sat on the floor across the coffee table from each other, both of your cell phones sitting untouched. “Is this table new?” you asked.

Goku nodded as he scarfed down some lo mein. “Yeah, Bulma bought a new one because Vegeta and I kind of broke the last one.” You sputtered a laugh. “How on earth did you manage to break a coffee table?”

“Well, we were just kind of goofing around and Vegeta slipped and… Fell right through it! It was all glass, he complained about it being invisible all the time anyway. Bulma is convinced he did it on purpose because he hated it!”

You covered your mouth full of food and laughed heartily. “That is hilarious! But what the hell do you mean you were just goofing around?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, just… Goofin’ off like guys do?”

“Sounds just like my brothers,” you said, shaking your head.

You finished your meal, with Goku eating the lion’s share of the food. You didn’t mind, he clearly required more calories than you did. As he was clearing away all the takeout containers, you watched him in the kitchen from behind. His wide shoulders and slutty waist made your head feel light. Or was it the vodka soda?

“You ready to bust out this bottle of wine?” he called over his shoulder.

Your eyes grazed over his silhouette, admiring his stellar ass in those tiny shorts. “Sure, let’s do it!”

Goku rummaged around in the kitchen drawers. “Crap, I have no idea where to find a corkscrew.”

You rose from your place on the living room floor to help him look. “Well I sure hope you at least know how to use one, because I sure don’t! I only ever buy the cheap wine with the screw top.”

Goku bumped into you, then placed a hand on your hip to navigate around you in the kitchen. You blushed at the contact.

“Bulma’s not here, is she?” you asked. “We could ask her if she knows where it is.”

“No, she said she was heading back to West City to see her parents this weekend. And Vegeta said he’d be out late tonight.”

Way at the back of a stuck drawer, you felt a spiral shape. You turned and twisted it until the drawer could move again, finally able to extract the object. You held it up with a bright smile.

“Ta-da!” you said.

“Hey, nice!” Goku said, giving you a high-five. He took the corkscrew and carefully opened the fancy bottle to pour you both a glass.

You returned to the living room with two stemless crystal glasses as Goku made a quick trip to his bedroom.

“The library had the Tenkaichi movie on DVD!” he called down the hall as he returned. You sat on the edge in the middle of the couch, watching him lean over to load the DVD into the player. Those damn shorts are giving me heart palpitations, you thought. His body is godly.

Cheeks growing warmer by the second, you slid your cardigan off one shoulder for some much-needed cool air. You caught Goku’s eyes taking you in as he turned around, peeking at him over the rim of your wine glass.

“How’s it taste?” Goku asked, his voice quiet and soft.

You raised the crystal and gave it a swirl before taking a sip. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose as you swallowed the aromatic liquid, a trail of pleasant warmth growing in your chest.

“Expensive,” you said. You both laughed.

Goku grabbed the remote and sat on your right, his left arm automatically fanning over the back of the couch cushion. Once he started the movie, he exchanged the remote for his glass of wine, taking a sizable swig.

“Hm, it’s sweeter than I expected. The last time I tried wine, I felt like it sucked all the moisture out of my mouth,” Goku said.

You took another sip. “Yeah, this one is nice and mild. I could drink the whole bottle of this,” you said, your head starting to feel pleasantly heavy.

Eager to move closer to your date, you sat back into the couch and tucked your feet up, leaning onto your hip. There was still space between the two of you, but it was Goku’s turn to come to you next.

The movie began with a vibrant action scene, filling the dark room with bright flashes of light. After draining half of his glass, Goku leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table. When he leaned back, he closed the small gap between you, nestling your shoulder under his wing on the back of the couch. A rush filled you immediately, and you happily leaned your weight into his firm torso. At that, Goku moved his arm from the couch cushion to rest across your shoulders. Another pleasing rush of adrenaline raced through you. You licked your lips and sipped on the wine.

“This okay?” he said, barely above a whisper.

You gave a smile and warm mm-hmm before placing your glass on the table and snuggling up to him even more. His thighs spread slightly, making his leg press into yours. Like chess opponents trading moves, you thought about what your next move should be. Your mind flashed back to the last time you saw Goku. That blue tank top had shown off his pecs just right…

Biting your lip, you leaned your head over to rest your burning cheek against his chest. With your ear pressed to him, you could hear his heart beating wildly. The excitement of snuggling up with such a handsome guy was not lost on you, as your heart was purring like an engine. His pecs really did make for a great pillow.

Goku began brushing his fingers softly over your exposed shoulder. You sighed happily and relaxed into his touch.

“You’re comfy,” you said as you worked your arms around his waist. He leaned back, pulling you into him even more.

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You’re cute.”

“Thanks,” you breathed, heart leaping at the compliment.

As the movie progressed, you paid less attention to it and more to every fiber of Goku’s body. After polishing off your glasses of wine and feeling delightfully buzzed, you curled up even further into him, feet tucked up and thighs falling over onto his. Your head also migrated from resting atop his muscular chest to nuzzling into his neck. All it would take would be a subtle movement to start kissing his neck…

It took a while to muster the courage to make such a bold move. It was only your first date after all. Perhaps this was moving too fast. But he really did seem into you. And you were undoubtedly into him. While gently petting your hand over his chest, you parted your lips, and allowed a steamy breath to escape and tickle his neck. His heart began to drum hard enough for you to feel. You let your lips touch his skin with a feather-light press. Goku’s dark eyes slid closed with your next kiss, the fullness of your gorgeous mouth lighting up each nerve along his neck. You gave a gentle suck to it, causing a sweet sigh to fall from his lips. You trailed your hand up to hold the opposite side of his neck as your tongue began to tease him with tiny kitten licks, then bold circles.

Goku’s hand went from your shoulder to the back of your head, guiding you. You felt his pulse pound as you kissed him. His other hand found your wrist and squeezed.

“Hah,” he breathed. “Need to kiss you.”

You pulled back enough to look at his handsome face. His cheeks were pleasantly pink and his eyes were dazed and dreamy behind his frames. He took your chin with one hand and brought your mouth up to his, finally letting your hot breaths intermingle before he sweetly caressed your lips with his own. Goku’s tongue softly brushed over your lip, silently pleading for yours. You obliged and his tongue invaded to massage yours. Every movement was slow and sensual, tender yet incredibly erotic.

While shifting yourself to face Goku more fully, your leg brushed past something hard, and you were certain it wasn’t just his meaty thighs. Your core heated and revved like a racecar. Unable to keep them suppressed, sighs and heavy breaths from Goku encouraged you to continue kissing.

“W-wait,” Goku said, pulling away slightly. “You aren’t too drunk for this, are you?”

You pulled back further and looked at him, his black eyes full of concern. Your heart clenched. What a sweetheart!

“No,” you giggled, pulling his glasses off and placing them next to your empty wine glasses. “I may be a bit buzzed, but I’m fully aware of what I’m doing. And I don’t intend to stop.”

With that, you climbed over Goku to straddle his lap. Without the black frames, his eyes shone with gentleness, and lust. Using his shoulders for support, you adjusted yourself atop his lap until you found exactly what you were looking for. His lips fell open with a sharp, breathy groan.

“This okay?” you asked as you returned your mouth to his.

Goku kissed you between heated breaths as he gripped your thighs. “Hahh, yeah. Definitely.”

You shrugged off your cardigan and tossed it aside as you made out. One of your hands worked into Goku’s wild hair as his hands wandered up to your hips. He pulled you towards him, chest to chest, and your tight jean shorts gave you both a taste of delicious friction. That made him shove his tongue messily down your throat, like he was slowly fucking your mouth. You whined, grinding your hips down. He responded with a tight squeeze to your ass.

“I’ve… I’ve never really done this whole hooking up thing before,” he admitted.

You scratched his scalp lightly, making his eyes flutter in pleasure. “We don’t have to go any further.”

“But that’s the problem,” he said, kissing your throat. “I don’t wanna stop. You’re really hot and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

You giggled as his lips trailed down to your collarbone, sweet sensations filling you from head to core. “Then by all means, continue.”

“You gotta tell me if you wanna stop, or if I go too far.” He slid the strap of your cami and kissed your shoulder.

“Okay. And you do, too,” you breathed as his fingers softly traced your arm.

Just the touch of his hands was enough to make your eyes fall closed in bliss, and you wanted his big hands all over you. Under your shirt, on your waist, in your shorts…

“Can’t believe you aren’t bringing girls back every night. You’re so fucking hot,” you said as he sucked on your pulse point.

He smirked and took your cheek in in his palm. “I’m not a fuck boy. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.” He gave you the most saccharine kiss yet, making you melt completely in his lap. “Which reminds me…” He pulled back slightly to look you in the eyes. “This… Isn’t just gonna be a one time thing, is it? Because I really do like you, and I want to get to know you.”

You smiled and put your hands on his gorgeous chest. “I like you too, Goku. And I’d love to get to know you better, and make out with you more, too.”

He gave a glowing smile and endearing chuckle. If he were any cuter, you feared your heart may burst. “Yeah, I really like kissing you. Like, a lot.”

And so you did just that. Desperate yet tender, Goku’s tongue reconnected with yours as your hips began to roll against his. Those shorts of his were blessedly thin, and your tight denim put pressure right on your sweet spot.

“Mm, touch me more,” you pleaded.

“Where?” he whispered.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.”

You took Goku’s lower lip between your teeth as his big hands roamed freely. His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, then boldly over the fullness of them just as your hips hitched against his stiff cock print. A moan ripped from your throat.

You gripped the back of the couch on either side of Goku’s head and started working your hips into a rhythm. It was agonizingly slow for him, just enough stimulation to tease and make him want more. Foreheads sealed together, mouths exchanging breaths, you humped his lap as he tenderly squeezed your tits.

“Can you go faster?” he asked, a desperate tremble to his voice. You grinned and did as he asked while bringing your chest close to his face. He pressed your breasts together and kissed the tops of them, slightly pulling down the top of your camisole. You slid the straps off your shoulders and pulled the shirt down to expose your tits to him. Goku’s eyes shone brightly as they drank you in. “Fuck. You’re perfect,” he praised, circling his thumbs over your nipples.

“Use your mouth.”

He obeyed immediately, placing delicate kisses over one while softly pinching the other. You sighed and rewarded him by continuing to hump him. But he teased you, only lightly lapping your nipple with his sweet tongue.

“Mm, harder,” you whined.

Goku proved to be pleasantly obedient, taking your directions well. He sucked and pulled back to let your tit bounce, then sought your eyes for approval. You groaned in pleasure and mussed his hair, forcing his head back to your chest. One of his large hands supported your upper back, the other smearing saliva over your pert nipple. The telltale tingle between your thighs was beginning to grow steadily. Based on the way he was whining and bucking underneath you, Goku was feeling good, too.

“Damnit, please don’t make me ruin these shorts by cumming in them,” he begged.

You slowed your pace and lifted Goku’s chin. “Where do you want to cum then?”

His pupils wide in awe, he failed to form any coherent words. “I… Well, wha…”

“Aw, did I make you dumb already, big boy?” you patronized.

“I was never that smart to begin with.” His expression was dreamy and he stared up at you like you were a goddess.

You giggled and stood up. “Why don’t you let me finish you off?”

You got on your knees between his, your breasts still exposed and holding his attention. Your soft hands rubbed up his sculpted thighs, sneaking under the hem of his shorts. His eyes met yours as you palmed his aching cock. His perfectly kissable lips hung open as you teased him, and his throaty little moans each sent a pulse straight to your pussy.

As you pulled at the waistband of his shorts, you saw two wet spots of precum had soaked through, a sign of a job well done by you. Goku lifted his hips and pulled down the obstruction to reveal his gloriously sized dick. You almost growled at the sight, feral with desire.

“Holy shit,” you said, eyes devouring the perfect specimen before you. The tip was fat and shiny, begging for your lips to wrap around it. “This still okay?”

He blew a puff of air through his nose. “Of course.”

You wrapped your index finger and thumb around his thick cock, teasing up and down his shaft slowly. He tried to strangle his moan in his throat. You met his eyes as he reclined and you lightly pressed a kiss to his tip, then trailed more kisses down one side of his length. You never would have guessed he could made such sinful sounds from his candy-sweet personality, but each noise weakened you. Eye contact still unbroken, your lips finally enveloped his cockhead, then pulled off with an obscene slurp. One hand on his shaft and the other squeezing his thigh, you circled your tongue around Goku’s beautiful cock. Worshipping it with your mouth and hearing his vocal approval made you clench your leg muscles, stimulating yourself.

“Decided where you wanna cum yet?” you asked as you licked up the underside, making him shudder.

“Ahh… I’m really not picky,” he chuckled.

With that, you started sucked him off with purpose and vigor, eager to hear his whines of pleasure. Your saliva dripped down, making a mess of him as your hand twisted and pulled. You kept constant pressure and pleasure on him, making his moans pitch up. They came in short, desperate bursts and you finally dove deep, taking his entire length down your throat in one swift motion. As you lifted to dive down again, Goku gripped the arm of the couch with one hand and guided your head with the other. While his touch was light on you, you feared his intense strength might rip the upholstery of the poor couch.

“Ahh, almost there!” Goku cried, hips beginning to twitch.

End in sight, you watched his face as you sucked him. A few final strokes and one beastly growl had him shooting hot strings down your throat. His brows knit together tightly, mouth hanging open, head tossing. He writhed in pleasure as you slowed, swallowing every drop he offered you. And it was a lot. You swallowed at least three times, taking more cum each time. Even when your mouth left him, tiny beads formed at the slit of his cock. You smeared them with you thumb, then licked him clean.

“Hope you didn’t mind that I decided for you,” you panted, proud of your hard work.

Goku slumped on the couch wearing a dazed expression. “I can barely move. Damn,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But what can I do for you now?”

Just as a grin started to form, the sound of someone unlocking the front door jolted you both out of your haze. Your eyes grew wide.

“Vegeta’s back already?” Goku whispered, frantically stuffing himself back inside his shorts as you fixed your shirt. You stood quickly enough to make your head spin and grabbed your empty wine glasses to busy yourself. Just as you made it to the kitchen to wash the glasses (and your hand covered in spit and cum), Vegeta shoved his way through the front door. You gave him a soapy-handed wave.

“Hey Vegeta,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t take a long enough look at you to notice your flushed face, neck, and chest. Thankfully, he just gave you a grunt in reply.

“You’re back early,” Goku said, a lilt in his voice.

“Not really,” Vegeta grumbled, barely giving Goku a glance as he passed. His bedroom door shut with a stern thud.

“Sounds like he had a bad day,” you mused.

Goku stood from the couch and replaced his eyeglasses. “Well, yeah. He’s jealous that you picked me over him.”

Your heart screeched to a halt. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

He tilted his head and padded over to you at the sink. “Bulma said that you said you had a better connection with me.”

Your cheeks began to burn. “She told you I said that? But she said one of you asked about me! She told me to guess which one! I couldn’t decide which of you I liked better, so she… That Bulma!” You dried your hands and tossed the dish towel onto the counter, pouting that Bulma had tricked you into making a decision. “Wait, so neither one of you actually asked her about me?”

Goku smiled warmly. “Actually, we both did. As soon as Vegeta got back from his lab, we had an argument about which one of us was gonna get to ask you out. Bulma overheard us and told us she’d figure out who you liked better!”

“But I just flipped a coin! Literally, I couldn’t decide!” you laughed.

“You did? So you didn’t really pick me at all, did you?” Goku asked, looking like a kicked puppy.

You stood on your toes and reached your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sensual kiss.

“Fate picked you for me. And for the record, I’m really, really glad it was you, Goku.” His hands held your waist as he returned your kiss. When you pulled back, his sugary smile had renewed completely and his eyes sparkled with affection.

“Me too.”

tags: @artof-aristocracy @ghostlylovesstuff

#dbz x reader #goku x you #son goku #goku x reader #goku smut #fuzzfeet #fuzzfeet figure #dragon ball #dragon ball z #all the right buttons

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aurumacadicus · 1 month

Text

You guys remember that Demon!Steve and Angel!Tony thing I posted? How about some backstory. Also I have a secret backstory for angel pronouns but I feel like I'm gonna be smote if I say them so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ There's a reason Steve uses it/its for Tony until told otherwise.

Also TW: lots of religious imagery.

The church was empty.

Steve blinked up at it slowly. The church hadn't been empty for... he didn't know how long. It had been his. He had... lived there? He'd... attended, he was certain. And he had... he had died there.

He was born there. It had never been empty in his memory. He had many years of memory, of hours of people sitting-standing-kneeling-weeping-praying. He noted the broken shards of glass where there used to be windows. The colors had once danced across the ground at his feet from the amount of candles inside. The large doors were broken, one hanging off its hinges while the other was lying on the stone steps. He wondered at what could have done this. The doors were heavy. It had taken two people to open and close just one of them.

Then he noticed an ethereal glow coming from inside. The church had always been lit by candles. He was no longer cautious like he had been as a child, coughing and coughing and gasping and coughing. He stepped inside.

Steve had seen angels before. Small things, with wingspans like birds. White-feathered, glowing silvery in the dark. Young. He'd enjoyed scaring them off, spitting fire and venom at them.

This angel could destroy him before he even turned to leave, he realized, the coal that had become his heart dropping to his stomach. Old, older than any he had seen, even the ones he saw walking with the much older demons back in the halls of Hell, discussing things he could never understand. And powerful, more powerful than the angels he saw come down and sing 'be not afraid.' This angel glowed the gold of the first angels, ones who twisted the stars into shape.

As Steve watched, the angel turned, face twisted into a cold mask of fury, eyes still glowing a faint blue. It was too late to run. He would be smote. But there was something... wondrous about it, he thought, eyes wide, trying to take everything in before the nothing he'd surely be wrought into. This church had been damned long before now. Steve hadn't even felt a tingle at his toes from any consecration. It had been desacralized long before he'd died on the altar. The angels he'd seen were only as powerful as the ground was holy. This angel hadn't been stopped by the fact that there was nothing holy here.

"An avenger," Steve whispered as the angel faced him, spread its wings wide and high, the span wide enough that its wings were forced to curl back in against the walls. It glared at him, but he only felt an odd sense of... calm. If he died at the hands of an angel who could wipe out a sinful church full of people with black hearts in an effort to cleanse its stain on the earth, he figured yeah, he could be at peace with that.

Steve felt cool hands cupping his cheeks, tipping his head back and forth. He heard excited babbling, frantic and dismayed, but he couldn't understand the words. He didn't... feel dead. His head was fucking throbbing, though, and he groaned, loudly, to try and get whoever was on top of him to stop moving it.

The voice said something, relief practically dripping from it, and Steve forced his eyes open, blinking against the pulse of pain it caused.

The angel was on top of him. As he focused on its face, he saw it smile, relieved like he'd expected, but also self-deprecating, in a way. "There you are," it said, hands cradling his face again. "I misjudged how strong you were. I'm sorry."

"...you think I was weaker?" Steve asked faintly, feeling a thrum of angry heat in his chest.

"I thought you were stronger. Older," it corrected thoughtfully. "I thought you could withstand the blast. I needed to get you out quickly. Another moment, and the holiness sweeping back through the church would have smote you instantly. Consecration is almost instantaneous when an angel is behind it."

"...you..." Steve blinked. "Saved me?"

The angel dipped its head, eyelashes sweeping down against its cheeks. "You weren't the one poisoning this place. I wasn't sent to smite you."

Steve blinked again. He didn't know what to say. He sort of didn't believe he actually still existed. He lifted his hands to put them over the angel's.

"Oh," the angel breathed, eyes flying open wide. It looked just as full of wonder as Steve had felt, seeing its power. "I didn't know demons were so warm."

It had forgotten, Steve realized. It didn't remember a demon's touch. He was suddenly filled with confidence he probably shouldn't have had. He chalked it up to the angel apparently caring about his existence enough to get him to safety instead of being smote as an unfortunate bystander. He lifted a hand to cup the angel's cheek instead, and the angel shuddered, breath puffing out against his wrist cool and fresh from its parted lips as it looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

"You can make it up to me," Steve told it. "Once my head stops throbbing."

The angel blinked at him, a slow up-and-down of the most beautiful lashes, Steve thought. "...How would you like me to make it up to you, imp?" it asked.

If it had been anyone--anything--else, Steve would be offended. But. He knew the angel was powerful. Old. He probably did look like a young imp to it. Steve licked his lips, allowing the angel to see a hint of just how long his tongue was, and the angel let out a startled giggle that sounded like church bells, eyes crinkling with amusement.

"I see why the word 'impudent' starts with 'imp,'" the angel answered coyly.

Steve didn't allow it to demure, instead rolling on top of it and wedging the angel's thighs open with his knees, even as his vision swam and his head throbbed. Its white robes fell around it in a way that Steve could only describe as indecent, and he thought it was only because this was an angel who could easily snap him in half, but it was allowing him the position of being on top of it. "Call me Steve," he offered. He didn't want to be called imp, to be reminded of their stations. He didn't think he could follow through if he kept being called that.

The angel hummed, thoughtful, then arched its back a little with a pleased hum. "I'll call you that," it decided, spreading its wings out over its head. "Older, stronger demons have run away with their tails between their legs. You deserve the respect, I think."

"Thanks," Steve couldn't help but deadpan.

The angel offered him a cheeky smile. "You can call me Tony, Steve."

"Tony," Steve repeated quietly, rolling it around in his mouth. "I like that. Yeah, I wouldn't mind panting that in your ear."

"Panting that in my ear?" Tony repeated, brows furrowing together, before its eyes went wide and Steve had the distinct joy of watching one of the most powerful angels alive blush from its face down to its chest, the redness visible through the thin cotton of its robes. "Oh!"

"Oh," Steve agreed, reaching up to grab Tony's wrists and pin them next to its head. The angel let him, and it stoked the heat in him higher, the pulsing pain behind his eyes now an annoyance he pushed aside rather than a debilitation. Belatedly, he figured he should ask, "You're not gonna smite me for this or anything, are you?"

"Far be it from me to smite you for your innate demonic urges," Tony drawled, smirking, and twitched its hand back and forth just to show him how easy it would be to break free of his grip. It batted its eyes at him. "I like a male form, but I can switch to a female one if you like. To make it up to you."

"This is just fine," Steve promised, and then added a careful, questioning, "Sir?"

"You don't have to call me sir, beloved," Tony purred, wings fluttering against the ground. "Just because I'm old, it doesn't mean I adhere to the social hierarchy." Then it blinked, surprised, before letting out another bell-toll giggle and added, "I don't hold to any of those pronoun conventions either. Call me as you see me."

"I'll call you mine," Steve offered, and Tony threw his head back, laughing with delight. Steve didn't know how to tell him he wasn't being cheeky. He suddenly and irrevocably wanted nothing but the angel beneath him.

He pushed it aside. Meeting angels as powerful as Tony was were a once-in-a-lifetime event, especially among demons as young as he. Instead, he leaned down, pressed his mouth to Tony's, shivering as the angel gasped cool and wet against it. He wondered if Tony's shiver was because of how hot he felt. Hoped it was.

The cry Tony let out as Steve ripped his robes from the top down to the bottom sounded like ecstasy already, and Steve wasted no time pressing against him from shoulder to hip just to hear Tony moan and flap his wings uselessly.

#ideas #stony #lemon?#demon steve #angel tony

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starry-eyes-love · 10 months

Text

Marriage Dynamics- Relaxin' is Hard Work

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairings: Husband Joel Miller x F!Reader (18+ Minors DNI) AU, No outbreak

Summary | Joel takes the day off to spend it with you. You take him to a salon for a couples pedicure and massage, but somehow your wires get crossed and instead of spending the afternoon relaxing, you spend the afternoon working on improving communication in your marriage. Reader mentions she's pregnant, but is too scared to admit it to her husband. Joel eventually figures it out.

Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI. Husband and wife marriage dynamics, age gap (he's 52 and she's 37), language, light smut (reader gets handsy in public), Joel whimpers at her touching him (it needs its own warning), arguments with angst at times, reader berates herself, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, reader over thinks things (a lot), terms of endearment used (baby, babe, honey, mama, Angel, etc.), slight flirtatious behavior (what can I say, Joel loves his wife), Joel tickles his wife (it needs its own warning), fluffy parts sprinkled in here and there, reference and descriptions of pregnancy, references to unplanned pregnancy, female reader briefly mentions past abuse with father (yet no in-depth specifics are given), mentions of body issues and body descriptions, mentions of feeling ill (female reader gets sick and vomits in garbage can). Think I got them all. Enjoy :)

Word Count: 6.1k

“Ok sexy mama, I'll get my toes painted” he commented, while reaching down and tickling your belly to hear you laugh some more. You started squealing and squirming as he tickled your stomach, a ticklish spot you had. Joel loved to hear you squeal and break out in a fit of laughter. The more he heard it the more his heart swelled large in his chest and the tighter his pants got in the front. It had been a long time since…

Joel stood there next to you at the counter glancing over all the items that were there, thinking to himself, why do I get myself in these predicaments with her? Here he was taking the day off from work to spend it with you, something that doesn't happen very often. You promised him a fun, relaxing day together. However, as he watched you pay for a couples massage and pedicure, he thought this is not my idea of fun nor relaxin’.

Earlier that Day

"Darlin', I'm not sure about this," he said as you pulled up to the salon.

"Come on Joel, you're always griping about how your back and feet hurt. Now you can take care of them," you replied while parking the car.

You watched him rub the back of his neck awkwardly saying "I know baby, but me, a pedicure? I mean come on, I thought we were gonna do something fun.”

"Joel, you're gonna love it, trust me.”

Joel just glared at you as he slowly ground his teeth while releasing a long exhale. He was trying to figure out how he could get out of doing this.

“Babe, you'll really relax doing this.” You said, trying to get him to see reason.

“No I won't Angel. This-” Joel said, waving his hand towards the salon, “is just plain silly. Sure for you it's fun and relaxin’, but for me, it's just silly. If the guys at the construction site ever saw this-”

“The guys at the construction site, is that what you're really concerned about? The guys?”

“Babe, you don't understand.”

“Yeah I get it Joel. God forbid you spend a day with your wife doing something relaxing. How embarrassing that would be for you.” You replied, letting anger seep into your words.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh saying “Nevermind, ya don't understand.”

You instantly felt a sting of jealousy at his concern, that being seen with his wife would cause him extreme discomfort. Joel hardly saw you anymore, and he never had a problem doing this stuff with you in the past. In a defeated tone you said, “Fine Joel, I get it. This is silly. But babe, we don't get to spend any time together.”

“And you thought that this was the best way to do it? A damn pedicure? Where the hell does this say ‘Joel Miller would love this,’ huh?” You watched him shake his head and look out the passenger window frustrated.

You felt your internal walls go up, wanting to shut down. To close yourself off from people who hurt you. You wanted to retreat back into the darkness of your mind, not allow anyone in again. You've struggled in life for far too long with this concept of not allowing others in. Joel was the only man who could break down those walls, and now you were struggling not to push him out.

In the past Joel used to do fun little things like this with you, even if they were silly. Hell, he was the first person to introduce you to the world of pedicures and massages when he dated you. It was the best activity the two of you could do with his young preteen daughter when he couldn't find a babysitter. You never minded back then as you just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend. You remember one time you were a little hesitant and Joel eased your nerves by saying ‘Come on darlin.' It doesn't matter what the guys at the construction site or anyone else says. I wanna spend time with you. I know this seems silly, but it'll be relaxin’. I can promise you that, so trust me.’ You found yourself repeating those exact same words to Joel now, begging with your eyes for him to remember.

“Honey, that's the dumbest excuse I've ever heard as to why we should do this. Whoever said that to you was a liar and an idiot” he told you, shaking his head and laughing hard. You quickly looked away and felt the red hot burn in the back of your throat start. He didn't remember his time with you.

Joel had hardly been home for the past year. His business, Miller Contracting, signed the biggest contract in history about a year ago out of town. Joel was making a large amount of money, his business skyrocketing almost overnight after years of struggle. You, being his wife, were so proud of him, for his ability to never have to struggle with his business again. He had work lined up for the next 3 years for this big development company, and then he just recently signed two more large contracts for other companies. Joel finally had steady work for many more years to come. You knew that Joel Miller was finally set for life with his business. But you couldn't say the same thing for your marriage.

Joel used to do all these silly little things with you. It's what made hard times bearable in the past. But ever since a year ago your husband's attitude has changed. In the past year you felt like you had gone from Joel's loving wife, to a ‘thing’ or an ‘it’ to him.

“I guess you're right,” you said, looking out the window at the salon. You were trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to come at the realization that life was different now. “I don't know what else we could do at the last minute.”

“Yeah, m’ither” Joel said while picking lint off his jeans and refusing to look at you in the face anymore.

“Joel, do you still want to do something with me today?” You waited in silence as he stared out the window, not answering you.

“Joel” you said a little bit louder, still trying for a connection. But yet again, no answer. Uncomfortable silence continued for several minutes, neither one of you uttering a single word. Finally, Joel broke first by exhaling loudly. He then closed his eyes and rested his head against the seat's headrest.

“Joel, are you still with me honey?” you asked one last time. When silence continued, that's when you understood that you had failed miserably at trying to have a fun and relaxing day.

“I'll just take you home then, leave you alone, and let you rest.” You mumbled out loud, more to yourself. “God y/n, why are you so fucking stupid. If he didn't want to do stuff with you before, he sure as hell won't want to do anything with you now. Stupid, stupid, silly girl.”

What you didn't realize was that you verbalized your internal turmoil, and the man sitting next to you heard it. Joel hated hearing you berate yourself, a bad habit that you picked up from your father and your father's now divorced ex-wife. Joel knew that he was the cause of your current stress and anxiety. After all, he was the asshole who was never home and when he was, you two were always arguing and fighting all the time. Sure, you’ve had some amazing days like Halloween night and a promise of a week ago in the car, something that he never followed through with because he got called away to deal with shit at work. He was failing you as your partner and your husband, but most of all he was failing you as your best friend. You were his best friend, the only person that he loved spending time with. It was just today he didn’t feel up to this silly stuff you wanted to do. He knew he was the one who introduced you to this stuff with Sarah all those years ago, and that today you were just reaching for familiar territory.

Joel sat there with his eyes closed and continued to listen to you berate yourself out loud. Why does she fucking do this to herself, she knows better, he thought. He was just about to open his mouth and yell at you to knock it off when he heard you whisper “Baby, I don’t know how to tell your daddy that you’re in there. How can I when your daddy and I can't seem to find common ground anymore.”

As soon as he heard your little admission, at the potential of you being pregnant again, Joel snapped his eyes open and looked over at you. How did I not notice this, he thought. He immediately started scanning over your body, looking for any signs that he may have missed. When he stopped and really looked at you he saw them. Your black t-shirt sat more snug around your chest, he could see that your breasts were slightly swollen. Your curves were more profound, not from fat, but from water weight he suspected. Your tummy, a little pouch forming low on your belly. That's a baby, he thought. His baby, the one he put there on Halloween night. You always started to show really early on in your pregnancy. According to your doctor it was extra water weight, but to Joel it was a sign of life. Something that he hasn’t seen your body do for many years, considering your youngest boy was now seven.

Joel continued to trail his eyes slowly back up your features. He noticed the dark circles underneath your eyes. You weren’t sleeping and that worried him. You two had lost a baby before when you were 22 weeks along, a little girl that came a year before your youngest boy. He had given you two boys, but he knew you always wanted to try again for a little girl. But somehow life got in the way and you two never tried for a girl again. He was hoping this time around it was a girl.

With remembering your past pregnancies, Joel wondered how you were feeling. He knew the first stages of pregnancy were hard on you. You’d hardly sleep or eat, nausea being the worst culprit. With Joshua, your youngest, you could hardly keep anything down during the entire pregnancy. God, he hoped that wasn’t your fate now. At least he was making enough money to cover all the living expenses, in case you weren't able to work through it like before.

Joel then allowed his eyes to roam higher up to your eyes, that's when he saw that they were bloodshot. You were crying and berating yourself because of how he made a stupid comment, that he was embarrassed being seen with you at doing a pedicure. Jesus Joel, you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes, he thought.

He sat there and watched you for a moment, at your struggle to try to stop the tears that were falling from your eyes. Seeing this, hearing your confession and actually looking at you, at how stressed out you were made his heart ache. He hated to see you cry, and yet you've been doing that a lot recently, thanks to him.

"Come on, darlin,'’ you heard Joel say. “My back and feet don't have all day. Let's get this salon pampering day started.”

"Joel it's ok, we don't have to-" you said, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"No," he said. "It's a perfect idea honey, the best way to relax. I'm so sorry for snapping. I'm just- fuck baby, I'm stressed and struggling to find a proper balance between both worlds. Now come on darlin.’” Joel said, while giving your hand a tender kiss. As you both walked towards the salon, Joel gently intertwined his fingers with yours. He gave small soothing strokes with his thumb, reassuring you that he was here and present for you.

Soon Joel found himself staring at a wall with different colors of nail polish. He was being directed by you to choose a color that he wanted his toes to be painted with. "Darlin', the lady at the counter said I don't need to pick out colored nail polish."

"Tough cowboy, you're doing it. Plus it'll show support to women everywhere if you do." You tried your hardest to give him a convincing answer of why you wanted him to do this. He just looked at you and smirked, seeing straight through your attempt.

“Supportin' women has nothin' to do with it. Ya just want to laugh at me, that's all." He said, shaking his head at your attempt with reasoning with him. Why do I always get myself in these situations with her? But as he glanced over he saw you smiling ear to ear. You were practically jumping for joy at the thought of having a couples massage and couples pedicure with him. That's when he knew that all of this was worth it, especially if he could see you look happy and smile like that again.

As you were wiggling in Joel's arms laughing you happened to accidentally brush your hand up against his clothed crotch, and that's when you felt it, a firm prominent bulge. As soon as your hand brushed up against him you heard Joel let out a hiss at the sensation. He then gently nudged his hips against your hand while giving you a little whimper.

“Joel, how long has it been?” you asked, slowly palming him in the front. You were concerned, Joel was never this sensitive to sensation before and he's never whimpered like that just by the meer push of your palm. Oh, poor baby, you thought, you weren't the only one who had been neglected. You palmed him harder, trying to show him what you wanted. You felt him twitch and throb beneath you. “Baby, how long?” you whispered, pushing harder with your hand as he rutted up into you, seeking out more friction.

“Too long,” he panted. “It's been too fucking long since I, since we, fuck woman” he growled and snapped his hips forward, desperately seeking pleasure from you. He wanted to open his pants and tell you to get down on your knees and to suck his cock. He wanted to fuck your mouth so bad, then bend you over one of those salon chairs and bury himself inside of you. He wanted to show you he could be the man you needed, and be the father for your children. He wanted to put a baby inside of your nice soft-

“Baby, when was your last period?” Joel said, stopping his movements and racing mind for a moment. When you didn't answer he continued by saying “I don't remember when you had your period last. Have you had one in the last two months?”

“Don't worry about it” you said, while slowly pulling your hand away. This was not a conversation you wanted to have right now.

You walked over to the side, a few feet away from Joel and you were pretending to look at the colors of nail polish. What you were really doing was trying to slow your pounding heart in your chest. Joel approached you and slowly started to stroke your little bump saying “how late are we talking mama, huh?”

“Joel it's only 10 am and-”

“S'not what I meant sugar and you know it. Come on mama, how far along are we?” Joel said, flattening his palm over your belly and holding it there.

You looked into your husband's eyes and saw compassion behind them. You were just about to open your mouth and tell him that you were 3 weeks late when someone said “Y/n and Joel Miller, they're ready for you.”

As soon as you heard them call your names you backed away and grabbed the purple nail polish that was right in front of you. It reminded you of the first time you did this all those years ago with Sarah and him. It made you smile at the warm memory. This one is perfect, you thought. You handed it to Joel saying “I think this color would look great for the both of us.”

When Joel looked down he saw that the nail polish was purple with sparkles in it, your favorite color. When he glanced at your face he saw uncertainty in your eyes at the events that just played out. So with a grin and a squeeze from his large hand he grabbed the jar from you and said “Ok, purple it is. Now come on mama, let's go and get you nice and relaxed.”

Three hours later Joel was slowly relaxing. He was laying on his stomach, purple sparkly toe nails poking through the blanket, as a very attractive woman worked the hell out of his shoulders. Kiara, Joel's masseuse, was an expert in deep tissue massage. After the staff found out that he basically was one big hard tight knot, he was advised that deep tissue massage would be the best option.

"Aw darlin' right there," Joel said as Kiara worked on his lower back.

"Mr. Miller, you're so stiff and tight. It's gonna take me a bit to work you fully out. Does it feel better when I press right here?" Kiara asked, pushing on Joel's lower back, a place you knew turned your husband on.

"Ah yeah, right there" Joel grunted at the sensation.

You were on your own massage table being worked on by Fredrick, a middle aged man with a beer gut. While Joel had Kiara, a 42 year old big breasted, fully fit porn star looking woman. You know, the type of women your husband likes to look at when he's browsing those adult only sites.

As you continued to watch Kiara flirt with your husband, you felt your insecurities creep up into your skull, worrying you. You had no idea if Joel would be ok with this unplanned pregnancy. You knew the old Joel would be ok with it. But now you had no idea how he'd react, especially with how he has behaved this past year. The longer this went on, the more your irrational fears seeped deep into your subconscious.

When Joel moaned for the third time in less than five minutes at Kiara asking him if something felt good, you found yourself snapping at your husband. "Joel, for the love of God, can you please just shut the hell up? Really, no one wants to hear how good it feels to have someone else touch you." You didn't know why, but you were upset, angry, and hurt all at the same time. Somehow hearing someone else pull those little sighs or grunts out of your husband bothered the hell out of you.

"Look here woman, I'm enjoying myself, ok? Your fault for making me do this. So pull back the attitude now." He said, snapping at you.

After a moment he added, "What's with your attitude anyways today, huh?"

"I don't know Joel, why don't you tell me."

"Look here missy, I don't know what's up your ass today. But whatever it is, it can just stop. Don't ruin this for me with your petty bullshit. Got it?" he said, with a warning in his voice.

"Petty bullshit, really? Are you kidding me Joel? You promised me you’d spend time with me today. And-”

“And what y/n? What more could you possibly want from me today than what I’m already giving you?”

When you didn't open your mouth to argue, Joel assumed the problem was solved. That you'd stop throwing your little temper tantrum. But what he didn't realize was that the emotion you were now feeling wasn't one of defiance. You were feeling neglected and you didn't want to do this day anymore. You thought you could have a fun day with your husband, like you used to when you two dated. But now, you just wanted to go home, and pretend that today and this past year never happened. You wanted your husband to be around, present more, and not treat you like you were someone who was a burden or a checkmark on a list. You wanted to pretend that your husband still cared.

When you counted it up, it had been almost two months since you and Joel had sex last. To make matters worse, your period was almost 3 weeks late. You were worried about what he'd say when he found out. You were pregnant, that much was evident on the pregnancy test that you had taken over a week ago. You knew that your fears right now were irrational, that you were just making something out of nothing. But to you your fears felt very real. And with Joel smiling and laughing so easily with Kiara, it made your stomach hurt and twist in knots at the thought that he didn't want you anymore.

You were so lost in your own head, that you didn’t notice that Fredrick had stopped massaging your back. He could sense how tense your body was, and the turmoil of feelings that you were feeling. "Mrs. Miller, are you ok?" he whispered. When you didn’t respond to him right away, he said louder “Mrs. Miller, are you ok?”

As soon as Joel heard the question from Fredrick he snapped his head to the side to look at you. When he saw you, you were laying face down, your hand up by your mouth as you were sobbing into the table. “Baby, are you ok?” Joel asked, worried and concerned of what made you fall apart like this.

"Yeah, I'm. I'm fine” you said, trying not to have your voice break. “Can you um- can you please excuse me. I gotta- I don’t feel well.” You then got up, and walked into the changing room that was attached, tears still streaming down your face.

As Joel watched you walk away he knew this little adventure the two of you were having today was over with. He apologized to Kiara and Fredrick, stating that the both of you would be leaving early. As he went to his own dressing room to get dressed, he started thinking to himself. He knew that you were stressed out a lot, and that the two of you were having problems. He also knew that you just wanted a day to relax with him, so seeing you like this broke his heart. You have cried a lot recently and he could understand why, but it still bothered him. He didn't mean to snap at you today, he was just stressed out himself. He began to realize though that his stressors and your stressors were drastically different.

Something was up with you, that much was certain. You were more sensitive and emotional recently. If he attempted to ask you about it, you'd just blow up at him. Usually when you were more emotional it meant that you were by or on your period. But Joel was confused, especially with seeing those other bodily signs that you were having. Were you pregnant and he just didn't see it? Or were you having flare ups of your gynecological problems again and he wasn't noticing it. He was so busy with work that he didn't remember if you had your period yet, that's why he asked you earlier today. He was trying to calm his own irrational fears of being an inattentive husband.

The problem was he didn't know what was off or how to fix it with you. If your admission earlier was true, that you were in fact pregnant, then why did you hide it from him and not tell him? Were you embarrassed in carrying his child? Joel was lost in thought, trying to figure out what he could do that he almost missed hearing you get sick in the other room. As soon as he heard the telltale signs of you throwing up he muttered to himself “shit,” and finished getting dressed.

While Joel was in his dressing room getting lost in thought, you were in yours doing the same thing. You quietly dressed in your changing room, trying to calm the tears that were flowing. As you looked down you noticed the little bump you had. You kept trying to flatten your shirt overtop of it, to hide it from the world. You weren’t upset that you were pregnant, you were just overwhelmed at the moment and didn't want to think about it. But the more you tried to suck in your gut, to flatten your shirt, you started to slowly panic. You tried tucking in your shirt, then you untucked it, nothing worked to hide what was growing inside of you. You couldn't hide the embarrassment of getting pregnant from a man who you didn’t think wanted you anymore. In your experience, which was limited, an unplanned pregnancy when there were marital problems never resulted in a happy ending for the mother or wife. As this realization hit you, you felt the bile rise up fast in your throat. Your hands were shaking, and you were drowning in your own irrational fears and anxiety. Worst part, no matter what you did you couldn't calm yourself down.

Tears began to flow hard again from your eyes as you tried anything to stop the anxiety from swallowing you whole. You felt like you were suffocating, drowning in a pool of uneasiness. Your vision went fuzzy, your ears started to ring, and the whole world started to spin on its axis. You reached out and were fumbling around the room, trying to find something to grab onto to center yourself. As soon as you grabbed the garbage can your knees buckled and you collapsed. Your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt the bile rise up fast again in your throat. You grabbed the garbage can just in time as your body heaved the entire contents out of your stomach into the trash.

You were retching so hard into the garbage, shaking with panic as tears flowed down your face that you never heard the door open and a man approach you. Your anxiety was swallowing you whole and you said with a breathless plea to yourself, in-between vomiting sessions, that you were scared and couldn't do this anymore. Then like a miracle from heaven, you felt those familiar rough hands gently reach out and center you once again.

When Joel entered the room his heart sank at seeing you collapsed on the ground and retching into the garbage can. You were pleading for someone to help you, to make the pain and anxiety stop. You were drowning in your own anxiety and it broke his heart. No one hurts my babies, he thought, especially him.

Joel slowly walked up to you and gently reached out to gather your hair into his hands. After he pulled it back from your face he placed one of his hands gently on your tummy, while whispering “Shh, mama. Take a breath. Come on now, you’re okay. I'm right here and I ain’t leavin’. Shhh.” He continued to rub soothing circles on your belly, right where the little bump was. When you were finished emptying the contents of your stomach Joel grabbed a towel and gently wiped your mouth saying “well, I thought that wasn’t gonna happen for a while yet.”

“What?” you said, confused, feeling completely worn out by today’s events.

“Baby, you do a bad job at hiding it.” Joel said with a smirk on his lips.

“Joel, I don’t know what you’re-” and then it dawned on you, he heard you. He heard your admission in the car that you were pregnant. As soon as that realization hit you, Joel watched your eyes go wide as you started to shake your head violently back and forth. You stood up and immediately started backing away from him, eyes blown wide with anxiety and panic once again.

Joel slowly stood up and watched you as realization took hold of you of your earlier admission. “Baby, take a breath for me, ok?” he said, trying to calm the fear and panic that you had. As he slowly approached you he said “sugar you gotta slow your breathing down, come here, let me help you.” He slowly reached out to you so you could center yourself.

“No, no, no. You can't know, I can't do this alone. Please God, why is this happening to me?” you said out loud, not wanting the world to fall apart around you. You didn’t want this discussion now, not when you didn’t know what you could do. You didn’t want him to kick you out, to say that you disappointed him, that you were a disappointment. Joel never said those words to you, your father did when he found out that you were dating his best friend. And the way your father dealt with it was to kick you out of the house, after he berated you in front of Joel. You knew Joel wasn't your father, but in this moment your father’s voice and Joel’s voice blurred together in your head.

When you felt your back hit the wall you knew that your running was over. You had to face the man in front of you, whether or not you wanted to. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your chest, hanging your head low when the sob that you’ve been holding back all day finally broke free from your chest and swallowed you whole. Your knees buckled and you started to fall to the floor like a ton of bricks sobbing hysterically saying “I can't be homeless again. I can't do this abuse again.”

Joel wasn't trying to scare you, he just wanted to center you and stop you from spiraling out of control. But when he saw your knees buckle he said “shit” and moved fast to catch you. He then wrapped his big arms around you, and pulled you tight to his chest as you let out all of the anxiety and frustration of the last several weeks.

“Come on now little one, don’t cry” he said, calling you a nickname he hasn’t called you for a long time.

“I’m sorry Joel, I’m sorry” you kept saying, as you let out all of your pent up anxiety.

“No. Come on baby, don’t say that. You got nothin’ to be sorry for. Let's slow your breathing down, yeah? Alright little one, how ‘bout you breathe with me.” He said, speaking softly into your ear. You felt him slowly lower his hand to the small of your back, rubbing tiny circles on your skin, attempting to quiet your tears. You also started to match his breathing with long inhales and slow exhales.

After listening to him breathe and matching his breathing for a while he slowly lowered his hand to your belly and gently started stroking it. You then heard Joel whisper in your ear, “I love you baby, no matter what. I need you to know that I’ll never leave you, no matter what. Ok?”

When you didn’t respond he took a step back, bent down and looked you straight in the eyes. You nodded your head slightly, attempting a weak smile as you finally had calmed yourself down. He stared at you for a moment, assessing your features to see if you truly were done with your panic attack or if you still were in it. When he realized that you weren’t going into another one, he gently tucked you into his side and whispered “ok mama, how ‘bout we get you home so you can lay down and relax. You've had a tough day honey.”

After a few silent minutes of gathering your things together, eventually the two of you started to walk for the exit of the changing room. Before you exited the doorway you said “Joel um- I got something I wanna say.”

Joel stopped and looked down at you, gently nodding his head. This was it, the moment you were going to say that you were pregnant. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You started to panic and overthink things again. What happens if he’s mad at me and yells at me again? You were silently having an internal tug-o-war with yourself.

Inside Joel was frustrated with himself that you couldn’t be honest with him. He was silently scolding himself for creating this environment in which you didn’t feel 100% comfortable with talking with him. Something that he promised himself that he would change, starting right now. As he stood there and watched you play tug-o-war with your mind, he tried to give you the warm environment of being relaxed, yet his own stomach was churning and twisting itself into knots.

“Joel, uh-”

“Yes darlin’” he said, coaxing you gently to speak.

“I- uh. Shit.” you couldn’t do it, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t say the words ‘Joel I’m pregnant.’

Joel could see that you weren't ready, but he wanted to give you the reassurance that you needed. He reached his hand out and gently placed it on your belly, on top of the little bump and said “I know mama, it's scary. You can tell me in your own time when you feel comfortable, yeah? Just know that no matter what, I love you.”

He gently kissed the top of your head, and with a smile he ushered you out towards the front desk. He sent you out to the car to relax as he squared away the fees for you being sick. When he got back into the car he groaned for a moment at the feeling of his back tightening up again.

“I don’t get how ya women think this is relaxin’.” He said, looking over at the salon as he put the car in reverse. “My back feels like it’s in a million more knots now. Shit.”

With a small smirk you said “Joys of deep tissue massage honey.”

“Yeah well, I feel like I went 20 rounds with that damn massage table. It kicked my ass good and hard too. This relaxin’ stuff is hard work hon.” Joel said, slightly groaning while having another back spasm.

“No, I just think it means that you're an old grumpy man,” you said, nonchalantly.

Joel was stopped at the light, waiting for it to turn green. He glanced over at you, eyes wide at your statement of him being an old grumpy man. “S’not funny babe,” he grumbled.

“Well honey, it's the truth” you whispered, as you softly kissed his cheek. “At least we know this still works” you added, giving him a playful bite to his ear as you gently cupped your husband's crotch. You palmed him for a moment and felt him slowly enlarge at your words.

“Does that feel good baby?” You asked in a sultry tone, as you slowly stroked your husband's cock through his jeans.

“Ya already know it does,” he said, in a husky voice.

You gave him one more chaste kiss and a firm squeeze before you removed your hand. As you slowly turned your head to look out the window you felt your husband's hand on your thigh. He was rubbing small soothing circles there. It was his way of reassuring you that he cared and was still here for you. You lightly grabbed his hand and placed it firmly against your lower tummy, humming as he began to stroke your little bump there too. You couldn't verbalize it to him yet, but this was your silent way of reassuring him that you were in fact pregnant.

Joel melted into this touch, the feel of your little bump, of his baby growing inside of you. This small simple measure finally calmed his fears. He knew that you loved him and that he loved you. No matter what he was going to be there for you and help you through this. Even though he was 52, and you were 37, and having an unexpected pregnancy was never ideal. Joel loved you and this little baby more than anything. As he silently rubbed your tummy he thought to himself everything is gonna be alright. And I can't believe that I'm gonna be a dad again ❤️

-End Part 3 Prologue-

A/N: More will come in the future with these two (proper chapters) as we take them through their pregnancy journey together. If you're interested in reading their origin story, make sure to check out the other series titled Love Never Fails coming out January 2024.

Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346 @nandan11 @swiftpascal @eliza-8 @joeldjarin @vickie5446 @nastiasnow @staywildflowahchild @ratoonstown @l3lazeit @its-always-420-on-the-moon @kirsteng42

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