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#just shopping took a lot out of me earlier
goldenpeng · 11 months
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I'm still sick and rather "sick" of it. I'll still need to drag my ass to the library today, but I fully intend on chilling for the rest of the day. Hoping to get some writing done here and on yunarise!! I'm having lots of muse and want to make use of it.
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wutheringmights · 7 months
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#my digestive issues are literally under the most control they have ever been in my life and they are still ruining my life#woke up fine today. went to a coffee shop. had to leave after an hour#i had so many plans for today and now i'm stuck at home because i can't be too far away from a bathroom#i didn't eat anything that would trigger this. my gut just hates me i guess#earlier this month i have a risk food but i thought i took enough precautions to be safe and it fucked me up for like#2 weeks straight#i wonder what its like for people to not have to wonder about bathroom access every time they leave the house#i wonder what its like to eat normal foods without calculating how sick its going to make you#i wonder what its like to not have entire plans tossed out the window for reasons beyond your control#fucking sucks man#i hate ibs#in exchange for my terrible gut i do have a fantastic immune system somehow but weirdly that means i never take time off work?#ok so i am so good at just managing my issues that i just power through whenever im sick.#it's not like i can afford to take time off whenever i feel sick anyway and besides once you have to take multiple AP tests in high school#while in the middle of an episode you grow a lot of tolerance for being functional while sick#but then. i just i could have excuses to take days off because i have a cold or something. get a rest every now and then#but what illnesses i get beyond digestion issues are so slight that i can just. power through. i am never ill enough to take time off#and i get so worried that one day I will need that PTO that I can't convince myself to use it for like mental health days and ugh#this is more of a personal problem than anything but still. i wish i got sick like a normal person
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pathologicalreid · 3 months
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hotchner!reader (hotch’s daughter) who’s married/dating Spencer, and then telling her dad she’s pregnant, lots of fluff please!! :)<3
goads and goats | S.R.
telling your dad (who is also your boss) you're having a baby ends in him giving spencer a hard time
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: accidental pregnancy, missed period, hotchner!reader, pregnant!reader, not proofread, dad!hotch, established relationship word count: 1.01k a/n: i have been so down and out about writing recently but i had so much fun writing this. i firmly believe that if spencer was dating hotch's daughter hotch would never let that man have a moment of peace.
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“He’s going to throttle me,” your boyfriend announced mournfully, holding the door open for you to enter headquarters, the two of you flashing your badges at security before passing through the metal detectors together.
Rolling your eyes, you reached your hand out and nearly dragged him into the elevator with you. He had been digging his heels in the mud all morning, even going so far as to propose playing hooky, which you were fairly certain he had never done in the history of ever. “He is not going to throttle you. I mean, just imagine the HR implications,” you gently chastised, watching Spencer as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Hey,” you said, standing in front of him, you placed a hand on his chest, “We don’t have to tell him today, you know. It could be our little secret for a while.”
Quicker than you expected, Spencer shook his head, “Of course, we have to tell him today. What would happen if you got sent out into the field?” He self-consciously readjusted the strap of his shoulder bag before looking up to watch the floor numbers rise as the elevator went up, “If we didn’t tell him because of my own reservations and then something happened to you, it’d… I’d…”
Your chest clenched as his voice trailed off and you thought of the positive pregnancy tests that were still sitting on your bathroom counter. The tiny wad of cells that had been settling in your womb for weeks without your knowledge – until Spencer asked if you needed pads while you had been grocery shopping – was already so loved.
The first test had come back with such a faint line that you convinced yourself it was just a shadow of an indent on the fragile plastic, but the test you took this morning had been glaringly positive. Slowly, you reached out and took Spencer’s hand, intertwining your fingers as the door to the elevator opened and the two of you stepped out together, “Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, he nodded while holding the glass door to the bullpen open for you, glancing up, you saw that your dad’s office door was open. As soon as you set your things at your desk, you looked at Spencer, nodding up the steps, figuring it was better to do this now than wait.
By Spencer’s math, you were approximately five weeks pregnant, much earlier than people usually elect to share their news. Still, both of you immediately decided it was in your best interest to let your dad know right away.
Leading the way, you knocked on the heavy wooden door to get his attention, his head snapped up in the direction of the noise, shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw it was you, likely having thought a case was being brought in. “Do you have a second?” You asked softly, nerves creeping up as your father waved the both of you in.
“For you, of course,” he responded, nodding at Spencer in acknowledgment before watching suspiciously as the two of you sat in the chairs in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?” He asked, watching you fold and unfold your hands in your lap, it didn’t help that Spencer looked like he had been called into the principal’s office.
You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong, Dad. We just needed to have a chat,” you told him.
Frowning, his curiosity deepened, “A chat?” Hotch questioned the word that wasn’t a frequent flyer in your lexicon.
“A talk?” You tried again meekly, knowing that he’d start making his own conclusions if you didn’t say something soon.
He looked over at your boyfriend, “If it’s just a talk then why is Reid avoiding eye contact?”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled heavily, “We should’ve waited,” you muttered to no one in particular.
“Waited for what, exactly? You’re not splitting up, are you?” He inquired, likely developing a list of forms that would need to be filled out if the two of you had in fact broken up.
You waved your hand aimlessly in the air. It seemed that neither of you had fully understood how hard it would be to announce your accidental pregnancy to your father and your boss simultaneously.
Since neither of you spoke, your father continued, “I’m obligated to side with my daughter. Which isn’t solely based on my belief that she can do no wrong, but if-“
“I’m pregnant,” you blurted, clamping your hand over your mouth as if you could recapture the words that had flown from your lips.
What followed was the silence that you had dreaded. Weren’t people supposed to jump for joy in situations like this? However, the moment Hotch jumped for joy for anything would likely end in someone being institutionalized.
Slowly, you dropped your hand from your mouth, watching your father as if he were a ticking time bomb.
“Is this a good thing?” He asked, finally shattering the wall of silence that had been put up.
Your eyes widened as you looked between your father and your boyfriend, “Oh, yes! We’re very happy,” you clarified, bracing your hands on the armrests of your chair.
Finally, your dad smiled and stood up from his desk chair, waving you over and enveloping you in a hug, “Then congratulations,” he told you, pulling away slightly, “How long have you known?”
You looked back at Spencer, who was standing up beside you and looking decidedly less nervous, “About ten hours,” he answered for the both of you.
Releasing you, your father looked your boyfriend up and down, “You should probably get married before the baby arrives,” he suggested. You recognized the mischievous look on his face – you frequently sported the same look.
“Right, of course,” Spencer said, straightening his posture behind you, nerves once again emanating from him.
You held a hand up, “An incredibly bold statement considering I was in your wedding,” you peered at your father.
Ignoring you, your dad continued, “So, we should settle on a dowry.”
“Dad!”
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hildergard · 2 months
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Could you do something where Aemond is already married/betrothed to a highborn lady that’s been approved by Alicent and Otto but he has a relationship with a low born woman (a brothel worker or any lowborn really) and once he becomes Prince Regent he starts bringing her around the castle, giving her a room to herself, treating her better than how a lowborn should be treated in Alicent and Ottos eyes and they don’t like it but Aemond doesn’t care.
MINE TO PROTECT ★ AEMOND TARGARYEN
PAIRING | Aemond Targaryen x Lowborn!Reader
TAGS | Suggestive content, swearing, possessive behaviour, classism
WORDCOUNT | 4k
NOTE | I have seen a lot of fanfictions where the Reader is a brothel worker so I made her a baker instead. I hope that's alright with you! Thank you so much for this great request! I had so much fun writing it <333
likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!
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In the seedy streets of Flea Bottom, rumours travelled in a precise order, memorised by all.
A Lord, drunk with lust, would disclose the Crown’s secrets to a simpering whore, who would be quick⏤once the gold dragons were in her purse⏤to repeat what she had just heard, noble semen still running down her thighs. The other, much less wealthy, customers would then talk about it loudly in bars, attracting the attention of patrons who, once sober, had only to spread the news.
Today, the rumour burst into your little shop when Old Gerald came through the door, looking for his daily loaf of bread. 
 “Prince Aemond’s been made Regent," he said. 
For a second, you did not move. The dough fell on wood. Your floured hands remained stuck in the sticky, flabby mixture. It would have to be kneaded again. The sight of your dirty fingers woke you from your torpor. You gripped the towel from your apron and wiped your palms roughly before turning your back on your customer⏤less to get the fresh loaves of bread out of the oven than to regain your composure.
He had done it. 
Your shovel rasped against the burning slab of clay and peeled off the loaves. 
A few days earlier, when night had enveloped the citizens of King's Landing in its thick cloak, he had told you of his plans and dreams⏤the two were always intertwined, for Aemond Targaryen provoked fate rather than waited for it. His touch had done nothing to soften the brutality of his words. Sordid tales of fire and blood, the kind that filled the tomes of the Citadel. 
Even the Targaryens could not play with fire indefinitely. Aemond rose in the flames. For how much longer? You had protested, your voice hoarse from the moans he had managed to draw from your throat, but he would have none of it and simply told you to trust him, as if all this were far too complicated for you. 
And perhaps that was the case, for what did you know of war and power?
“What about his Majesty?" you asked.
Old Gerald tossed you three coppers, which you pocketed, before handing you a thick piece of cloth. 
“They say he perished in dragonfire. Seems Targaryens are closer to men, after all. With all this quarrel for t'throne, it were inevitable. And, let me tell you, it'll happen again. Today, a brother sits on t'throne. Tomorrow, it'll be an uncle or a sister. Things like that never end.”
You carefully wrapped the golden loaf in the cloth. 
“Wi' Rhaenyra in Dragonstone and his brother's heir dead, he’ll no doubt be crowned King. And the Lady Baratheon, Queen.”
You winced at the name but immediately hid your reaction with a tight smile. Gerald, bless him, took no notice of your torment. You handed the loaf of bread to the old cobbler, who nodded at you and returned to his shoes. 
The rumour ran on and kept you thinking all day. You burnt a dozen loaves of bread, spilt two sacks of flour and forgot to deliver her apple pies to Dorthy Porter, making you lose a silver stag and a customer.
When the key finally turned in the lock of the shop and cut you off from the rest of the world, your shoulders slumped. The sun and all its problems gave way to the moon. Under its silvery eyes, other rumours would no doubt spread but you did not wish to hear them. You longed for your straw mattress and the comfort of your dreams⏤perhaps your love would visit you there, also freed from the pressure the Gods were piling on his shoulders. 
Tiredness weakened your knees⏤you dragged your body more than you climbed the stairs to your modest bedroom. In the middle of the room, the bed and its pillow stretched out its arms to you. You let yourself fall into the feathery embrace and closed your eyes for a moment, praying to the Gods that you would find sleep easily. 
They ignored you. 
The doorbell rang. 
Your eyelids struggled to open. Sleep paralysed them⏤it clutched at your eyelashes and tried to keep them closed but you fought the temptation and, at last, gazed into the dim light of the room. Another series of blows, more hurried, struck against the wood. The whole  shop seemed to shake. 
“I’m coming, I'm coming…” you mumbled. 
You gasped as two members of the Kingsguard appeared on your doorstep, their cloaks far too white to be dragged through the muddy streets of Flea Bottom. 
“The Prince Regent, His Highness Aemond Targaryen, summons you.”
They did not care for your reply and seized you. You protested, demanded to be told the reason for this summon, but nothing would do. The guards dragged you like a rag doll through the streets of King's Landing, indifferent to your screams and struggle. Above and around you, the candlelight in the windows intensified. Some people poked their heads out to watch the racket. You lowered your chin and remained silent, but the damage had been done. 
Already, rumours were spreading. The baker had been arrested. What had she done? Who would make their bread from now on?  
The dizzy shadow of the Red Keep loomed larger and larger. Just the outline of it made your skin crawl. For the first time, you would be treading on the floor of Kings and Queens. You were being plunged headfirst into this unknown, powerful and dangerous place, populated by men and women who despised people like you. One of the guards tightened his grip around your arm. You yelped. Why were they taking you there? Aemond always came to you, not the other way round. 
Did someone know? You blanched. Impossible, you thought immediately. You had been cautious. 
But what if... What if someone had seen you, despite all your precautions? 
 Were they taking you to the Keep to put you to the sword?  
 A flash of fear stabbed you in the guts.  
You finally passed through the large gates of the castle. They were still open, yet, no one was in the courtyard. The swords were resting on the workbenches and the horses were asleep. Only a few guards patrolled the ramparts, their heads turned skywards in search of a dragon. 
“Hurry up, girl. The Prince is waiting.”
A solitary, proud figure emerged at the top of the stairs, in front of the entrance. His long white hair fluttered in the wind and the bluish moonlight accentuated his strict features and pale complexion. The mere sight of his face reassured you. You defied the guards and walked towards him. 
His rough hand⏤hardened by duty and war⏤gripped yours before thin lips kissed it. The Prince pulled you towards him. Your heart slowed as his familiar scent enveloped you and your shoulders relaxed. For a second, you surrendered to the comfort of his warmth and love. The smell of musk and leather soothed your body, but your head kept its wits about it.
“What's happening, Aemond?”
He closed his eye as his name fell from your lips and smiled. His hand came down and grasped your waist in a possessive embrace. You leaned into the touch. 
“There are rumours that Aegon–”
You squeaked. His fingers had dug painfully into your flesh at his brother's name. 
The mere mention of him brought back painful and humiliating memories, which your lover had confided to you, his head on your pillow. Even today, the wounds had not healed. They continued to transpire in every aspect of his life. You are the only thing he has not stolen from me, he had told you one night. Saying that name was like throwing his past back in his face and breaking your promise. He'll never succeed, you had replied, but today, Aegon was on your mind. What did his wound mean for the Crown, for you?
“Is it true?" you managed to articulate. 
“The Council has made me Regent," he nodded. “We will not need to hide any longer, my love.”
“What do you mean?”
But Aemond did not answer you. He smiled, tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and let his fingers brush your neck. With a nod, the kingsguards left. The clink of their armour echoed for long seconds, but the din faded with the tenderness of his gestures. His finger traced the veins in your chest. They led him to your breasts, hidden by your dress. Aemond grunted⏤terribly offended by this affront⏤and pulled at the fabric but it held on. 
Claere Linstar's work was reknown throughout Flea Bottom. You could not find a better weaver⏤today, you were thankful for the two silver stags you had spent. The garment would become the guarantor of your dignity, the bulwark against your desire. 
When you realised that your Prince was not going to answer your question, you took a step back. His hand fell limply between the two of you as a brief look of pain clouded his face. 
“Aemond?”
He straightened up and held out his hand to you. 
“Follow me.”
The labyrinthine corridors made your head spin. You lost count of the turns you took, the staircases you climbed and the alcoves you passed. The beauty of the mouldings and frescoes drew admiring sighs from you several times, but Aemond did not care. He walked past them without giving them a second glance. He's used to all this, you reminded yourself. People of his rank bathed in this luxury and grandeur since birth.  
On the way, maids dressed in red and white stopped at your sight. Their gaze fell on your face, on your body, on your hand locked in the Prince's... Your cheeks heated and you tried to pull away, but Aemond tightened his grip. Out of habit, his thumb caressed your skin. This time, his touch only made you tense. You bowed your head, ashamed. 
They knew. 
The thought stayed with you. 
You only lifted your head when Aemond stopped in front of an ornate door. The mouldings curved into flowers and birds⏤an ode to spring and renewal. Your eyes swept the decor, stopped on a bush of camellias and, finally, met the Prince's satisfied gaze. 
“We've arrived," he announced. 
Aemond opened the door with a confident gesture. Inside, an immense room stretched out and seemed to never end. Wealth oozed out of every corner, from the four-poster bed to the dressing table adorned with sapphires. On the wall, frescoes of flowers had been painted to match the powder pink drapes⏤an explosion of colour that turned drab the corridors you had been raving about just a few minutes before. 
“Is it to your taste?”
You turned back to Aemond. Although his chin was up and his back was straight⏤proud as ever⏤red bloomed on his cheeks. Your lover seemed embarrassed, a far cry from his usual composure. Almost timidly, his hand sought yours. He couldn't help it, you realised. His fingers always found yours⏤skin against skin to find what he had been deprived of all his childhood. 
“I don't know anyone who wouldn't like it," you replied.
“Hmm. Good.”
He pulled you to him. His hands went down to your buttocks and pressed you against his chest. Your pelvises collided. Suddenly, the room made sense. You let yourself drown in these familiar gestures. Your hand caressed his muscular shoulders, moved up to his jaw and brushed against his lips. Aemond kissed the pad of your thumb before replacing it with your lips. Soon, the wet sound of saliva echoed through the room. The sweet melody ignited a fire in your lower abdomen and moved down between your thighs. 
Your hand resumed tracing arabesques on your lover's smooth skin. It stopped at the buttons on his doublet and hastily undid them before wandering lower and lower…
Aemond stopped you before you could take him in your hand. His hand grabbed yours. He kissed your palm and pressed it against his cheek. 
“These will be your quarters.”
The fire went out, leaving you frozen with shock. Your heart skipped a beat. 
“What do you mean?" you asked breathlessly.
“Now that I am Regent, we will not have to hide any more.” 
A new glare lit up his eye. Purple turned black and made you shiver. Flames seemed to dance in his pupil, crushing all remains of the second son he had once been. That Aemond was dead. In his place was a Regent who thought himself above laws and men.  
“It's not proper, Aemond," you tried to protest. “If it gets out that I'm here... If the Dowager Queen or the Hand–”
“They have no say in the matter. My word is law now.”
 “If you want me here… Perhaps I could serve the Crown, join the kitchens. Anything but that, Aemond," you said, gesturing to those quarters, far too luxurious for someone of your breeding. 
“You do not belong in the fucking kitchens," he scoffed. “No. You will be by my side, as my equal.”
“You're engaged," you retorted. “The Lady Baratheon won't take kindly to my presence here. You nobles can make Small Folk disappear in a blink of an eye and no one would notice or care.”
Alira Merchin's story was remembered as a cautionary tale for young girls naive enough to think love could conquer blood. The fable was classic⏤hundreds of similar romances filled libraries, and perhaps it was these very ones that had encouraged the girl to seduce the heir of House Harte. The man fell in love and made the pretty merchant his lover. 
This did not please his wife, the daughter of Lord Chelsted. 
She got rid of the merchant with disconcerting ease. The poor girl was found trampled by horses in white and green bards. That day, Lord Harte lost his true love and spent the rest of his life suffering the consequences of his betrayal. 
Your heart dropped. What would happen to you if you tickled the stag? Ours if the Fury. Their motto was an ode to their rage, to their thirst for violence. If Floris Baratheon found out that Prince Aemond was bedding you... and in the Keep nonetheless…
The storm would come for you and you would perish in its eye. 
“It's not a good idea, Aemond," you finally said. 
“Do not fret, my love. Nothing will happen to you as long as I am here to protect you.”
The Prince pulled you into bed. 
Your protests died on your lips, muffled by moans and the exquisite feel of his skin against yours. 
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Your fingers tightened around your thighs. The soap made your skin slippery but did nothing to wash away the shame that had been clinging to it for days. It colonised your flesh and left it tainted, eating away at your muscles and weighing down your heart. 
On the first day, after a passionate night, maids had arrived to prepare you, but you refused their care. You were no Lady. You had bathed alone all your life and would continue to do so. More than anything, you wanted to escape their watchful eyes, which would no doubt have noticed the hickeys on your chest and thighs. 
You did not know how rumours got around in the Keep, but you were sure that they first burgeoned on the maids’ lips. They blossomed as quickly as in Flea Bottom⏤the inquisitive nature of man was innate⏤, but it would not be Old Gerald getting wind of it. No. The stakes were much higher in these parts, and the consequences even more dire. 
The door to your quarters stood in the way of the horror surely awaiting you, but for how much longer? 
Your hands massaged your calf, hoping to rediscover a cherished routine. You longed for the feel of dough beneath your fingers. What would become of your shop? Would you have to sell it? Maybe someone had already moved in⏤abandoned houses never stayed so for long in Flea Bottom, the cradle of the poor and the homeless. 
You could not cherish the roof above your head, yet, you supposed you had to learn to appreciate it. Aemond did not seem eager to let you go.  
Aemond. 
Every day, the sun tore him away from you. His hours were devoted to the Small Council and military strategies, only half of which you understood when he explained them to you. Your Prince needed to talk, to get rid of the weight that was arching his back. You became the shoulder on which he rested, the ear into which he poured his doubts, the flesh in which he forgot himself. 
“I wish to be with you every hour of the day, to attach myself to your side, but the Gods will only grant me this pleasure when I win this war. I am fighting for you⏤for us,” he had told you. 
The moon brought him back into your arms. Every night, without exception, he would cross the threshold of the door and wrap you in a reassuring embrace. His arms would block out your gloomy thoughts and chase away shame and regret⏤all seemed worth it if it kept him close to you. The stars looked down on your love. When the bells rang the hour of the owl, you indulged in the pleasures of the flesh, whispered sweet nothings or simply enjoyed the peaceful silence that the other's presence guaranteed. Sometimes, Aemond, lying on the bed with your head on his stomach, would read you stories with his hand buried in your hair. 
And then, the hour of the Nightingale would sound, its tranquillity burning away in the first rays of sunlight. The enchanted interlude would close and you would spend the day dreaming of a life where sun and duty did not separate you. 
Shame would reappear, its weight with it, and fear⏤tangible and vibrant⏤would turn your stomach. 
The spectre of Floris Baratheon never left you. It haunted you. In the frescoes of camellias on the wall. In the bouquets of flowers dotting your quarters. In the venison served for dinner. The tales of her beauty reached you and left you bitter, but what they said about her quiet authority made your blood run cold. 
She would come for you. 
The Lady Baratheon occupied all your thoughts, so much so that you forgot about another much more dangerous threat. 
One day, Alicent Hightower stalked into your room. 
You dropped your embroidery in your lap and hastily sat up. The needle fell to the floor with a disturbing chime. The bell was tolling⏤this farce had gone on far too long and it would now end. 
The Dowager Queen dropped a small leather bag on the table. Its contents clinked and masked your gasping breath for a second. Your heart was pounding against your temples. Soon, the air would run out. Already your throat was closing up and you were struggling to swallow. 
“What is it?" you asked weakly. 
“Five thousand gold dragons. Enough to buy you a new life, far from the Keep, far from Westeros.”
Away from my son, she meant. 
“I won't leave Aemond.”
He needs me, you thought. 
“The Prince Regent does not need you," the Queen scoffed as if she could heard your mind. “He is engaged. Or have you forgotten that? Whoring yourself in the way you do… It would appear so. Have you thought about the repercussions of your actions when people find out about you? The risks it means for Aemond? Your very presence here jeopardises this entire war.”
“I have tried to–”
“He does not love you, you fool. He just wants a cunt to fuck without having to spend a single penny.”
You recoiled, surprised to hear the famously pious queen speak so vulgarly. 
War transformed souls. It made them ugly. Alicent Hightower’s wide eyes and pursed lips twisted her face into a terrifying expression. 
She sighed and, for a moment, her features became those of a compassionate woman. 
“I don't know what… hold my son has over you," she continued in a calmer voice, “but you seem smart enough to understand this will end badly. You must leave. Take the gold and let us be done with this farce.”
The door slammed against the wall before you could even consider the proposal. 
Aemond reached your side with a confident stride. 
“What's going on here? Mother?”
When the latter did not answer, he looked to you for answers. You lowered your head, unable to bear the look of concern in his purple eye any longer. 
It fell lower, onto the table and the leather purse.  
“What is the meaning of this?” he raised his voice. 
Silence stretched before Alicent Hightower relented. 
“You cannot… support a lowborn in such manners, Aemond. The girl must go.”
The Prince ignored his mother and took you in his arms. His nose nestled under your ear as his hands buried themselves in your hair. He guided your head into his neck and whispered comforting words, which you could not hear. You did not care. His familiar scent embraced you and brought tears to the corners of your eyes. They wet your cheeks and his collar. 
You should never have come here. 
“Out.”
His mother protested. 
“Imagine the shame for your future wife, the Lady Baratheon! For her house! If we lose Storm's End because of... because of this w–” 
“Hold your tongue and leave.”
“Aemond, if you do this, we are lost!”
“Get out!”
Footsteps retreated. A door slammed. Aemond sighed. His hand drew abstract symbols on the back of your head for a moment before encouraging you to look at him. 
“Oh, my love," he said, seeing your misty eyes. “All is well now. She will not hurt you any more.”
The danger you had put yourself in was greater than you had thought. Fear dried your mouth and exhausted your words. You stammered a few excuses before taking a deep breath. Your Prince's fingers did not weaken. They continued to comfort you and, at last, gave you the courage you needed to finally speak. 
“Maybe I should return to Flea Bottom. I–” 
“No," Aemond’s voice cracked. 
His hands framed your face and pulled you closer until your noses were touching. 
“You are not leaving me.”
His lips were harsh, covering every inch of your skin. He kissed the bridge of your nose, your warm cheekbones, your wet eyelids. Tears ran aground in the cracks of his lips and dried up under his exquisite tenderness. No beauty spot, no eyelash, was spared. His lips erased his mother's words and the doubts in your heart. 
“You belong here, with me. I do not care for blood or war. I only wish for your love.”
Aemond filled the space between your mouths. His hands reached down and grasped your breast. He feasted on your lips and the taste of them like a hungry man. Tingles caressed your spine and tickled your lower abdomen. You rolled your hips, searching for his, but your lover pulled away.
You didn't want him to stop. 
The Prince shushed your complaints and pushed you to the bed. Your back bounced on the goose feather mattress. Eager to feel his skin against yours, you sat up and tried to pull him to you, but Aemond took a step back. A petty smile stretched his lips as he heard you whimper. He ignored you and stood silent, admiring you. His eyes, now black, gazed down at your body, contemplating its shape and softness.
“Aemond, please…”
Your lover grabbed an ankle and kissed it. You moaned. He moved up your calf, caressing your knee and digging his fingers into your thighs before spreading them apart. His teeth nipped at the flesh, which his tongue immediately soothed. Your breathing quickened and breathy moans fell from your swollen lips, intoxicated by his touch. He skipped over your dripping cunt, his hands grazing your hips and sides.  
Suddenly, Aemond stopped touching you, placed a farewell kiss on your belly and sat up on his elbows. 
“I will take care of everything, my love. You will never have to fear for your life. It is mine to cherish, mine to love, mine to protect," he said before reaching up to capture your lips with his. “Mine.”
“I love you," you sighed. 
Aemond smiled, as he did every time the words fell from your lips. One could not get used to the sweetness of love. It forever stirred the heart and soothed the soul. Your Prince placed a chaste kiss on your lips before moving down and disappearing between your thighs. 
His words vanished in desire and pleasure. You forgot them the next day, when the hour of the Nightingale struck.  
You should have known that Aemond Targaryen would keep his promise.
Three days later, the Lady Baratheon was found dead in the Kingswood, impaled on a stag's antlers. 
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dollgxtz · 10 days
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His Watchful Eye Pt. 4
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Word Count: 11.9k
Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation, attempted rape, xavier appears
Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglamela, @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 , @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @mysssticc @babygirl-panda19 @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1
AN: Bit of a late upload for you night owls and a nice surprise for my early risers! Someone tell me to stop making the chapters longer, thank you LOL. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy! This is on AO3 as usual! :D
"So… uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert. "Dog? What dog?" he said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question. "You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"
Read Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.5
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Xavier drummed his fingers rhythmically on the glass counter, each tap growing more impatient as the seconds stretched on. His eyes darted around the cluttered store, scanning the shelves filled with everything from worn-out sneakers to high-end dress shoes. The store clerk had disappeared into the back room several minutes ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Xavier wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find here.
He had strolled in with nothing more than a photo of a shoe print—a faint clue at best—but it felt more productive than sitting idly by, doing nothing while the answers to your disappearance slipped further out of reach. At least this was action, however uncertain.
Was this even a tangible way to find you? Was he grasping at straws, wasting precious time on a hopeless lead?
And the most haunting question of all—were you even still alive?
Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them tightly enough could block out the flood of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind go there, not now. Pushing the fear and uncertainty away, he tried to focus on the faint glimmer of hope that had brought him here in the first place. Anything was better than surrendering to despair.
"This is all I could find on it. It's certainly a unique pair," the shop clerk continued, offering a slight smile. "I'm not as technologically advanced as most shops around here, so sorry to disappoint. But, may I ask—why come to my little shop instead of one of those fancy places downtown?"
Xavier took the pamphlet, glancing over the information quickly before shifting his gaze back to the clerk. "Well," he began, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I heard you were the kind of guy who could identify a pair of shoes just by its print."
The clerk chuckled softly, his weathered face creasing with the effort. "You've been a great help, actually," Xavier added, sliding the pamphlet into his jacket pocket with a nod of appreciation.
The clerk gave an approving nod, the lines of his face softening in quiet satisfaction before he turned his back again, settling into the familiar rhythm of his work. Xavier headed toward the door, the faint creak of floorboards beneath his boots echoing through the small, dimly lit shop. His hand hovered over the door handle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a nagging thought rooted him in place. He paused, heart pounding slightly as the question formed in his mind.
He turned back, the weight of uncertainty pulling at his voice. "Say... you wouldn’t happen to know where this shoe was originally made, would you?"
The clerk stopped, mid-motion, his hands faltering over a pile of worn soles. The question seemed to hang in the air, drawing out a moment of silence as the man stared down, his brow furrowing. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Xavier felt a flicker of hope, unsure if it would lead him anywhere, but desperately clinging to the possibility.
The clerk finally turned, his face thoughtful, his voice quieter now. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if pulling the memory from a fog. "Last I saw of that shoe, it came from a company based in the... er, N1—no, wait..." His brow furrowed deeper as he worked to piece it together. "N109 Zone. Yeah, that’s the one."
His words hung in the air, carrying a weight Xavier couldn’t ignore. The clerk’s tone wasn’t just casual recollection—it was tinged with something more, like the memory of that particular shoe stirred something deeper. Xavier felt the knot of tension in his chest tighten.
Xavier felt his breath catch in his throat. N109 Zone. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He had heard plenty about that place—mostly rumors, but enough to know that it was a dangerous, lawless sector. Few dared to go there unless they had no other choice, and even fewer came back with stories worth telling. It was a no-man’s-land, a forgotten corner of land where control was lost long ago. The kind of place where people disappeared without a trace.
His mind raced, piecing it together. If the shoe had come from there... Did that mean you were there too? His stomach churned at the thought. The faint hope he had clung to started to blur with the creeping dread of what fate could have fallen upon you in the N109 Zone.
"You’re sure about that?" he asked, his voice betraying the slight anxiety creeping in around the edges. The clerk glanced up from his work, noticing the shift in Xavier’s tone.
"Yeah," the clerk said, more firmly this time. "I’m sure. That shoe—rare brand—hard to forget. The company folded years ago, but they used to operate out of the N109 Zone. Only place I’ve ever seen them sold."
Xavier swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. If the shoe came from N109, it could be a clue—a dangerous one, but still the only lead he had. He felt the urgency building inside him, a gnawing sense that time was running out, but also the undeniable question of what he might find if he went there.
Could you really be in a place like that? His mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but there were too many unknowns. Were you okay?
"I...appreciate your help," Xavier muttered, his voice thick with tension. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to steady his breathing.
"You're not actually thinking of going there, are you?" the store clerk asked, his voice edged with disbelief as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned slightly forward over the counter, studying Xavier with a mixture of concern and amusement. "No offense, but a pretty fella like you doesn’t exactly look like the type who could survive in a place like that. Not really worth the hassle for a pair of shoes don't you think?"
Xavier paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t turn around immediately, letting the weight of the clerk’s words linger for a moment. Finally, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm, almost casual. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice steady, though the tension in his body remained. "I've dealt with much worse."
The clerk blinked, surprised by Xavier's calm demeanor, but said nothing more.
Xavier turned to face the door once again, his hand resting on the handle as he prepared to step out into the cold streets. "Thanks again," he added, his tone carrying a finality that didn’t invite more questions.
Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door and walked out, leaving the shop behind. His heart pounded a little harder now, not just from the looming threat of the N109 Zone, but from the resolve building inside him. There was no turning back now.
He had a tangible clue—a real, solid lead to your whereabouts. For the first time in weeks, the haze of uncertainty lifted ever so slightly. But now that he knew you were possibly in one of the most dangerous areas anyone could imagine, time was no longer on his side. Every second that ticked by felt heavier, pulling him deeper into the urgency of the situation. The N109 Zone wasn’t just dangerous; it was a place where people vanished, a place where hope died. He had no time to waste, but rushing in blindly would be suicide. He needed a plan.
Stepping into the cold evening air, Xavier pulled the pamphlet from his jacket pocket, its crinkled edges soft from being handled. His eyes scanned over the contents carefully. Make and model—simple enough, not much help now. A detailed diagram of the shoe—useful for recognition, maybe, but not a lifeline. Then his eyes caught something else—a faint address printed near the top. It was partially worn, barely legible, but there.
His heart skipped a beat. An address? Could this be where the shoe was made? Or where it was sold? Either way, it was another piece of the puzzle, and right now, it was the closest thing to a breadcrumb trail he had. He squinted at the faded letters, trying to make out every detail.
If this address was in the N109 Zone, it could lead him right into the heart of the danger. But it could also lead him to you.
His mind raced. First, he needed to confirm the location. Then he needed a plan—something better than just walking straight into the N109 Zone and hoping for the best.
Pulling out his hunter’s watch, Xavier quickly scanned the address printed on the pamphlet. The small device whirred to life, its holographic screen flickering as it worked to process the faint, worn-out text. A soft ding echoed in the quiet street as it started searching for the location. Xavier watched the screen intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
The map on the watch blinked, the dot moving erratically across an unmarked, shadowy area. It drifted back and forth, as though even the advanced technology in his hands was confused, struggling to pin down an exact location. Xavier frowned, watching the dot jitter across the screen. His stomach tightened with frustration. Was the address too old? Was it leading him nowhere?
Just when he thought the device might give up entirely, the dot paused. The holographic screen flickered once more, and with a soft chime, it glowed green in confirmation. The hunter's watch had finally locked on to a spot. Xavier stared at it, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. The place it had marked was deep within N109 Zone, tucked away in the heart of the most dangerous, uncharted part of the city.
He exhaled slowly, his mind running through a million possibilities. The watch’s confirmation meant something tangible, something real—but what waited for him there? He couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a trap, a place where the trail might lead to nothing, or worse, to more danger than he could anticipate. But it was also the only clue he had to your whereabouts.
Xavier closed his hand around the watch, feeling its faint warmth through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a simple lead anymore—it was a beacon, calling him into the depths of the N109 Zone. And whatever waited for him there, he would face it.
Because finding you was all that mattered.
As Xavier made his way through the still, empty streets back to his apartment, the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a faint, orange glow across the sky. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan. Gear, weapons,—he’d need everything ready before venturing into the N109 Zone.
But just as he turned the corner, his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the early morning quiet. Xavier stopped, his brow furrowing as he fished the phone out of his pocket. It was a jarring sound—no one should be calling him at this early hour.
He glanced at the screen, squinting in confusion. The number was unknown, unfamiliar. His immediate thought was Captain Jenna—she was the only one who’d be up this early, possibly reaching out with new intel—but this wasn’t her number.
He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Unknown number. His instincts screamed caution. In his line of work, random calls at odd hours rarely led to anything good. The number could belong to anyone—a lead, a warning, or worse, a trap.
But then again, it could be something important—something connected to you. He couldn't ignore the possibility.
Should he answer? The phone rang again, and with each buzz, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach tightened. Whoever it was, they wanted to reach him badly enough to call at this ungodly hour.
With a deep breath, Xavier made a decision and swiped to answer the call. "Hello?" His voice was guarded, careful.
For a moment, all Xavier could hear was silence, a thick void that made his pulse quicken. Then, suddenly, the sound of crackling static filled his ears, distorting the line. He frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. The static grew louder, chaotic, until it was abruptly interrupted by a voice—scared, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.
"Xavier? Is that you??"
His heart nearly stopped.
You kept running until your legs gave out, your breath ragged and chest burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not yet. An hour ago, you had been trapped, bound in your captor's suffocating bedroom, that thick invisible leash tightening around your neck with each passing day, stealing your hope, your strength. Every second felt like eternity in that room, but somehow, with some luck of a power outage of all things, you’d broken out of your cage. You’d ran—bolted into the cold night without looking back.
And now, you were almost free.
But “freedom” wasn’t what you had imagined. The streets stretched out before you, bleak and lifeless. It felt wrong. There was no joy in the air, no welcoming breeze to assure you of safety—only the gnawing sense that you had escaped one cage just to enter another. You recalled something Sylus, your captor, had mentioned in passing.
"Its always 'night' here", he'd said with a small smile, and now you truly realized he hadn’t been lying.
Darkness swallowed the entire area, a thick, unnatural veil over everything. Even though your eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, the eerie, half-flickering streetlights cast only dim pools of sickly yellow across the cracked pavement. The shadows loomed, stretching too far, hiding too much. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the haunting silence that wrapped around you.
The air itself felt thick, as if it was suffocating under the weight of secrets too dark, too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Each alley you passed felt like it was watching you, whispering silent threats from the shadows. Exhaustion clung to your limbs, and you had finally stopped, collapsing onto a broken bench under one of the few flickering streetlights that still worked. The cold metal dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, to steady your thoughts.
Where do you go now? You scanned your surroundings again, looking for anything that could offer direction, but the streets were as desolate as before. The same cracked pavement, the same looming shadows. No signs. No people. Just an eerie quiet.
A fleeting thought entered your mind—maybe there’s a train station nearby? The idea seemed almost laughable. Would it even take you to Linkon? And would you even make it to a station without getting caught?
You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for the thought. Hitchhiking was another idea that crossed your mind—no way, you scolded yourself, brushing off the notion as quickly as it came. You probably couldn't trust anyone here. Not in a place like this. Here, trusting a stranger was as reckless as running blind into the dark.
But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t stay still for long; resting too much would make you an easy target. With a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand again. Your legs trembled beneath you, but you kept moving, hoping—praying—you’d find someone who wasn’t out to harm you. Something that could help guide you out of this nightmare. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of fear pressing harder on your chest.
As your bare feet dragged across the cracked concrete, the desperation gnawed at you more fiercely. You were lost—physically and mentally. Each street looked the same, the darkness playing tricks on your eyes. Panic swelled in your throat. How long could you keep going like this? How much longer could you walk before your legs gave out? Before someone found you?
Your breaths came quicker, shallow with fear. You needed a way out, but the deeper you walked into the N109 Zone, the more it felt like the place was swallowing you whole. You were running out of time. Running out of hope.
And then finally, as if the cruel universe had decided to grant you another fleeting moment of mercy, you saw it—a faint glow of lights in the distance. Squinting, you could just make out a corner store, its soft, artificial light spilling onto the cracked sidewalk. A few people were loitering outside, giving the place a rare sense of life. A tired-looking woman clutched her child's hand tightly, and a man stood by, lazily smoking a cigar, his eyes scanning the street in disinterest. A couple of others hovered nearby, exchanging quiet words under the dim streetlight.
You couldn't believe your eyes. A store? Here? In the N109 Zone? It seemed almost surreal, like it had been plucked from another world and dropped into this forgotten wasteland. But it made sense in a grim way. Even in a place like this, people have to eat. Make a living.
With a rush of desperate energy, you hurried toward the store, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The people outside cast looks in your direction, but don't say anything. You stopped just short of the entrance, glancing down at yourself for the first time. You must look insane. A nightgown hung loosely around your body, dirty and torn at the edges. No shoes. No socks. Your hair was tangled and wild from the running. The sight of yourself made you wince in embarrassment, but there was no time to care about that now.
Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a dimly lit but surprisingly ordinary scene. The inside of the corner store looked like any other—aisles of candy, snacks, cheap knick knacks and toys stacked high. It was a stark contrast to the dangerous, shadowy streets just outside. But one sight caught your attention above all: the food.
Your stomach growled loudly, twisting with hunger. You hadn’t eaten since the chicken dinner Sylus had provided before your “outburst.” You hadn't been able to finish it, and now the exhaustion from running had made the hunger almost unbearable. Your mouth watered at the thought of eating, but there was one major problem—you had no gold.
Your heart sank as you stared at the rows of candy bars and instant noodles. How were you going to get anything?
Anxiously, you shuffled toward the front counter, your nerves jangling with every step. When you reached it, you hesitated for a moment, staring at the small bell. With trembling fingers, you tapped it.
A disheveled-looking man, his hair sticking out in uneven tufts, glanced up from behind the counter. He had been glued to his phone, and the interruption clearly annoyed him. His eyes landed on you, and for a brief second, he just stared, taking in your disarrayed appearance before rolling his eyes in annoyance.
"Can I...help you?" he asked, dragging out the words as if the very act of speaking was a burden.
You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but your mind raced with too many conflicting emotions—fear, embarrassment, hunger. What could you even say?
"I've been kidnapped," you blurt out, your voice shaky and desperate. You opened your mouth to explain further, to tell him everything—how you had escaped, how you were on the run, how you needed help—but before you could get another word out, the man snorted.
"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said dismissively, leaning back on his chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Who hasn't been kidnapped at least once around here?"
His casual tone hit you like a slap. The raw urgency in your voice was met with nothing but apathy. Your heart sank. He wasn’t going to take you seriously. You were just another story in a place like this, another desperate face with nowhere to go. You stood there, frozen, trying to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to your situation.
You swallowed hard, fighting back the frustration welling up inside you. "Please, I'm serious. I just need—"
"Look," the man interrupted, cutting you off again, his eyes barely lifting from his phone. "You want something, buy it. Otherwise, move along. I’m not here for charity cases."
You glanced at the counter, the rows of candy, snacks, and drinks just inches away, knowing you had nothing to pay with. Desperation clawed at your insides. You were exhausted, starving, and running out of options.
"I don't have any gold... do you ha-have a phone?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you blinked back the hot tears threatening to spill. How could someone be so indifferent to the obvious suffering staring him in the face?
"Broken," he said flatly, still not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was like a physical blow. "And… gold? What are you, some Linkcunt citizen?"
The venom in his words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Linkcunt citizen? The insult was harsh, dripping with disdain, and it sent a sudden wave of anger rushing through you.
"Yes, I’m from Linkon," you correct, the frustration and fear bubbling over into your voice. "What’s with the attitude? What did I do to you? I'm asking for help!"
He finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. It was mocking.
"What did you do? Nothing. That’s the problem. Linkon folk come down here thinking they’re better than everyone, tossing around their fancy gold and expecting the world to hand them everything." He shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt.
"You want help? Then you’d better figure out how things work around here real fast, princess. No one's gonna hand you anything for free."
You felt your fists clench at his words, the anger mixing with a deeper sense of helplessness. You hadn’t asked to be here. You hadn’t asked for any of this. And yet, standing in this grimy corner store in the depths of the N109 Zone, it was clear that no one cared about your suffering. Not here. You weren’t in Linkon anymore.
Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, swallowing the anger rising in your throat. Getting into a fight with this clerk wouldn’t help you, not now. But the bitterness of his words lingered, and you realized just how alone you truly were in this place.
Silently, you turned your back to the greasy man behind the counter, his words still echoing in your mind as you began to walk up and down the aisles. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion pulling at you. Your stomach growled, gnawing at your insides, reminding you just how long it had been since you'd eaten.
But something else gnawed at you too—something that made your skin crawl with discomfort. You hadn't changed your pad for hours, and now the sticky, damp feeling clung uncomfortably between your legs. The sudden realization hit you, a wave of disgust washing over you as you winced.
Swallowing hard, you glanced over toward the feminine hygiene aisle. Rows of necessities lined the shelves—pads, tampons, basic supplies—just out of reach. You stared at them, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't just food you needed now. You couldn’t go on like this.
But you had no credit cards. No way to purchase anything. Nothing.
Your eyes flicked back toward the front of the store, where the disinterested clerk sat, still engrossed in his phone. He wasn’t paying attention to you. He didn’t care. Nobody here did.
You felt a knot tighten in your throat as the harsh reality of the situation settled in. You had to steal. There was no other choice. You hated the thought of it—hated how low it made you feel—but survival wasn’t a matter of pride. Not here. Not now.
Your fingers trembled as you looked back at the shelves. You knew what you had to do.
The clerk still wasn’t paying attention, his face lit by the glow of his phone. His indifference might be your only saving grace. You could do this—quickly, quietly, and then you’d be gone.
With shaky hands you reach for a plastic bag that had fallen on the ground. The bag felt like a shield, something to hide the weight of what you were about to do. You didn’t think twice as you moved toward the feminine hygiene aisle, knowing you couldn’t walk any further in your current state. You reached for a pack of pads, your movements slow and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that it felt like the entire store could hear it.
Next, you hurried down the snack aisle, grabbing a few protein bars, a small bag of chips, and a bottle of water, all of which disappeared into the bag as your pulse raced in your ears.
You glanced toward the counter, your body tense with anxiety. The clerk still hadn’t looked up, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint, unmistakable sound of pornography drifted from his speakers, making your stomach churn in disgust. You twisted your face, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.
He was utterly oblivious to your frantic movements, his attention locked on the screen, but that didn't ease the gnawing sensation in your gut. Every step felt like you were tiptoeing across a minefield, a ticking clock counting down to disaster. Even though he wasn’t watching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was.
With the bag now heavy in your hands, you made your way toward the exit, each step carefully measured, your breath shallow as you fought to keep calm. The distance between you and the door seemed endless, as if every inch stretched into miles. But finally, your trembling hand closed around the cold metal of the handle.
Your heart raced as you crossed the threshold, bracing yourself for the inevitable—a shrill, deafening alarm that would shatter the silence and expose your crime to the world. You waited for it, your breath caught in your throat, ready to bolt at the first sound.
But nothing came.
No alarm. No piercing siren. The only thing you could hear was the frantic beating of your own heart as the door swung shut behind you with a quiet click.
For a moment, you stood there, frozen in place, not daring to move. The cool night air brushed against your skin, grounding you in the eerie quiet. The world outside the store felt impossibly still. It took a few seconds for your brain to register that you had made it out—unseen, unheard.
You swallowed hard, keeping your head down as you hurried past the few patrons lingering near the store. Their eyes followed your every step, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you, judging, curious. Did they happen to care, or did you just look that insane?
The woman with the child pulled her daughter closer as you passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The man smoking his cigar gave you a long, leering stare, as if trying to figure out what your story was. The others whispered quietly among themselves, but you couldn’t make out the words, nor did you want to. You kept walking, willing yourself to be invisible, but the tension in the air made your skin prickle.
Once you were a safe distance away from the store, you ducked down an empty alley, the shadows wrapping around you like a cloak. The world outside was still bleak, the flickering streetlights casting only the faintest glow, but here in the quiet, you finally had a moment to breathe.
You found a relatively clean spot, tucked behind an old dumpster, and set the bag down beside you. Your hands shook as you reached into the bag for the pack of pads. The discomfort and itch between your legs had grown unbearable, and the relief of changing, even in such a grim place, was something you couldn't put off any longer.
Quickly, you adjusted yourself, wincing at the feeling of the old pad peeling away. You worked fast, knowing you couldn’t linger here for long. Once you were done, you felt a small sense of relief—at least one problem had been solved.
Next, you pulled out the snacks. The hunger was still clawing at you, and the sight of the protein bars and chips made your stomach ache even more. Tearing into a protein bar, you ate quickly, barely tasting the food as you devoured it, desperate to fuel your exhausted body. The bottle of water came next, and you drank it down in large, gulping swallows.
For the first time since you had escaped, you felt a flicker of calm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last, but here in this dark corner, with food in your stomach and a small bit of comfort, you allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe.
But the quiet didn’t last. You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. You had to get moving at some point or Sylus would find you. This place was unforgiving, and survival demanded more than just temporary refuge.
Tucking the remaining items back into the bag, you sigh in satisfaction, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. The streets were still empty. For now, you were alone. You had survived one more step in this nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t over yet.
Some time passes and you can slowly feel yourself falling asleep against the dumpster.
As you crouched in the dim alley, trying to fight off exhaustion and gather your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, steady, and casual, accompanied by a faint, off-key whistling. You stiffened, instinctively pulling the bag closer to your chest.
The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then came the voice—low, cautious, but curious.
"Hey, you okay?"
You glanced up warily, your eyes landing on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair that fell just above his eyes. His clothes were worn—faded jeans and a jacket that had seen better days—but he didn’t look like the rough types you usually imagined when you thought of the N109 Zone. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his sharp, dark eyes were fixed on you, a flicker of concern—or maybe something else—dancing behind them.
His face was hard to read. He had a slight stubble covering his jaw, giving him a rugged, almost tired appearance. His lips quirked in what might’ve been a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you—like he was curious, but also sizing you up. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made you wonder why he’d stopped to talk to you at all.
"Are you... lost?" he asked, stepping forward slowly, the whistling tune dying in the air. His voice was softer now, almost as if he was trying to be gentle, but his presence made the space around you feel even smaller.
"What happened to your arm?"
You swallowed hard, trying your best to keep your gaze on him. You had honestly completely forgotten about the scar on you arm. As much as you wanted to explain, every instinct screamed to stay wary. This wasn’t a place where strangers helped out of kindness, and you knew better than to trust easily. But as exhausted and desperate as you were, you weren’t sure if you could afford to push away help, even from someone who might have their own agenda.
"I—I need help," you stammered, your voice shaky, barely managing to push the words past your tightening throat. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and exhaustion leaving you on edge. You hugged the bag tighter to your chest, every muscle in your body tense. "But... don't come any closer just yet."
The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting, though he made no move forward. He stayed where he was, his hands still in his pockets, the dim streetlight casting long shadows on his face. For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with tension as he watched you.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and even, though the curiosity in his eyes never wavered. He tilted his head, taking in your ragged appearance with a deeper interest. "No problem. I’m not here to scare you. Just trying to figure out what you're doing out here all alone."
You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You needed help, but trust was a dangerous thing in a place like this. Still, you were running out of options. Your mind raced as you tried to decide what to say next.
You hesitated, your mind racing as you weighed the risks. Could you trust him? Telling the truth might make you vulnerable, but lying wouldn’t get you far either. You had to say something—anything—to explain why you were here.
"I was kidnapped," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, a tremor of fear running through you as you spoke. "I escaped… I don’t know where I am. I just need to get somewhere safe and rest so I can get home later."
The man’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He studied you, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess whether or not you were telling the truth. His silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, making your heart pound faster in your chest.
"You’re serious?" he finally asked, his tone more subdued now, almost disbelieving but not dismissive. He took a small step back, showing that he wasn’t going to invade your space. "You really got away from someone?"
You nodded, the tension in your body still coiled tight, waiting for his reaction. You couldn't tell if he believed you, but you hoped—desperately—that he wouldn’t press too hard or turn you away.
The man stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read the truth in your expression. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture softening just slightly.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you're telling the truth... then you’ve got bigger problems than just being lost."
He glanced around, checking the street behind him as if making sure no one else was nearby, then he looked back at you, his face more serious now. "You can’t stay out here. This place— the N109 Zone—it’s not somewhere you want to be wandering around alone, especially if someone’s looking for you."
You felt a shiver run down your spine. You already knew the N109 Zone was dangerous, but hearing it from him made it feel even more real.
"Look," he continued, his voice softening. "I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need help, I can take you somewhere safer. But you’ve gotta trust me, and you’ve gotta move quick. If they’re after you, it’s only a matter of time before they find you out here."
He waited, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to see if you’d accept his offer—or run.
You hesitated for a long moment, scanning the man’s face for any sign of deceit. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so, but something about his demeanor made you feel that, for now, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he meant harm, he could’ve acted already. Swallowing hard, you nodded.
“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ll come with you.”
He nodded in return, offering nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "My place isn’t far. You can rest there, maybe clean up a bit. It’ll give you a few hours before you have to figure out what’s next."
You fell in step behind him, your bare feet quiet against the cracked pavement. The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of passing cars. You hugged the bag closer to your chest, still tense but too tired to think about running. As you walked through the dim streets, a question lingered in the back of your mind.
"I'm surprised you stopped to help me," you finally said, your voice tentative. "Most people here…they wouldn’t have even looked twice."
He glanced back at you, barely breaking stride, and shrugged. "I’ve seen worse things in this place. Trust me, a girl lost in an alley isn't the strangest thing I’ve come across." His tone was casual, almost detached, as if this was just another day in the chaotic world of the N109 Zone.
His nonchalance unnerved you. Why was he so calm? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, thoughts racing. Maybe you had made the wrong choice. Maybe he had his own agenda, like everyone else in this place. But then again, he hadn’t tried to harm you. If he wanted to, he would've done so. You weighed your options, feeling the tug of paranoia, but exhaustion and desperation had their hold. You pushed the doubt aside. For now, you decided to trust him, even if only for a few hours.
As you walked in silence, the two of you eventually came across something you hadn’t expected to see: an old, grimy phone booth, its glass cracked but still intact, standing at the edge of a corner. A relic from another time, long since forgotten by most.
Your heart skipped a beat. A phone. You might be able to call Xavier.
"Do you have any… uh, quarters?" you asked, your voice tight with desperation. You hadn’t thought about it before, but now it seemed obvious. Linkon City had long left behind the need for such old currency—everything there was digital, clean, modern. But here, in the N109 Zone, where everything felt stuck in time, of course they still used quarters. It made sense in this broken-down world.
He stopped, watching you for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, hang on." He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds, fishing around with a slight look of annoyance. After a bit of clattering, he pulled out a few quarters, handing them over to you without a word.
Your hands trembled as you took them. This could be your chance—your lifeline. You stepped inside the booth, hoping that the old machine would still work, and stared at the dirty receiver.
You stared at the old rotary dial for a moment, panic rising in your chest. You tried to remember how it worked as you slipped the coins in the slot. It had been so long since you’d read about one of these—everything in Linkon was sleek, touch-based, connected by the web. But here, in this forgotten part of the world, you were holding a piece of the past. The process felt foreign, archaic.
Your mind raced, desperately trying to recall Xavier’s number. What was it? You racked your brain, images of his scribbled phone number from messages, fragments of conversations, all blurred together. The numbers danced in your head as you tried to piece them together.
Your heart pounded louder, matching the beat of the seconds slipping away. You were running out of time. With a trembling hand, you began dialing the numbers, trying to focus on every movement, praying you’d gotten it right.
The dial clicked as it spun back after each number, the mechanical sound unnervingly slow. The receiver crackled in your ear as the phone began to ring.
Please, Xavier... please pick up.
The ringing felt endless, each second a heavier weight pressing on your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the receiver tight. The noise around you seemed to fade into the background as you waited, hoping, praying that on the other end of the line, he’d be there—ready to hear you, ready to help.
The phone rang again... and again.
Your breath caught in your throat, a prayer hanging on the edge of each ring.
"Hello?" A timid, cautious male voice came through the receiver, muffled by the crackling static, but it was unmistakable.
Relief crashed over you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed right there in the grimy phone booth, your knees buckling as the sound of Xavier's voice reached your ears. After everything—you finally had a connection to him. Tears welled up in your eyes, your breath shaky as you clutched the receiver tighter.
"Xavier!! Xavier, thank god!" you cried, your voice raw with desperation. "I don't even know where to start..."
But after your outburst, only silence greeted you. The line crackled, sputtering with age, the static drowning out whatever response might have come. Frustration surged through you as you gripped the receiver, shaking it in a vain attempt to clear the line. You banged the phone against the booth, biting back a sob as the interference persisted. This thing must be older than you thought. How could it fail you now?
Finally, the crackling stopped, leaving only a tense, quiet hum on the other end.
"Xavier? Is that you??" you asked, your voice trembling, barely holding back the panic. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing this fragile connection—this one thin lifeline.
The line crackled for a moment before Xavier’s voice came through, steady and calm, but with a layer of unmistakable relief.
"It’s you…," Xavier said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d been holding onto hope for so long that hearing your voice felt like a lifeline. "I’m so glad you’re alive. Are you okay? Where are you?"
The sound of his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing over you. You sob, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t alone. He had been looking for you, and now, he was coming.
"Xavier…I was kidnapped," you sobbed, the words finally breaking free, the fear and terror of the last few days pouring out. "I escaped. I’m cold, hurt and scared..."
His response was immediate, his tone both calming and steady, as if he was trying to comfort you even from miles away. "I’m here now. I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? I’m coming for you. I just need a better idea of where you are."
You took a shaky breath, trying to keep it together, but the tears threatened to spill over. "I don’t know where exactly… all I know is I’m in the N109 Zone. I found a phone booth near a corner store. Everything around here looks abandoned."
There was a brief pause on the other end as Xavier processed the information. "Alright," he said firmly. "Stay there, I'll try and track the location of the phone booth. I’m on my way. Just… hold on a little longer, okay?"
"I—" you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the man who had helped you. "I actually found a really nice man. He’s letting me rest at his place. He hasn’t hurt me at all, so don’t worry. He says his place isn’t far from here. I’ll come back to the phone and give you the details after I see it."
Xavier’s voice tightened slightly, the concern clear. "I don’t like the sound of that. Just… be careful. I’m coming as fast as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, alright? If anything feels wrong, leave. Fight like hell if you need to."
"I will," you whispered, gripping the receiver tightly. "Just hurry, please."
"I promise I’m coming," Xavier said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He paused, just for a second, before continuing. "One more thing though—do you remember who took you? I’ll need a name, in case…in case I don't find you when I arrive. I don’t want to lose you again."
Your heart raced as memories of your captor flashed in your mind. "Yeah! His name is S—"
"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for an additional 3 minutes," the automated voice cut in sharply, drowning out your words.
Panic surged through you. The call had abruptly ended, the receiver in your hand now silent except for the monotonous prompt asking for more coins. You frantically searched your pockets, but you had no more quarters.
"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for—"
You screamed, the frustration boiling over as you kicked the phone, the clanging metal reverberating through the phone booth. Your hand gripped the receiver so tightly your knuckles lost circulation, and with a final surge of anger, you thrashed against the booth, the tears you’d been holding back now streaming down your face.
"Xavier!?" you yelled into the dead line, your voice cracking with desperation. He had to hear you. He had to. But all that came through was the cold, indifferent tone of the automated voice, endlessly repeating its demand for more quarters, as if mocking your panic.
You slammed the receiver down, the booth suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Every second that ticked by was a second lost, a moment Xavier might not know who had taken you, might not know how to find you.
With a deep, shaky breath, you stepped out of the booth, blinking away the tears.
"Do...you have any more quarters?" you ask, tears threatening to spill from your face at any moment now.
The man outside the phone booth shifted awkwardly and shook his head, his eyes flickering between you and the dark street. He had watched you from the moment you’d rushed into the booth, but now, as you sobbed, his discomfort was clear. He took a slow step forward, clearing his throat, but didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what to do.
"You, uh... you okay?" he asked finally, his voice soft but uneasy. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing around as if he wasn’t used to being in such an emotional situation.
You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, but the tears kept coming. The overwhelming frustration of losing the connection with Xavier left you feeling exposed and helpless. You didn’t know what to say to the man, couldn’t find the words to explain the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.
He hesitated, then sighed, taking another step closer. "Look, uh… if it’s about the call, I’m sure your guy’s coming. Sounds like he cares. You just... you know, gotta hang in there. We’ll get to my place soon, and you can rest."
His words, though clumsy, were an attempt at comfort. But even as he tried to reassure you, his uncertainty showed in the way he avoided your gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone breaking down in front of him.
You sniffed, nodding slightly, feeling drained from the outburst. "Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine," you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your nightgown, though you weren’t sure you believed it.
The two of you resumed walking, your steps slow and heavy as you sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened to spill. The man walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, glancing at you now and then with an awkwardness that was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying much, just occasionally looking around as if he wished there was something more he could do, but he seemed completely out of his depth when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a woman on the verge of breaking down.
"You’ll, uh, feel better once we get there," he mumbled, his voice low and sheepish. "It’s not much, but at least you can get some sleep. Maybe eat something."
You nodded, biting your lip as you fought to compose yourself, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you again. The air between you felt thick, filled with unspoken words and awkward tension. He kept glancing at you as if he wanted to say something more, but each time, he swallowed the words, guiding you quietly through the darkened streets.
The city around you was eerily quiet, the desolation of the N109 Zone even more pronounced in the silence. The flickering streetlights barely illuminated your path, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. You hugged your arms close to your body, your mind still reeling from the failed call, but you focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.
The man cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "I’m… not really good at this kind of thing, you know," he admitted, his tone awkward, almost apologetic. "But you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it."
You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. His words were clumsy, but there was a strange sincerity in them. Despite his unease, it seemed like he really was trying to help, even if he didn’t quite know how to do it.
As the silence stretched on, the weight of everything hanging between you, you glanced at him through the dim light. His awkwardness, his uncertainty—it was all so clear. But despite everything, he had helped you. He had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. Given you the last of his quarters. You swallowed, trying to ground yourself in the moment.
"I didn’t catch your name, by the way," you said softly, your voice still a little shaky.
He blinked, as if surprised you’d asked. His steps slowed for a moment before he gave a small, awkward shrug. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t say." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as he seemed to search for the right words. "It’s Reese," he finally muttered. "Not much of a name, but it’s mine."
You offered a small, tired smile, your voice soft. "Reese… thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—" You stopped yourself, the weight of your situation pressing on your chest again.
He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, well… I’m no hero. Just didn’t seem right to leave you out there. Not in a place like this."
As the two of you walked in silence, Reese cleared his throat, glancing over at you with a bit more confidence than before. "So… what’s your name? Figured if we’re gonna be walking together, I should know who I’m helping."
You hesitated, your heart racing slightly. Trust wasn’t something you could afford so easily, not here, not now. Despite his awkward attempts to help, you weren’t ready to give him your real name. Better to be cautious, you reminded yourself. You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.
"It’s...Mephisto," you said, the lie rolling off your tongue before you could second-guess it. You had vaguely remembered Sylus calling out the name to someone from outside the door, to who you weren't sure. One of his men probably.
Reese nodded, seemingly taking your answer at face value, no suspicion in his expression. "Alright," he said, giving a half-smile. "Nice to meet you Miss Mephisto, despite the strange name."
You nodded back, feeling the weight of the lie settle inside you. It wasn’t much, but it gave you a small layer of protection—just in case. You still didn’t know Reese’s full intentions, and trust here could be a dangerous thing.
"Nice to meet you too, Reese," you replied softly, glancing around the darkened street.
After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dark, desolate streets of the N109 Zone, you and Reese finally reached his place. The house stood at the end of a narrow alley, tucked between two crumbling, abandoned buildings. It wasn’t much to look at—dingy, with peeling paint and windows that seemed to have long lost their clarity. The front door sagged slightly on its hinges, the wood scuffed and weathered, as if it had seen better days a long time ago.
Reese unlocked the door with a bit of effort, pushing it open with a low creak. Inside, the air was stale but warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. The place was small, cluttered, and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The furnishings were old, mismatched, and worn—a threadbare couch sat in the corner, covered in a faded blanket. The walls were bare except for a few crooked picture frames, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Still, despite its grimy appearance, there was a strange sense of comfort to the place, like someone had lived here for a long time and had made it home in their own way.
"You can sit over there if you want," Reese said, motioning to the couch. "It’s not much, but it’s better than the streets."
You nodded, stepping inside cautiously. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details—the scuffed coffee table with a few empty bottles on it, the stack of old magazines piled up against one wall. It didn’t scream danger, but you couldn’t shake the wary feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Something about the whole situation made you uneasy. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the smell of old dust, or just the lingering doubt about trusting someone so easily in a place like this.
Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on your body, and the promise of rest—any rest—was too tempting to ignore. You sat down on the couch, the worn cushions sinking under you, and pulled the bag of pads closer to your chest. Reese seemed harmless enough, but you reminded yourself to stay on guard. You weren’t out of danger yet.
Reese busied himself, tossing a few items around to clear space, but the house remained eerily quiet.
As you settled into the couch, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible, a sudden noise from the backyard broke the uneasy silence. It was faint, but distinct—a thud, followed by the faint sound of something shuffling or dragging. Your heart leapt, and you sat up a little straighter, your eyes darting toward the back of the house.
“What was that?” you asked, your voice tense as you turned to look at Reese.
He froze for a split second, the calm, awkward demeanor you’d come to expect from him faltering. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "It’s just… my dog. Yeah, he’s in the shed out back. I forgot to mention him earlier."
You watched him closely, feeling the tension spike in the room. There was something off about the way he said it, the quickness in his tone as if he were scrambling to come up with an explanation.
"Your dog?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of your mind.
"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "He’s old, doesn’t like people much, so I keep him out there. No big deal."
His words didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his response, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. The uneasy feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, creeping up your spine.
"Right," you muttered, still watching him carefully, but you decided not to push further. Not yet.
"Um... coffee?" Reese blurted out suddenly, his voice still laced with that nervous edge. He offered a forced smile, clearly trying to redirect the tension hanging thick in the air. He rubbed his hands together, glancing toward the small, cluttered kitchen. "I could make us some. Might help, you know, after everything you’ve been through."
You hesitated, still on edge from the strange noise outside and his quick, jittery explanation. Something didn’t feel right, but you weren’t sure if pushing him now would help or only make things worse. You forced a smile of your own, your mind still racing with questions.
"Sure," you said quietly, your voice flat as you tried to calm your nerves. "Coffee sounds good."
Reese nodded, too eagerly, and moved toward the kitchen, fumbling with an old coffee pot. The clattering of cups and the rush of water filled the silence, but your mind was still focused on that noise outside. A dog in the shed? It seemed like a weak excuse, but you didn’t know him well enough to push it.
You leaned back into the couch, the worn fabric sinking beneath you as your eyes drifted toward the back door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe Reese wasn’t telling you everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were exhausted, but you couldn't let your guard down.
Reese finished brewing the coffee after a few moments, bringing it over to you in a green, cracked mug. You took it from him with a polite smile, setting it down on the coffee table untouched. The steam curled up from the cup, filling the small room with the faint scent of stale coffee. Reese sat across from you, sipping from his own mug, but you couldn’t help but notice how distracted he seemed.
He kept glancing toward the window, then back at his watch, over and over. Each time, his face tensed a little more, as though he were expecting something—or someone. Your wariness only grew.
What is he looking for?
The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the noise in the backyard wasn’t as innocent as he’d made it sound.
"So…uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert.
"Dog? What dog?" Reese said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question.
"You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"
A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and then you saw it—realization hit him like a brick. His eyes widened as he turned to look at you, panic flickering across his face.
You sat up straighter, your heart starting to race. He’d lied. And now he knew you knew.
"Uh, I mean—" he stammered, his voice shaky, "I meant, uh, Rex. Yeah, his name’s Rex. Sorry, I’m just… distracted." He forced a weak smile, but the panic was still there, clear as day. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room thickening with every second that passed after Reese's panicked slip. His eyes kept darting between you and the window, as if something outside demanded his attention. Your pulse quickened as the uneasy feeling deepened. Something wasn’t right, and you knew you had to get out of there.
"I should…go," you said, forcing a smile as you slowly stood up, trying to keep your voice casual. "Y'know... Xavier’s probably found the phone booth by now. I should go back and meet him."
Reese blinked, his expression tightening for a split second. The forced calm he'd been trying to maintain wavered as he set his mug down on the table a little too quickly, the clink of the ceramic against wood echoing in the silence. "Go? Already?" He scratched the back of his neck again, his voice strained. "I mean, it’s cold, and it’s not safe out there… Maybe you should wait a little longer."
You swallowed hard, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. Every instinct told you to get out, but you had to keep your cool. "Thanks for the coffee and everything, but I don’t want Xavier to worry," you replied, taking a step toward the door. "I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, remember?"
Reese stood up as well, his movements stiff, like he was trying to decide whether to stop you. His gaze flickered toward the window again, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, I get it. But, uh… maybe just a few more minutes. You don’t want to be out there alone, do you?"
You glanced toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The unease that had been lurking beneath the surface now felt like a solid weight pressing down on you. Something was very wrong, and you needed to leave—now.
"No, I’m leaving. Thank you for everything, but I need to go," you said, your voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. You tried to move past Reese, your eyes focused on the door, your heart pounding with the hope of reaching it before things got worse.
But then Reese stepped in front of you, his whole demeanor changing in an instant. "No," he said flatly, his voice suddenly devoid of the awkwardness and sheepishness he’d shown before. His tone was cold, almost emotionless, as he closed the distance between you with startling speed.
Before you could react, you felt it—the cold press of metal against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body froze as the unmistakable sensation of a gun pressed hard into your skin.
"You're not going anywhere," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His earlier nervousness was completely gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous. "Sit back down."
Your heart raced, your mind scrambling for a way out, but all you could feel was the sharp edge of fear coursing through you. You swallowed hard, trying not to move too quickly, knowing that with one wrong step, things could spiral even further out of control.
"Reese… please," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking. "You don’t have to do this."
His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation—but his grip on the gun didn’t waver. "Just sit down, and no one has to get hurt."
Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but for now, all you could do was comply and hope that Xavier was still coming for you.
"I promised them a girl..." Reese muttered, his voice trembling slightly, though the gun still pressed firmly against your neck as you looked up at him from the couch. He glanced away from you, his guilt briefly flickering in his eyes. "Then you just... happened to be there. Right place, wrong time, I guess. So...this is how it has to be."
His words hung in the air, cold and final.
"I’m sorry," he added, though there was no comfort in his apology—just a hollow attempt at easing his own conscience.
Your breath hitched as you tried to process his words, the full weight of the situation crushing down on you. He wasn’t just some awkward guy helping you out of kindness. He had been waiting for someone—anyone—to fill a promise. And you had walked right into it.
As you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your neck, the door creaked open. Another man stepped into the room. He was taller than Reese, with a thick, rough appearance—his face shadowed by the dim light. His eyes swept the room, landing on you, taking in the situation with a detached indifference.
"Is this the girl you promised?" the man asked, his voice low and gruff, as if he’d been through this kind of scene too many times to be surprised by it. His gaze shifted briefly to Reese, then back to you, narrowing with interest.
You felt a chill run down your spine as his question hung in the air.
Reese didn’t move the gun from your neck, but you could feel the tension in his body shift as he glanced over at the man, clearly nervous about his arrival. "Yeah, this is her," Reese replied, his voice tight. "I just… need a few more minutes to get her to cooperate."
The other man stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor. His eyes raked over you, cold and calculating. "No time for that," he said flatly. "Get her in the basement. You know how this works, Reese."
Your pulse quickened, fear gripping you tighter as you looked from one man to the other, your mind spinning with panic. What were they planning? You needed to find a way out, and fast, before things escalated even further.
"You’re making a mistake," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "Someone’s coming for me. If you don’t let me go, it’s going to get a lot worse for both of you."
As the weight of your words hung in the air, you weren’t even sure who you were referring to in that moment—Sylus, the man who had kidnapped you in the first place, or Xavier, the one coming to save you. Both names were tangled up in your desperation, your mind too frantic to distinguish between them. All you could do was hope that the threat would ring true, that it would be enough to make Reese think twice.
The taller man smirked, clearly unimpressed. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, turning his back toward the door to pull up the carpet, leaving you alone with Reese and the gun still pressed to your neck. You watch as a metal trap door with a handle is revealed to have been hidden under the carpet and you gasp.
Instinct kicked in, and without thinking, you twisted suddenly, using the brief distraction in Reese’s hesitation to try and break free. You shoved his arm away with everything you had, knocking the gun off balance. For a moment, you thought you had a chance, adrenaline flooding your body as you fought with all the strength you could muster.
"Let go of me!" you screamed, thrashing and kicking as hard as you could. Your elbow connected with Reese's side, and he let out a sharp grunt, but his grip tightened. His face twisted in a mixture of frustration and fear, and he fought back, grabbing your arm and wrenching you toward him.
"Stop it!" Reese growled, struggling to maintain control, but you weren’t going down without a fight. You kicked at his legs, but his hold on you only grew stronger.
The door to the basement creaked open, and before you could react, the taller man reappeared, grabbing you by the other arm. His grip was like iron, and between the two of them, they overpowered you. Your heart pounded as you screamed and clawed, your feet scraping against the floor, but the force of their combined strength was too much.
"No! Please—" you gasped, trying to twist free, but they dragged you toward the open door.
The tall man grunted with effort as they forced you toward the dark, looming stairwell. "Get her down there already," he growled, his tone sharp and impatient.
You struggled even harder, but your muscles were weakening, the adrenaline starting to fade as fear took over. They shoved you roughly down the narrow staircase, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the damp wall. The dimness of the basement swallowed you whole, the air cold and musty. You could feel the fear wrapping around you, tighter with each step they forced you to take.
The taller man was close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cold, damp basement. You felt his rough hand grab the bottom of your nightgown, his fingers curling into the fabric. Panic surged through you as his cold hand snaked across your belly, the touch sending a shiver of disgust up your spine.
You screamed, thrashing wildly against his grip, but his strength overpowered you. The man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Wouldn't hurt to try her out before the boss gets here..." His voice was thick with lust, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that turned your stomach.
His hand slid lower, his fingers beginning to snake inside your underwear. You could feel his hard on pressed against your backside. Fear and revulsion took over, and you knew you had to do something—anything—to stop him.
Thinking fast, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, your voice desperate and shaking. "I'm bleeding! I'm on my period!"
The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. His hand paused, the twisted hunger in his eyes faltering for a moment as confusion flickered across his face.
"You’re what?" he muttered, his brow furrowing. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for you to take a sharp breath, your heart still racing.
"I’m on my period," you repeated, your voice trembling. "It’s—it’s bad. You don’t want to do this right now."
For a brief second, his disgusted expression told you that he was weighing his options. The thought of period blood clearly repulsed him, and his hand slowly pulled away from your underwear, his lips curling in frustration.
"You’re lucky," he growled, wiping his hand on his pants, his face twisted with disdain. "But don’t think that saves you."
His hand shot up before you could react, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the rough concrete floor toward the makeshift shower installed in the corner of the basement. Your scalp throbbed with each pull, the pain sharpening with every step, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry out.
He threw you against the cold, damp wall, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You barely had time to catch your breath before he twisted the rusty shower handle. Water burst from the nozzle, freezing and unforgiving.
“So filthy,” he sneered, standing over you as the icy water soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin. “Maybe this will help?"
The cold bit into your bones, and you hugged yourself, trembling, struggling to stay upright as the water pounded down. He stood there a moment longer, watching with twisted satisfaction, before finally turning away, leaving you shivering on the cold, wet floor of the basement.
Sobbing on the cold, unforgiving basement floor, you shiver, your body pressed against the damp concrete, each breath heavy with despair. The chill seeps into your skin, a numbing cold that echoes the hollow ache inside you. Your tears fall, silent and unnoticed, merging with the grime beneath you as exhaustion pulls you deeper into its grip. In the silence, a desperate wish slips through your mind for someone to save you—anyone, even him.
Though Sylus had stolen you away, his presence now haunts you like a ghost. In this unbearable solitude, even the memory of him feels like a twisted solace. You long for his shadow, for those red, gleaming eyes that once pierced through the darkness, and his stark white hair, a glimmer against the void.
At least he gave you warm baths.
The thought slips through your mind, shame twisting in your chest. How could you even think of Sylus now, when poor Xavier was likely out there, rushing to save you, unaware of the torment you’re enduring? Guilt coils around you, tightening with every heartbeat, yet you can’t shake the cruel comfort of that memory. Sylus, for all the wrong he had done, had never left you to freeze, never left you to shiver and break alone.
Your vision blurs as the weight of everything crushes you, and you can almost see him—an apparition of salvation in your mind. His image flickers, vivid and sharp, as your consciousness begins to fray at the edges. The world slips away, piece by piece, and the cold wraps tighter around you.
The cold water finally stops.
In this fading moment, you cling to that impossible hope, that he, with his red eyes and cold hands, might come for you—if only to save you from a fate worse than death.
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byeolbeloved · 7 months
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This one is mine
pairing ➛ stalker!sheriff!yunho × reader
genre & warnings ➛ enemies to lovers, yunho is a stalker, smut smut smut, dom!Yunho, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
summary ➛ Moving away from your hometown to escape your collage stalker, you start a new life, exploring the new feeling of being a free woman in the city. However, after a messy situation at the club you are back to where you were years ago, unable to escape him.
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"No law will be able to take me away from you"
-
“This is good for me jen” you yell out from the other room so your friend can still hear you through facetime as you bring two pairs of earrings to your face to see which pair would match better with your fit. 
“Yeah yeah I know and I’m glad you’re trying out new experiences but try not to jump into things so quickly yeah? City life is very different from here Y/N, especially when it comes to partying.”
City life was a drastic change from your hometown. You went from knowing everyone from your street and practically growing up with your neighbours and their kids to now rushing down the bustling loud streets of everyone minding their own business. You admit it was an overwhelming change, especially since you’ve never been much of a people-person. Large crowds of people were never you thing. However, after graduating from college, you wanted a change. To experience something new other than being a people-pleasing goody two shoes and to finally start doing things for yourself and connecting with your needs. 
Or at least that was what you told people when they’d ask you why you decided to switch to city life. The dark truth was you needed to escape him. Him and his tall figure that shadowed behind you. His chocolaty soft hair that complimented his milky skin. Those eyes that looked so pure but you knew so well they weren't.
Jeong Yunho.
The man who was so obsessed with breaking you. 
“I’m going to be in safe hands jen. David and alexa are really nice” you said with a smile posing for her in front of the camera “how do I look?”  
“Drop dead gorgeous babe let me know how many guys drool over you” you giggled at her response. You were wearing a black spaghetti strap silk dress that hugged your body frame perfectly. Your hair was curled and your makeup wasn’t too heavy but complemented your facial features. You didn’t have much experience with clubbing but David and Alexa took you to a few bars with a similar atmosphere to a club, it was their way of slowly introducing you to club life. You met Alexa at the coffee shop she works at that happens to be by your house. You went there regularly for breakfast and that's how you two started talking. Shortly after she introduced you to David, they’ve been friends since middle school.  
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For your first time clubbing, you were actually having a lot of fun. You thought you’d feel overwhelmed as the flashing lights and loud music first made you feel slightly anxious when you first stepped in the club. However, just as David told you, after a few shots, you let loose- enough to get you on the dance floor. 
You 3 years ago would have found dancing at the club cringe. You never understood the fun of jumping around sweaty crowds with loud music. You would have rather listened to your music through your headphones on the bus home- maybe even imagining a little scenario in your head matching the type of song you were listening to. But the adrenaline you felt as the loud music vibrated through you, making you feel it shaking your heart, the crowd yelling an “o” as the beat was about to drop and most importantly, Davids really bad dancing- it was the most fun you have had in a while. 
However the night didn’t last too long. It was only 11pm, which to you would have been way past your curfew, however you were made sure that 1am is “demon time” as Alexa told you many times before coming to this club how she wouldn’t allow you to leave any earlier than 3am. People were advising one another to leave the club as apparently police came in and found illegal substances that someone sneaked in.
“Y/N follow me I know a back door we can go out from” Alexa said raising her voice a little since the music was still loud. 
“What about David?” by the time whispers were set out David had left in a rush. “He’s going to get some other people, don’t worry about him, he'll text us when he’s out” she said, now leading the way to the back door.
But as you were trying to keep up with her, people kept getting in your way, causing you to lose her in the blink of an eye. You tried to keep pushing forward in hopes of reaching a wall and finding a door, or any door to get into so you can quietly pull out your phone to text Alexa as you were scared you’d end up losing your phone in the crowd too. However, you felt a hand grasp your wrist and when you turned around your heart sank.
Jeong Yunho.
What was he doing here? Your thought was cut off as you glance down from his face only to see him in police uniform but not just any police uniform. You look at his chest to see a sheriff badge. He was the sheriff? And out of all places… here? You knew instantly this was no coincidence. Stalker Yunho never stopped stalking you. Even after running away. 
“You wanna bring her in Jeong?” a voice sets you out of your thoughts, looking over to see it belonging to a cherry red haired man, shorter than Yunho. He was also wearing a police uniform, must be his partner.
Glancing at his partner then back at you, this time clicking his tongue to the side of his cheek with a slight smirk on his lips, he eyed you up and down, eyes resting on your chest for a few seconds he said “Yeah, this one is mine.” 
They shared a few other words but you didn’t pay attention. Your eyes were glued on Yunho, you were sure you looked dumb right now with your mouth open and probably lost colour from your face but what the hell. You couldn’t believe he still managed to follow you after your big move that felt so right.
You were mad. You wanted to rip that smug look on his face off. But as always, you also felt small. Especially with his hand still grasping your wrist. Your body didn’t react to move it away. You felt a slight heat sensation running down your core. This is the effect Jeong Yunho had on you. 
“Have a good one sheriff!” his partner says. Anxiety flushes through your chest as you realise this is his time he’s going to finally have you to himself. Again. Like always. 
Pushing you through the crowd, you realise his hand never left yours. His grip on you was actually soft and gentle. Gentle enough for you to easily break free from his grasp. But he knew you wouldn’t. Which is why he confidently held you with that grip. As he’s pushing through the crowd, his back is facing you and you take in his figure. He has definitely grown, not only in height but also in his physique. His shoulders seem bigger and broader. You can deny he looks damn good in his uniform too. 
You’re now in his car. Words have not been exchanged yet. Until he breaks the silence with a chuckle. You nervously look at him, confused as to what could be so funny right now while you’re sitting over here about to piss your pants in fear.
“You’ve seemed to adjust well here Y/N” god hearing him say your name sends shivers down your spine every time. The way your name falls out of his mouth almost feels as if he’s cursing you with a spell.
“Good choice with those earrings, the others seemed too tacky” he leans into your ear and whispers. You freeze. 
What.
“You know where I live?” your voice sounded weaker than how you wanted it to come out, cursing in your head knowing he’s probably getting excited from that.
He lets out a laugh. “Oh Y/N, you’ve known me for all those years yet you’re surprised. I will say though, I was a bit hurt since you didn’t tell me about our move.”
“You mean my move”
“Our baby, you’re still mine” suddenly he speeds up his car causing you to jolt back in your seat. “And I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon” he snakes his hand on your thigh.
“You’re sick. You need help Yunho, you’re a psychopath” you have no power in this situation.
“And yet you’re in the sick psychopaths car” he looks at you and you move your head away. You move your head away because you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed that he’s right. It has always been like this. Yunho has never been rough with you, forced you to do anything. At the end of the day it’s you who accepts him. Who melts in his hands.
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You’re now pressed up onto the wall of his apartment. His hands are on each side of your head and he’s staring straight down at you. As if you were his prey. Eyes filled with hunger.
“Let go of me” you try pushing him off
“Let go of you? You’re the one who’s touching me baby” he chuckles out slowly leaning in closer. Your eyes avoid his and you feel the heat rushing through your cheeks. He’s right again.
“Why do you do this? For god sake you’re a cop- a sheriff even. You should know this is wrong” you’re now aware about the fact that you indeed were the one touching him, keeping your hands to your sides, he surely noticed that because he's now dangerously leaned down close to your face, nose grazing yours.
“No law will be able to take me away from you. I’ve made it very clear that you are mine” his lips are now brushing against yours.
Your lips naturally part and you’re now eager for a touch. A kiss. Anything. 
“You really want this to end? Even though you’ve came on my hands and face? You’ve yelled out my name with such lust, should we tell that to the judge once you take me to court? Are you gonna visit me in jail and have me fuck you through my cell?”
His fingers are now trailing over your body. Starting from your hands, going all the way up to your arms, he caresses a line across your collarbone and circles down to your boobs, one hand stopping to pinch a nipple and the other hand sliding straight under your dress instantly feeling your wetness. 
“Does it excite you? Fucking you through my cell?” he breathes onto your lips.
“Yunho…” you breathe out, a hand sliding on the back of his neck while the other tangles in his hair slightly pulling him more down “please kiss me”
Without another word his lips crash onto yours. Hungry, needy, rough as if he’s been waiting to do it for ages.
You whine at the loss of touch as he moves away from you for a second before swiftly lifts you up and takes you to his room.
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Clothes were off in a matter of seconds. Or should you say ripped off. “Yunho!” you shriek when you hear your panties and dress rip and glance at them on the floor.
“I’ll buy you other ones” he lays you down on the bed connecting your lips once more “although you won’t be needing them around me” he chuckles out before sucking a harsh hickey on your neck, causing you to moan. You feel his smile on your neck as you start unbuttoning his shirt. You let out a frustrated huff struggling at removing his gun belt and pants so he helped you remove them.
“Look at you so eager to rip off my clothes. You were demanding me to let go of you minutes ago” he teases as he wiggled out of his briefs, now exposing his hard on, gulping at the idea of it fitting. You’ve done this many times but it’s been so long you almost forgot the sting of pain you’d feel at the beginning.
Sitting up he grabs his cock in his hands. You think he’s about to slide in but instead you feel him sliding his tip between your folds, causing you to grip on the bedsheets and let out a loud whimper. He slides his tip up and down your folds before ribbing circles around your clit with it, both of you shuddering at the sensation. 
“You wanna run away from me Y/N? Hm?” he now leans close to you supporting his weight with both hands by the sides of your head. “Let’s see how fast you run from me.” he says before you feel him slowly entering you.
“One…”
“Two…” he pushes deeper
“Three..” deeper
“Four…” even deeper
“Five” what is he counting
“Six….” oh my god hes counting how many inches hes putting inside you
“Yunho please” you whimper out grabbing his ass and pushing him into you deeper earning a loud grunt from him. He slams into you and starts thrusting.
“Y'know I was gonna play nice guy with you today… even though you left me like that… wanted to make you come back to me.. ah… but that fucking dress didn’t help fuck” he now grabs your hips keeping you in place as you were squirming around.
“Ah Yunho please d-don’t st-ah op” he’s practically drilling into you now and you roll your eyes back. 
“I won’t stop… I never will ah when will you accept me Y/N accept that you’re mine, even your pussy knows this by the way you’re sucking my cock right now god so tight” 
“Mine all fucking mine” he’s whispering in your ear over the sounds of your skin slapping and squelching echoing in the room.
Although his thrusts are rough and hard, there’s a hint of passion in them, your bodies are so close together, skin rubbing against each other, almost as if he’s trying to merge your bodies together.
“Yunho I’m gonna-” you don’t finish your sentence before you feel the familiar feeling on heat rush out of you and soon later you feel his trusts get sloppy before he fills you up still chanting “mine” in your ear. 
You spend a minute there, catching your breaths before you reach your hand out to his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. Your body wants him. Seeing him on top of you right now, his eyes sparkling at you. You are reminded of why although you ran away from him, you always accept him.     
“You’re not going anywhere” kiss
“You can’t run away from me” kiss
"I’ll make you fall in love with me” kiss
“and its gonna happen tonight” thrust.
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cvntydazai · 3 months
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underdog
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when you and your boyfriend work for the port mafia, spending time together isn’t always going to be a top priority, especially when he’s an executive and you’re just an underdog.
pairing; chuuya nakahara x fem!reader
word count; 2.5k
content warning; heavy angst, fluff, cursing, lots of mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!dazai, miscommunication, unedited, slightly suggestive if you squint, chuuya is a sweetie pie who i love with my whole heart
a/n: my second post on here! i’m working on my masterlist and stuff right now but formatting that stuff can be so boring so it takes me forever.
you woke to the feeling of the cold morning breeze against your shivering body. the bed felt empty on chuuya’s side, as it always did. he usually left for work earlier than you did, claiming it was mori’s request that he be there at the crack of dawn but some days it felt like he did it by choice.
while chuuya was an executive under port mafia, you were simply an underdog, taking on miniscule tasks that don’t require the attention of any higher up. you tried to reason with your bitter feelings on the title, it was better to be out of the spotlight. so why did you want to be in it so badly?
your phone that laid on your bedside table rung, chuuya’s contact name stared back at you. with a sigh you reached for the phone and accepted your lover’s call. “hello?” you start, a moment of silence before chuuya speaks.
“hey, mori said there’s a job for you.” of course, mori wouldn’t waste time calling someone of such low importance so chuuya was tasked with it.
chuuya explained the details of the mission. it was simple, as they all were. you needed to collect missed payments from someone the port mafia worked with. you were also informed they weren’t hostile, that it was just to collect money.
“if you don’t feel comfortable going alone i can send akutagawa to go with you.” his concern was noticeable even through the phone.
“no, it’s fine. these kinds of jobs bore him anyways.” and they bore you too, but you never voice your complaints.
“okay, just.. be safe.” you agreed, ending the call immediately after.
you got ready in the time it took for the cab to arrive at your apartment. there was no small talk on the ride there, just the silent hum of lost radio signal on the stereo. this would take maybe an hour or two tops and then you would have nothing left on your schedule for the day. that’s how it typically went, no work of any importance.
“we’re here.” you thanked the driver and stepped out.
-
it took an hour and a half, only because the shop owner who owed money did not want to cough up the cash to pay his debts. eventually you had to threaten him, and he finally agreed to pay what he owed.
with the money in hand you headed for the port mafia in the same car you came here with. the same silence, same boredom. when you arrived there was no one to greet you so you decided to take the money up to mori yourself.
you passed akutagawa on the way there, he stopped you. “are you going to see mori?” you nodded, motioning to the suitcase that held the heaping amount of money. “just let me take it, i’ll let him know you went home after finishing the job.” he said, snatching the suitcase from you quicker than you could comprehend.
of course, you could never see the boss yourself. the higher ups had to always be the ones, why couldn’t it ever just be you delivering your work to your boss? it wasn’t fair, but you didn’t dare speak out.
“thanks, akutagawa.” he nodded, turning back to mori’s office.
when you reached the entrance again there was the same driver, you sat in the same seat.
“going home?” you thought about it for a second.
“no, take me to the nearest bar.” he complied without saying another word.
the nearest bar happened to be one you frequented, when you entered you were greeted by the bartender who was currently cleaning off glasses from previous customers. you took your usual spot at the center of the bar, ordering what you usually do. you drank in silence, playing with the hem of your coat while you thought to yourself.
the coat was chuuya’s gift to you after he noticed how much you loved wearing it. even after he handed it over to you, sometimes you would still put it on his side of the coat rack so it smelled like him when you wore it. he used to tease you about it, saying you could just start wearing his cologne too if you liked the way he smelled so much.
the coat that once kept you warm felt colder now. maybe it was because it had aged significantly since it was gifted to you and was now littered in holes, or maybe it was because you hadn’t properly seen chuuya in weeks and the coat doesn’t smell of him anymore.
he was always busy, always having missions to go on while you rotted away at home like the useless underdog you were. could being a higher up and risking your life be worth it, if it meant you could see him more?
“hey, stranger.” you knew that voice anywhere.
“hi, dazai.” you didn’t look up to meet his eyes, only feeling his presence sitting beside you.
even with dazai being in the agency now, he was still your closest friend. you still frequently saw him, usually to drink but sometimes to just talk. chuuya didn’t like it whatsoever but never made an effort to stop you. he would remind you that port mafia doesn’t meddle with the agency if it doesn’t have to, and you would reply with the same “i know” as you left.
he ordered a drink on his never ending tab and hummed a tune to himself. he was awfully quiet, so unlike him.
“you know i’m gonna ask you what’s wrong, right?” he broke the silence, and for the first time since he arrived you looked him in the eye. he saw the tears welling in your eyes and it hurt him to see you like that.
“is it chuuya? are you two fighting?” the only reason he could think of.
you let out a huff, taking the last swig of your drink.
“wish we were, at least we’d be talking to eachother.” you wiped your mouth, motioning to the bartender that you wanted another.
you could see the gears in dazai’s brain working in real time, deciphering your words like a case. you knew he would figure it out eventually, but all you needed right now was comfort so you gave into his curiosity.
“i want to ask for a job promotion, i’m so tired of being seen as a weakling in the port mafia.” you admitted, pulling your newly filled drink closer to you.
dazai didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised, his eyes held sympathy for you, you hated it. he cleared his throat, as if he was about to tell you the world was ending right then and there.
it felt like it was, you were losing your one and only love to a merciless job and no one in the port mafia took you seriously no matter how hard you tried to prove to them you could get work done.
“correct me if i’m wrong but.. is this really about wanting to move up in the mafia? or is it about wanting to see chuuya more?” he solved the case, just like that.
you didn’t bite back your tears any longer, letting them fall into your crossed arms as you sniffled. you were just about to take another gulp of your drink but dazai stopped you, giving you a knowing look, you didn’t handle your booze well and he knew it.
the alcohol wouldn’t solve your problems but maybe it would dull the pain in your heart. ignoring dazai’s pleading look, you drank again. nothing mattered right now, not even the hangover you’d feel in the morning.
dazai knew he couldn’t stop you, but at least he could watch you to make sure you were safe.
-
a couple of hours later and a few drinks down you were feeling the effects in full, your tears morphed into giggles and you felt on cloud nine. dazai had a few drinks in him as well, but not nearly as many as you. continuing to ignore his looks of concern you tried your hand at the dart board mounted on the wall ahead of you.
you were just about to take your shot when dazai’s ringing phone startled you.
“hey! i would’ve gotten it that time!” you shouted, slurring your words.
dazai rolled his eyes and accepted said call, already knowing who was on the other end without having to check the caller id.
“where is she?” chuuya’s harsh voice rang through the phone.
“the bar next to the port mafia building.” he replied calmly, ignoring the slew of curses from chuuya.
“i’ll be there in a second, make sure she doesn’t have anymore to drink.”
when chuuya arrived at the bar he walked onto the scene of you fighting dazai for a bottle of wine and the bartender watching with an unreadable expression. you wouldn’t have even noticed he was there if dazai didn’t greet him.
“what are you doing here?” you frowned, snatching the bottle of wine at last now that dazai was distracted.
“taking you home, put down the bottle.” he could tell you were shitfaced just by looking at you.
“i’ll go with you, but i’m taking the wine.” you reasoned, knowing chuuya wouldn’t be leaving this bar without you.
he agreed, sighing whilst digging in his pockets for his wallet. he slammed a wad of cash onto the counter, apologizing to the poor bartender who had to deal with two idiots the entire evening.
“i’m sorry about that, this should be enough to cover both of their tabs and the bottle of wine.” the bartender offered a smile of gratitude and wished chuuya a good night.
dazai followed the two of you out of the bar, hands stuffed deep in his pant pockets.
“do you.. need a ride?” chuuya asked, already regretting the simple act of kindness. you stood at his side, eyes trained at your feet with your bottle of wine tucked tightly under your shoulder.
“nah, i’ve got someone coming. i’ll see you around.” he took his leave, and chuuya quickly ushered you in his car.
the car ride home was silent, the only thing to be heard was your fiddling fingers. you wanted to say something, anything to break the tension but your brain felt like a melting pot of emotions. you were mad, yet you also yearned for him.
“i-“ you began, he stopped you.
“not right now, we can talk when i’m not driving.” if that wasn’t a dead giveaway that he was angry you didn’t know what was.
it was quiet the entire way back to your shared apartment. the anxiety bubbling inside you helped you sober up, you were still long gone. despite his obvious frustration, he still opened the car door for you and guided you up the steps into your home.
the second the door shut his mouth was moving.
“why didn’t you tell me you were going to be gone? do you have any idea how worried i was?” his voice raised and fired up, it sparked your own rage.
“well, i’m sorry i want to do something other than be your housewife.” a confused grunt left chuuya’s lips, never had he thought of you as his housewife.
his confusion only made you more upset, he truly had no idea how you felt.
“i’m sick of being here, never having anything to do.” you complained, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass for your wine.
chuuya followed you, a stern expression on his face as he quietly listened. he could see you were hurt in a way he desperately wanted to understand, but hearing you say you were sick of being home was like a bullet to the chest. this place was supposed to be a safe place for the both of you, had he done anything to give you the impression of otherwise?
“and no one in the mafia thinks i’m useful, not even you.” you mumbled, fumbling with cork screw that sealed the wine shut.
chuuya suddenly grabbed the bottle from your hand, now looking you dead in the eye. the grip on the bottle made the veins in his hand bulge, you weren’t sure how the glass hadn’t shattered from the force.
“who said that?” he asked, an unnerving calmness in his voice that worried you.
“said what?” you gulped, no longer worried about your wine.
“said you were useless.” silence on your part.
“no.. no one’s said it but i can feel their judgement. hell, even akutagawa thinks i’m useless.”
“akutagawa thinks everyone is useless.” he argues.
“not you, he respects you.” chuuya releases his hold on the wine, instead occupying his hands around your waist.
his touch is gentle, almost cooling against your flushed skin. he leans his head into your neck, breathing in your scent which you’re sure smells of a mixture of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. “and.. it’s not just that i want to be recognized more in the port mafia. i also want to see you more.”
your confession makes him smile, you can feel his lips curving upwards on your neck.
“is that was this is about? you miss me?” you’re half tempted to push him off of you now, his ego undoubtedly stroked. “why didn’t you just say that, sweetheart.”
“it’s hard sometimes, you’re always busy and i barely see you.” he hums in agreement, pressing light kisses your shoulders.
it was hard to stay mad at him for too long when this was his way of apologizing, drowning you in physical affection that melts not only your heart but your body.
“well, if you really don’t like where you stand in the port mafia right now, I'll talk to mori. no one thinks you’re useless, hell i thought you liked staying out of the dirty business.” the mafia itself was all dirty business, but you understood what the meaning was in this context. “and i’ll try my hardest to be home more, i never mean to be gone so long darlin’, work is just hectic sometimes.”
you turned to look at him, his beautiful eyes looking at you with all the softness in the world. “i know, i’m so sorry i made a big deal out of all of this. i just felt so lost.”
he understood, “don’t be sorry, you were hurting and i should have seen it. i’m sorry, i love you more than anything.”
“it’s okay, but i think that booze is catching up to me, i need to sit down now.” with a soft laugh he guided you to your shared couch.
the rest of the night he spent pampering you, making you two dinner and putting on a movie for you to watch in the living room. you laid there in peace, your head resting against his chest while his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.
for the first time in weeks, when you fell asleep beside him you woke to him in the morning.
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miley1442111 · 3 months
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shocker- a.hotchner
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summary: you have some news for your husband.
pairing: aaron hotchner x wife! reader
warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mild angst, happy ending :)
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Aaron had a day off. A day off from work, from paperwork, from travel. And he had you all to himself. 
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He woke up much earlier than you ever would, but instead of getting in his morning thirty-minute run, he stayed in bed with you, allowing himself a few extra minutes of sleep. God, you were gorgeous like this. Unconscious and unbothered, a soft smile on your face as you lay beside him in your shared bed. Most of the time he couldn’t even believe he knew someone like you, let alone married you. 
“You’re getting handsy Mr. Hotchner,” you chuckled, swatting his hand that had in fact, landed on your ass. 
He chuckled back. “I can’t appreciate my wife?”
You finally opened your eyes, only to roll them at him. He laughed and pressed a kiss against your cheek as you yawned, too tired from the long week to get up yet. 
“We should do something today,” he pressed soft kisses to your collarbone as you nodded to what he was saying. “Movie?”
“Nothing new is out,” you reminded him. 
“Park?”
“Jess isn’t a fan of the park anymore,” you yawned. 
“Shopping?”
You stared at him in bewilderment for a moment. “Are you insane?”
“Yeah, I guess that one was a long shot.”
“We could stay in bed all day,” you offered.
“As much as I would love that,” a harsh smack landed on your ass and you yelped. “We do have two children to look after.”
“Send them to Jessica’s,” you groaned. “We haven’t had any time together in months, Aaron. I adore our kids, but I also adore my husband, and I want to see him.”
Aaron’s heart swelled, and he needed no more convincing. “I’ll call her now.”
You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”
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God, this day was more than needed. 
Sending Jack and Jessie off to their cousin's house meant you and Aaron had a whole morning to watch an entire film, without someone interrupting, then you got up and went to the farmer’s market together, and had a great time. 
“I love you,” you smiled, leaning over the centre console of the car as Aaron reversed out of your parking spot. He chuckled, then took your hand. 
“I love you too.”
“Aaron,” you smiled. 
“Y/n,” he responded, smiling cheekily. 
“Are you happy?” 
“More than anything,” he smiled. “I love our life, so much.”
“Do you want more kids?” you asked nervously. Truthfully, this is what today had been about. Four weeks ago, you found out you were pregnant. It was an accident, yes, but hopefully not a mistake. How ould he take it? Jess was planned completely and Jack had been planned too (granted, not with you but, you knew the Aaron Hotchener way). This was totally unplanned. You two were both busy people with busy jobs you loved a lot.
“Maybe in a few years-”
“I’m pregnant.” 
His mouth opened in shock, then close to a straight line. 
“You’re not happy,” you responded for him.
“I’m very happy,” he nodded. “Just… shocked and a little bit confused as to why you told me while I’m driving.”
You chuckled, but the rest of the car ride was silent and your anxiety grew. What if he wasn’t happy? What would happen? Had you ruined the day?
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You rushed inside the house and away from him, locking yourself in your bedroom under the guise of a nap. You had gotten a full 12 hours of sleep, and now, there you were with a head full of anxious thoughts and awful ideas. 
“Can I come in?” he knocked on the door, and you just mumbled a response. You heard him sigh and unlock the door from the outside, and everything came crashing down. Your eyes watered, and immediately wrapped you up in his arms with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” you whispered, tears falling down your face. “It’s ok Aaron.”
“I’m happy about this,” he nodded, reassuring you. His hands cupped your cheeks, turning your attention towards him. “I’m just… surprised. Jess is only 2, and Jack is getting older everyday. I was just scared about the thought of having a newborn. I’m not unhappy, I’m just scared.”
“I’m really scared about this,” you admitted. “Our last pregnancy was less than… easy.”
“This time, I’ll be here the whole time,” he promised. 
“Aaron, you’ll be at work and so will I-”
“I’m leaving the BAU. I want to be here more,” he pulled you closer. “I want to be here for you and the kids.”
You stared up at him in shock. “Really?”
“Yes,” he smiled. 
"So you'll stay home with the kids?" You asked.
"I want nothing more," he smiled.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)
549 notes · View notes
vainvenus · 6 months
Text
⌲;꒰ Wonka Welcome! ꒱
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Pairing :: Willy Wonka x Fem!Reader
Synopsis :: There's a new bakery in town and Wonka stops by to give the owner a warm welcome.
Includings :: Slight spoilers, events happen after the movie, Wonka speaking nonsense/being illiterate, him pulling shit out of hat, slight flirting, this is really short (im just trying to dump my drafts), nothing but fluff
An :: "He's the worst Wonka" ok but he's the hottest so send requests!
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"What's that you got there, Noodle?"
Willy questioned, brows furrowed but eyes full of curiosity as Noodle walked back into the shop. She had a small tart-like thing in her hand, a few crumbs dusted across her chin as she licked her fingers.
It was small yet colorful, some sort of filling under a few fruits as Noodle held it out to the brunette to take a bite.
"A tart."
He hummed, taking a bite from it and his eyes went wide as he hummed again after tasting it. The crust had a perfect crisp taste to it, the fruit each tasting perfectly ripe.
"Delicious! Did you make that all on your own? How? Where?"
Noodle shook her head as she finished the rest of it, wiping her fingers down on the bottom of her pants. "Not me. There's a baker, she just opened up across from us, don't know how you haven't noticed."
"What!?"
Will practically teleported over to the window, hands pressed against it like a child who was passing his shop for the first time. His eyes were glistening as he saw there was a Bakery shop positioned right across from him.
"Well, I think I ought to say hello! Give her a warm Wonka welcome!" He hummed, adjusting his top hat as he walked out the doors and across the street.
He looked up, eyes scanning across the shop's sign and he narrowed them a bit. Noodle had been continuing to teach him how to read but of course, he still had a few issues.
"[Mispronounced version of name]'s blissful bakes." He muttered to himself before pushing the door open, the sound of a bell chiming above him as he did so.
"Welcome! Menu's right above me and you can order when you're ready." He heard a soft voice chirp.
He walked a bit closer, seeing a girl wearing a simple outfit with a white apron that had red hearts printed all over it. Her hair styled in [hairstyle]/wrapped up. She was mixing something in a bowl before turning around.
She turned her head to Willy and he had felt his heart stutter for a second when their eyes had met and a smile automatically grew across his face.
"Oh! You're the Willy Wonka, right?"
"The one and only, ma'am!"
"It's so nice to finally meet you!" She set the bowl down, walking back to the front counter as she held out her hand. "I'm [Y/n]."
Oh. That's how it was pronounced, he thought it seemed a bit odd when he said it out loud earlier.
He took her hand, turning it so he could place a soft kiss upon the back of her palm. "A pleasure! I can't believe we haven't talked yet!"
"I'm a homebody. I don't roam around town too much unless it's to get here or more ingredients." She answered and he had nodded.
"Well, I believe a warm Wonka welcome is far overdue."
"A warm Wonka welcome? Just what is that?" She asked, smiling a bit out of amusement.
"This!" Willy exclaimed, taking off his hat as reaching his hand into it and pulled out a chocolate bouquet of flowers even equipped with a chocolate bow.
[Y/n]'s eyes widened with surprise as she smiled and took them, surprised that they weren't sticky at all but felt as if they had been in the fridge.
She had broke off one of the petals from the chocolate rose, popping it into her mouth. She hummed in satisfaction as she grabbed another.
"Oh my god. This is the best chocolate I've ever had."
"Thank you! I get that a lot." Wonka smiled and she had giggled, taking another bite of the bouquet.
"Please, let me give you a warm welcome as well. Choose anything and it's on the house."
The brunette tilted his head, brows furrowing a bit. "Why would it be on your house?"
"Huh?" Her expression matched his confusion as she shook her head. "No- that just means it's free!"
"Ohhh." His eyes scanned the menu, there were a lot of choices he honestly felt a bit overwhelmed. He finally decided, pointing to it.
"What're you pointing at me for?"
"Can I not have you?" He asked, his tone a bit playful as he leaned against the counter with a smug smile.
"Why don't you pick something actually on a menu?" She giggled, rolling her eyes playfully and he chuckled.
"Alright, alright." He hummed. "How about one of your tarts? One with strawberries, blueberries and kiwis."
"Alright, one tart coming right your way."
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414 notes · View notes
lamnwar · 7 months
Note
Hey me again, lmao
Could you do Kiyoshi + Gom as husbands, If so thank youuu xxxx
Hi there, love! 💕 love love love this request!! I spend all my time daydreaming abt being married to these boys LMAO it's embarassing 😭 alsooo ik I took long before getting to your request but I wanted to finish all the big os requests first before working on hcs bc it's more heafty so sorry for my shitty habit of taking too long for simple stuff :((
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HAPPILY EVER AFTER // KNB Headcanons
Context: what I imagine married life to be with these characters. 🥰
Pairing: GOM + Kiyoshi x gn! Reader (gender not specified)
Warnings: mainly fluff and crack, can get a bit suggestive in Aomine's (of course it's always him 😭) so mdni!
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AKASHI
Rich, handsome and a gentleman!!! Literally the Holy Grail of husbands
The kind to spoil his pretty spouse out of love
Takes you out on a date at some fancy restaurant at least once a week
He's also very independent!! Now, I think he's the kind to hire people to help around the house but that doesn't stop him from doing chores
He'll always help you doing stuff for the house if you need
He has amazing taste!! Take him furniture shopping and you'll end up with on of those houses you see in AD
Brings up the subject of you dropping your work so you can stay home while he's the breadwinner
He's a bit traditional in that sense because he really doesn't want you to work if it's unecessary, you know?
I mean he's crazy rich so does that even make sense to make you work?? (Unless you absolutely want to)
Wakes you up every morning with a kiss!
He always had the proudest smile when he introduces you to people as his spouse <3
MIDORIMA
TREATS YOU LIKE A ROYAL OMG
This man takes marriage very seriously, listen
He most likely did a deep analysis of your birthchart before deciding that you are the right one for him
Naturally, as your husband, he gotta get you your lucky item of the day everyday
You don't even believe in that stuff but it's his love language, I guess
Not much one to go on dates unless you want to, then he'll be up for it
He's more one to enjoy time with you at home
Something like having a nice diner and cuddling while you read
The kind to love going grocery shopping with you
Every once in a while, he'll buy a fancy bottle of wine just to share it with you
A very supportive husband!! Every project you have in mind, he's already done the research to find the most efficient way for you to accomplish your plans
Not a PDA guy but he'll happily hold your hand when you're at gatherings together
May not be very vocal about his love for you but you better believe that he talks proudly of his spouse to every one he knows
KISE
He is OBSESSED with you
Man never left the honeymoon phase, he's so crazy about you
Takes you to his fancy modelling events and shows you off to every one he meets
He also buys you lots of clothes and acessories
Dare you say something is cute, he's already inside the shop buying it for you
Tries his best as chores but it's not really his thing
Will help as much as he can, though!
Breakfast in bed kind of guy hihi
And it happens a lot because let's be real, that man isn't the kind to let you sleep at night
Like I said earlier, he's never left the honeymoon phase so... yeah
Wants to be the kind of husband that gives you his credit card and tell you to do what you want with it but you have to decline
It's ok though, he'll fine plenty of other ways to spoil you
You have that cute habit every week of taking baths together
The kind to miss a day of work to take care of you when you're sick!
AOMINE
Daiki never thought he'd ever get married, but then he met you
Not the best at being a husband but he really tries!
Like he makes an effort of not being too lazy and messy
Leaves the chores to you mainly, but will give a hand
Like if you're cleaning around and need to put stuff on the top shelf, he'll do it for you
Not the best cook so he lets you make food while he does the dishes
I'm trying to delay the obvious but that man never stops being horny for you
Literally sits and daydream of fucking you on every surface of your home
Gets so riled up at the sight of that ring on your finger, he can't believe your all his
The kind to follow you everywhere you go, even if it's for some stupid errand
Takes you out to the beach or for a picnic as soon as the sun is shining outside
Buys you clothes he thinks you'd look good in and surprisingly, he's got amazing taste
Loves when you refer to him as "husband" in conversation!!
MURASAKIBARA
So casual about being married, most likely because to him that doesn't change a thing about the way he feels about you
Likes that now he gets to have you with him all the time
Cooks for you! Buys you snacks! Takes you out on restaurant dates!
Sharing is caring so he only ever shares his snack with you
I can see him being into matching outfits (if you can find any that fits both him and you)
A bit lazy so he doesn't help around that much unless you tell him to
And even that, he'd do some chores before getting distracted
But listen, it's ok though because he makes up for it in over ways
He's very caring, only because you're his spouse
Cuddles in bed, at all time! He just feels clingy sometimes
He smiles softly when he plays with your hand and sees the ring on your finger
He likes to sit you on his lap often
Basically being a husband doesn't differ much from how he was as a boyfriend
Very casual about calling you his spouse all the time, even in front of others
KIYOSHI
Kiyoshi Teppei was born to be a husband!!
Because he grew up with his grandparents, he's got the habit of taking care of a household and the people living in it
So he naturally took in most of the chores and he's good at it!
Doesn't want you to get tired either so he'll do most things
Pays attention to all the little things so you're always comfortable
He also likes going for a run/the gym with you and he's so encouraging!
Has the stupidiest smile on his face everytime he looks at you
He holds his grandparents as a reference so he really hopes you'll both grow old together, still madly in love
Don't get that man started on building a family, he just gets too excited at the idea of being a parent!
He'd be a great one too, but the final decision is up to you. Either way, he's just happy being with you.
I don't know what else to say because he's just made to be a husband, yk?
Yeah, probably the best person to marry <3 (I'm very biased)
523 notes · View notes
donatellawritings · 7 months
Note
tella baby can i be 🧋anon? and while i have you here i am dyingggg to see how our sweetheart latina would handle rafe when he’s in his mean mood, sending you 💋
of course! i’m going to probably end up making an anon list to keep track lol - sending besitos right back <3
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contrary to popular belief, it actually took a lot for rafe to become so annoyed and frustrated with you, that it bubbled into anger, depending on the day. you see, it was rare for you to act out, you were usually so smiley and willing to do anything, as long as you were by his side, but for some reason, you had become the complete opposite — you’d become a spoiled little brat. and it was safe to say that rafe was going to have to put a stop to your unruly behavior, before it became a bad habit.
it all started earlier in the morning, you were dead set on having a girls’ day with kiara, anxious to go shopping on the mainland and carefully examine the turtle eggs that were dangerously close to hatching. you had your outfit picked out - a freakishly short skirt that clung to your curves, the smooth curve of your ass being the only thing that kept the skirt from riding up and revealing your lace thong & a juicy couture baby tee that stuck to your skin, as if you were wet, your unconcealed nipples making an imprint against the flimsy cloth.
rafe knew of these plans, and normally, he was okay with whatever you decided to wear, seeing as he was usually right on your tail, tanned arm wrapped securely around your waist as you made your way through the outer banks. yet, the thought of you prancing your little naively friendly ass through not only the island, but in the far distance of the mainland just didn’t sit right with him. especially, once his eyes fell on how with each movement you made, the under-curve of your ass was starting to become more and more apparent.
there was no chance in hell that he was going to let you go out, at least not in that outfit.
choosing to take the approach of being the sweet and devoted boyfriend, who’d give you everything that you wished for, rafe carefully approached you from behind, gently locking his hands around your hips as you precisely pressed a powder puff under the freshly concealed skin of your under eye, “hi pretty girl, s’this what you’re wearing today?” he questioned sweetly, sliding his arms around your front, earning a blushing close-mouthed smile from you.
you nodded, pressing the powder puff to your opposite under eye as rafe gently pulled you against his chest, making you stand upright against him as he took in the your reflections in the mirror of your vanity, his smile fading as your skirt bunched up at the valley where you hips and thighs met, “i don’t think so, mama,” he decided, condescendingly tapping the exposed skin on the side of your thighs, before pulling away from you.
initially oblivious to just how serious rafe was being, you adjusted your skirt, a forced breathy laugh leaving your swollen lips, “yes, i am,” you playfully bit back, missing the way rafe cocked his head at you as you returned to perfecting your unfinished makeup.
rafe stood dumbfounded, his head cocked to the side as he nodded to himself in disbelief - you had to be fucking with him, this had to be a joke. wordlessly, rafe blamed himself - maybe he spoiled you a bit too much, maybe he was too soft with you, maybe, just maybe, you were just fucking with him and would change into different clothes, before you left, just to get a rise out of him?
you carefully brushed your spoolie through the wispy lashes that enhanced your naturally curled ones, bending over the vanity a bit further to get a close-up look of your makeup. you could feel rafe’s unforgiving eyes burning holes into you as you carefully smeared your sheer pink dior lipgloss across your lined lips, before pulling away from the vanity and turning to face rafe, “rafe, why are you looking at me like that? you’re making me feel bad,” you pouted, your stomach sinking as he shrugged, before making his way out of your bedroom.
“y’wanna go out dressed like that, then do it - but don’t fuckin’ call me when some guy tries taking advantage of your little ass and your cousin can’t protect you,” rafe spoke eerily calmly, his low tone sending a shock to your nervous system as you rolled your eyes, prohibiting the threatening warm tears from welling in your eyeliner laced eyes.
rafe was about two feet out of your bedroom door when he heard you sniffle, “i don’t need you to protect me.” you mumbled boldly, causing rafe to stop still in his tracks, forcing out a dark laugh before he paced backwards into your bedroom.
“what did you just say?” he asked, watching the way you jumped as he re-entered your room, the sight of your skirt riding up, once again, while you threw your necessities into your purse causing his jaw to lock.
your eyes widened, your chest thumping as you could’ve sworn he was out of earshot, choosing to remain silent as you pulled your purse to sit comfortably on your shoulder. your french manicured nails dug into the leather strap of your purse as you kept your head down, forcing your tear-blurred gaze to stay strained on your sandaled feet. it wasn’t until rafe had stood directly in front of you, his rough hand squeezing your cheeks as he lifted your head, forcing you to look up at him.
“i’ve been tryin’ really hard not to lose my patience with you, kid, okay?” he confessed, his shoulders tense as he tightened his grip on your doll face, “watch how you speak to me, before that fucking mouth gets you into trouble,” he added, before hastily snatching his hand away from your face as he backed away from you.
you rapidly blinked away the mascara and eyeliner tinted tears that fought to spill from your waterline as you bit into the sore skin of your bottom lip. you knew that you’d purposely been testing the waters all week with rafe, a sick part of you became obsessively curious to see that other side of him that those closest to you warned you about and were freakishly afraid of. however, a damaged part of you liked seeing rafe let his guard down and assert his dominance over you, behind your cloud tears, you were somewhat enticed by it.
you silently made your way downstairs as the sound of kiara’s car horn blaring accompanied the slap of your sandals against the hardwood floor. rafe closed the distance between you two as you made it to the living room, nudging your chin with the side of his ringed finger, “don’t start crying, you started that shit, y’been acting up all week,” he waved his hand.
you opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly cut off by rafe who beat you to the punch, knowing he’d give in to you the moment he heard your voice, so he placed his titanium debit card into your free hand, before stepping out of your way, motioning his hand towards the front door, “y’don’t need me to protect you, so go,” he spat, even going so far as to walk towards your front door.
“stop it, rafe,” you whined, rushing to grab his hand before he could open the front door, a sharp sniffle coming from your nose as you wrapped your arms around his tense neck, “i’m sorry,” you mumbled into the side of his neck, pressing your glossed lips to the skin. you let out a soft whine when rafe remained still, his arms refusing to enclose around you.
“i’m sorry,” you repeated, standing in the tips of your toes as you tried to pull his closer to you — but rafe wouldn’t budge.
you pulled your head away from rafe’s neck, your once precise eyeliner now slightly smudged as rafe looked down at you, a look of displeasure still painted on his structured face. your soft shadowy eyes welled with tears as you accepted that you had pushed him to this point of silence. rafe remained silent for the sake of not wanting to fully lash out at you, he knew that he could break you pretty easily and figured that he wouldn’t stoop that low, unless he truly needed to.
rafe pulled your arms from around him, his large hands now gripping your wrists, “y’want me to talk to you, princess?” he cooed menacingly, a sick smirk tugging on his pink lips as you nodded furiously.
“okay, tell kiara that you’re not coming out today,” rafe demanded, shaking his head the moment you tried to protest, pressing his forehead against yours as he backed your against the door.
“but she’s already here, an-” you spoke, pressing your lips together as rafe kissed his teeth.
“i don’t give a fuck, tell her-” he pressed his forehead deeper into yours.
“babe, plea-” you cried.
rafe dropped one of your wrists from his grasp, before sliding it behind your head, fjsting a generous amount of your loosely curled hair, tugging your head back, “shut the fuck up, i swear to god i am trying to be fuckin’ nice,” he spoke through gritted teeth, biting back a laugh as he pulled away from you entirely.
rafe ran his hands through his buzzed hair, before turning to face you once more, “get the fuck upstairs!” he screamed, his voice hoarse, “fuck!” he shouted.
your sticky lips parted, you kept your head down as you made your way towards the staircase that led to your bedroom. before you could successfully walk past rafe, he grabbed your waist, his hands closing around your throat, “do you think i’m a fuckin’ joke, like i’m one of these fuckin’ guys that you could just bitch around, huh?” he ranted, your body bent at an uncomfortable angle as he lightly shook you by your neck.
“no,” you cried, your small hand wrapping around his flexed wrist.
“stop fucking with me, a’ight - i don’t want to fuckin’ break you,” he sealed with a sloppy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat, his spit making your mouth slippery as some of your own spit made its way down your chin.
rafe roughly pulled away from you, a line of spit connecting your lips as he wiped his mouth, leaving you a dumbfounded mess with your smeared, spit covered lipgloss that smudged onto your chin.
“go upstairs,” he breathed out, walking towards the front door, giving himself the task of telling kiara that you wouldn’t be joining her for today’s festivities.
putting the bratty act to rest, you softly smiled to yourself as you jogged upstairs, your miniskirt riding up with each bounce of your hips.
647 notes · View notes
cupcaketeddybehr · 24 days
Text
when your credit card declines pt. 1
featuring: nanami and toji (pt. 2 with sukuna, geto, and gojo coming soon!! i was going to include it all in one but wanted to feed you guys because its been soooo long!)
thank you so much to @luvxoxo for the request!! i loved writing it and hope this is what you had in mind!! for anyone that has a request/just wants to chat, my ask box is open!!
so sorry this took so long! i promise i'm back 💗
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Nanami
you decide to take yourself on a little shopping spree after surviving this week (or most of it anyways). today’s entitled customers pushed you over the edge, with the workday ending with a screaming match and the bakery closing early. after running it for the past five years, you hadn’t gotten a customer as rude as the one you got today. upset about their iced tea having too much ice, they proceeded to throw the entire glass on nobara, one of your employees.
after trying to call your boyfriend, kento, and his phone going to voicemail, you started to lose it. practically glaring a hole through your phone, you waited for the voicemail beep. when it went off, so did you.
“kento i’m so fucking annoyed right now. i hate everyone and i just need to go shopping. don’t wait for me for dinner, i’ll be at the mall.”
angrily speeding out of the bakery parking lot and to the mall, you slam the car door as you take out your credit card, ready to spend your entire life’s savings on retail therapy. you weren’t even sure how much you had in your bank account, but you were ready to test it.
you walk into onitsuka tiger and begin pulling things off the rack. after eying their newest runway collection in your favorite youtuber’s videos, you have your heart set on their winter coats and midi dresses. you also need at least two of their shoes in different colors.
too bothered to try anything on, you walk to the counter with everything in your arms. people glance over their shoulders at you, watching you periodically drop things on your way to the cashier. you grumble and bend down to pick the clothes up, still too annoyed to care about anything besides your shopping. as you approach, you spot a familiar blondie talking to the cashier.
he turns around with a concerned look in his eyes and a gigantic onitsuka tiger bag in his hand. he walks towards you after glancing behind him to thank the cashier. “sweetheart… i listened to your voicemail... are you okay? do you want to get some wetzel’s pretzels and talk about it?”
while you look at him, confused, he takes all the clothes from your hands and walks around the store to put them back. “we can get the cinnamon kind you like” he tries.
“ken, I was going to buy those.” you snap, mildy infuriated.
he pulls your resisting body into a hug and kisses your forehead. “honey, you spent almost the entirety of your bank account on those three pairs of gentle monster sunglasses last week” he chuckles.
you glare at him. saying “no i did not,” knowing full well that you did. your ‘entire life’s savings’ was currently at a grand total of 50 dollars.
he takes your hand and brushes your fisted knuckles with his thumb as hands you the giant bag in his hands. “text me next time you run out of money, okay? i want to provide for you.”
“but you never spend money on yourself, ken.” you say, slowly looking through the bag. in it is every single thing you had in your hands earlier and more. the black denim dress, long brown coat, navy blue shoes, and much, much more. you look up at your boyfriend, eyes watering at his gesture.
he shakes his head, “you and what you want matter more to me than anything else.” he runs his hand over the back of your head, fingers gently caressing your hair. “i know this week was especially hard for you so i had these waiting here for pickup since wednesday. you just beat me here.” he chuckles. “i know this doesn’t make up for those shitty customers, but i hope it makes you feel better.”
you hug him tightly, “how did you know?”
he kisses the top of your head, “i’ve been looking at your pinterest boards for inspiration”
you pull him in for a kiss, “genuinely, honey, I don’t know how i got so lucky with you.”
“i’m the one who’s lucky, sweetheart.” he says.
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Toji
you walk through the mall with your boyfriend, squealing with excitement as you spot the new jellycat diner. “TOJI! look!” you point happily. “which one should i get? should i get the pizza? no wait, maybe i’ll get the hot dog… no WAIT-“
he chuckles, “doll, didn’t your paycheck just come in? you can probably get a bunch.”
you look at him with giant puppy dog eyes, “wanna buy it for me?”
he scratches the back of his neck, “uhh… i might’ve spent my entire paycheck at the casino… sorry, ma”
“oh my god, ‘ji, how are we supposed to eat?” you rub your forehead, “you promised no more casino.”
he pulls your hand closer to him, “i know… shiu wanted to go for his birthday and i got carried away. i’m really sorry, doll.”
you huff, “if you go again, i’m going to shoot you.” stomping off without him, you pick up the two jellycats you want and bring them to the counter. “just these two, please!” the cashier bundles them up for you and motions for you to swipe your card.
“your card declined, could you try swiping it again?” the cashier asks.
you internally panic. “sure!” you say, swiping it again. you’re starting to doubt the fact that you cashed your paycheck in. unfortunately for you, your card declines three more times and you end up walking out of the store embarassed and empty handed.
after listening to toji’s endless apologies on the way home, he promises to make it up to you when he receives his next paycheck. you nod, deciding to forgive him before heading out to dinner with your best friend, shoko. with the amount of money in your card, you’re pretty sure that all you can afford is an onigiri from 7/11.
as you pull out of the driveway, you think you hear the whirring of your ancient sewing machine, but you’re not quite sure. you’re not even sure if that thing works anyway.
when you return home, toji’s nowhere to be found. knowing that he didn’t have plans to work today, you wander through the rooms of your apartment, calling his name. when you get to the dining table, you spot a half-crumpled post-it and concerningly ugly plushies that you think are kinda ugly-cute.
as you get closer, you realize that they kind of resemble the pizza and hotdog jellycat plushies you almost bought at the mall. their drawn-on sharpie eyes stare back at you as you take in their half-sewn and half-glue-gunned appearance. they have hot glue strings and threads poking out of the sides, but you’re falling in love with them nonetheless. you laugh as you think about toji giving up on using the sewing machine halfway through. hugging them tightly, you read the post-it toji left on the table.
"hey doll, i’ll be back in a bit, just finishing up something real quick. love you" it reads, with a hastily scribbled heart.
fifteen minutes later, toji walks through the door, hair tousled and the real jellycat pizza and hot dog plushies in one arm and chinese takeout in the other.
he grins, “hey doll.”
you run up to him and throw your arms around his neck. “did you make these?” you ask, referring to his handmade plushies.
he grimaces a little, “yeah, they’re kinda ugly, huh?”
you laugh and shake your head, “no, ‘ji, i love them, thank you so much”
he hands you the jellycats in his hands, “i got the real ones for you too because i can’t fuckin’ look at my ugly ones”
when you look at his hands, you see that they’re covered in glue gun burns and bandages. you run your hands over the sewing machine and glue gun damages asking, “i thought you didn’t have money?”
“i pickpocketed people on the street.”
you look at him, “toji, please, for the love of god, tell me that you’re joking.”
he just laughs, “yeah sure doll, i’m just jokin’” he says, knowing you don’t believe him in the slightest.
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thank you so much to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers and support banners 🫶
and thank YOU so much for reading! i appreciate you!
226 notes · View notes
urrockstar-xe · 9 months
Text
winter formal - p.parker x fem!reader
aka a starstruck christmas
posted jan 2nd, 2024 8:55pm
this is specifically for @heywardsarchive who said i should make a part 2 so thank u pals :D
this is also fairly late, happy new year, thanks for being here.
summary; although reader misses hanging around her special spider friend, her crush on a certain peter parker boy has her distracted use of Y/n
starstruck does not need to be read first to enjoy this!
starstruck
masterlist
wordcount: 2.1
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It had been a few weeks since you had seen that familiar spider up close, nothing more than him swinging from afar, not that you should’ve been complaining. All of your time was being taken up by studying and then getting tutored by that Midtown High kid, Peter Parker. He was a lot cooler than you had expected but the fact all you did when hanging out was math really tainted the image of him in your head.
no matter how pretty he was.
Although with the holidays, more crime typically followed Santa around the globe so you weren’t exactly surprised how Spidey was extra busy this time of year.
Yet you still sighed in disappointment when you got home and once again met a note on your windowsill. 
”Hey, pretty lady, stopped by but you weren’t in :( can’t wait til you’re done with your tutoring sessions” 
The note was short but still, it brought a stupid little smile to your face, pulling out the notebook from your backpack, you wrote a note of your own.
”miss you spidey”
you set it on the outside of your window, setting a small rock from your desk on top so that it wouldn’t run away in the wind before quickly shutting your bedroom window and shivering from the cold.
“Maybe I should get a onesie”
~
“Y/n? You still with me?” Peter asked, grabbing your attention away from the window of the coffee shop you sat in. “Yeah, sorry, Peter” You give a quiet laugh, looking back at the window for a second, just checking to see if he’s out there before turning back to Peter, who was looking at you with a soft smirk. 
“What, why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, earning a laugh from the boy as he set his pen down.
“When did I lose you?” He asked, ignoring your question. “I don’t know,” You shrugged, honestly.
Peter shook his head, his smile unmoving as he closed the book in front of him. He leaned back into the leather of the booth, turning his gaze to your face. “Can’t get you focused at all lately” He joked, but not really. “I’m sorry” You gave him a half smile, hoping it would help your apology come off as genuine, just earning another laugh from the boy as he took his glasses off. 
God, he’s so hot. dude don’t think like that he’s right there
oh god what if he’s a mind read-
“Y/n? Again? C’mon, sweetheart” He chuckled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You laughed with him this time. “I’ve just got like no sleep lately,” You explained, ignoring the way your heart sped up at the pet name and earning a sympathetic smile and nod from Peter. “Is there a reason why?” He asked, leaning forward just slightly as if you were sharing secrets. 
“It feels like waiting for a phone call every night” You shrugged, not missing how Peter’s face fell at your words.
“Oh, boy trouble?” He asked, quieter this time. “something like that” he just hummed in response, not wanting to press any further. 
“Well, if you need a distraction, there’s this school thing-“ “Oh you mean at Nerdtown High?” You cut him off with a tease, laughing at how Peter scoffed and couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah, it’s like a winter formal dance thing, I’m in charge of takin’ pictures and stuff, could use some company” He shrugged, not wanting to just outwardly ask you. 
“And I have a special invite from the photographer himself?” You feigned a flattered face, dramatically putting your hand over your heart.
“Yes,” he laughed, “if you want to come, that is.” He shrugs, smiling at you. You mimicked his actions from earlier, leaning forward into the end of the table, still far enough to not feel his breath but close enough to make Peter slightly tilt his head as if unsure of what you were doing. 
Okay, so maybe how pretty he was did make a difference
“So, what are we wearing?” You asked, smiling.
~
The last-minute invite limited your options but luckily you managed to dig up something from your closet and accessorize enough to feel good about how you looked. While you were putting your earrings in, a knock hit your window, interrupting your giddy feelings about going to a school dance with Peter. 
Your head whipped around when there was a second knock, knowing now who it was as you got up and quickly opened the window, laughing at how Spidey dramatically fell into your room, completely on purpose. 
“hi” You smiled, putting on your jacket to shield yourself from the cold. “hey, pretty lady” Spider-man’s voice was distorted, muffled almost but also sounded like he was purposely making his voice quieter and deeper. “Why do you sound like that?” You laughed as you asked the question.
“Got a cold” he shrugged, before looking you up and down. “You look nice” Spiderman nodded, as if in approval but also as if he had to shut up before saying more.
“Thanks, don’t stare too much though, I’ve got a date!” You teased, smiling excitedly as you sat back down and focused on the red color lining your lips before blending it with your fingertip.
“A date huh?” He asked, not even trying to hide his shock at this point. You sigh, dramatically looking back at Spiderman, earning a chuckle at your theatrics. “Well, I think it’s a date, but if you ask questions, it sucks the fun out of it.” He nodded as if he understood your explanation.
He didn’t.
“You remember that tutor I mentioned?” 
Spidey hummed in response, making himself comfortable on your old bean bag chair, watching you finish getting ready.
“It’s with him” You spoke with a giddy light to your voice as you applied lip oil over the red on your lips. 
The silence from the usually obnoxious talkative spider caught your attention.
And while you didn’t know why, it was because he was internally panicking. 
“Thought he was like a total nerd” He laughed awkwardly, worried he’d blow his cover.
“Oh, he totally is,” You chose to ignore the scoff from Spidey as you continued speaking. “But, he’s also like charming and funny, and he’s so fuckin cute, he calls me sweetheart and like how he rambles apologies whenever he’s late and he always insists on walking me home even though I'm way out of his way for his own walk. Oh my gosh and the other day he hugged me which reminded me so much of that scene at the end of Tangled, like he just hugged all of me, does that make sense? Like he needed to be as close as possible, Ugh”
As you rambled on about your almost embarrassing crush on Peter, all he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest, he had spent weeks as Spiderman, coming to your rescue for mundane tasks, going as far as leaving notes when he wanted to see you but couldn’t. 
Here he was thinking Peter Parker was ruining his plans as your math tutor, meanwhile, He was the one you couldn’t stop rambling about.
Not Spiderman
But Peter.
He was freaking the fuck out.
“Oh my god, what time is it?” You asked, cutting off Peter’s Spiderman’s thoughts as you urgently looked for your phone. “Spidey, you know I love you, babe, but he’s gonna be here like any second.” You offered an apologetic smile as Spiderman waved it off, a way to say It’s all good, 
“Hey, have fun tonight, pretty lady!” He said, clearing his throat as if he was trying not to cough, and before you had a chance to respond, Spiderman was gone. 
~
“Did I mention how pretty you look?” Peter asked as he snapped another picture of you, complimenting you for the 5th, no 6th time tonight.
not that you’d been counting
You smiled, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think you have” You teased, earning that laugh that felt so painfully familiar in return.
“Hey, I have a question for you,” Peter started, still unsure about your previous conversation with Spiderman, even if you laid out all he’d need to know. 
The christmas lights and hanging snowflakes around the room suddenly became incredibly interesting to you as you nodded, avoiding all hints of eye contact possible, and silently thanking anyone who was listening in prayer as instead of looking at you, he started photographing other students and teachers dancing around the room to the Christmas music playing. 
Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he thought out his next few words, trying to not talk himself out of it. Distracting himself by taking photos of his classmates, he finally spoke.
“Do you prefer Pepsi or Coke?” 
coward
You laughed at the question, so it must’ve counted for something, right?
Or that’s at least what he had hoped as he smiled and listened to your unnecessary rant of an answer.
~
You shoved your hands into the pockets of Peter’s jacket that you were currently wearing at his insistence, of course, not being able to help yourself as you did a quick scan of the sky as Peter walked you home. 
He didn’t need instructions on how to get there anymore.
“Lookin' for something?” He asked, nudging you lightly.
Why did he always notice you looking for Spiderman?
“Someone, actually” You smiled at him, turning your gaze to your shoes, counting the cracks under your feet. 
“Oh,” play it cool, Peter. “Spiderman?” Was that too obvious?
You shrugged, looking at Peter with your head tilted.
“Didn’t know you were a fan” He continued, his turn now to count the cracks. 
“Yeah, something like that” you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head before looking at Peter, watching as he smiled softly at the concrete beneath his feet. 
“I had a really great time tonight, Peter” You sighed, nudging him slightly once your apartment complex came into view, even if you still had 3 more minutes of walking.
You really enjoyed your walks home with Peter. Of course, you counted how long the walks were.
“Me too” he nudged back, stopping for a moment and getting your attention by the feeling of his scarf getting tossed around your shoulders, you stopped walking now, allowing him to properly adjust the soft fabric around your neck making it two items of his you were now wearing.
“Can’t have you catching a cold for the holidays” Peter whispered, soft eyes moving to look into yours upon realizing how close you were. “Course not” you agreed in the same tone.
The moment lasted for however much time wasn’t enough, ending with the sound of police sirens, you both turned at the sound, watching as 2, 3, 4 cop cars rushed past you both. 
“Think I know where Spidey’s been” You mumble to yourself, though not missing the quiet laugh from Peter as he threw his arm around your shoulder, urging you to keep walking, seeming to be sort of rushing now. 
You didn’t question it, it was getting late and you knew he didn’t like leaving May alone too late into the night, it makes her worry would be all he told you anyway, so why pry?
You also had quickly decided to try and forget about the ruined moment, content in feeling as he wrapped his arms around your waist, forcing your arms around his neck in the hug you had loved so much and a quiet “I’ll see you in two weeks” mumbled into the shoulder of his your jacket.
Shit, winter break, you almost forgot about that
“Merry Christmas, Peter” You mumbled back, holding your breath as he pulled away and not letting it go til after you opened the door to the lobby. 
“Hey,” his voice made you turn around, tilting your head like a silent question mark.
“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart” 
~
The words replay in your head even still as you lie in your bed, waiting for your dreams to overtake you. How he looked at you and how he spoke the words so softly, despite having heard him call you Sweetheart a dozen times by now, you couldn’t get over it.
That seemed to mix with the anxiety you were feeling about whatever was going on with those policemen tonight, why was he not following? Was he already there? Is it about what’s had him so occupied the last few weeks?
The unanswered questions of worry and giddy feelings of adoration put you in a seemingly never-ending loop of anxiety that you were completely unable to come out no matter how hard-
Thump thump thump 
You sat up, almost giving yourself whiplash with how you turned to look at your window. 
Thump thump
They were weaker that time, uh oh.
827 notes · View notes
wonton4rang · 4 months
Note
having sexual tension with both leehan and taesan? so when everyone leaves except us three, shits happening 😩
YOU DID NOT WHATTHEACTUALFUCKKKK. not you making me write about my two favourite boys in bnd only for me to get even more crazy over them but thanks! (i'm literally giggling rn)
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pairing: gongfourz (taesan & leehan) x reader.
warnings: +18, smut, anal sex, double penetration, mentions of cheating, jaehyun as y/n's boyfie.
summary: where you have a strong sexual tension with taesan and leehan and they take the chance to clear it when your boyfriend's out of town <\3
note: hope you like this @hyuanlee !! it took me a while but here it is. 🫶 Also, if y'all see any typos, no you didn't.
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you were not dumb. not the slightest bit. so when your boyfriend jaehyun had to leave town for two days and his friends taesan and leehan dropped by your house, you knew it.
partly, you were not surprised by the fact that those two wanted to pay you a visit, even though they knew their friend was not home, just to make sure you were doing okay.
a call would've done it.
not to mention the way they looked at you, with so much hunger that it was soooo obvious that they would mess you up of they could. they would always make those "inoffensive" comments on how good you looked, how lucky was the man who managed to pull you.
jaehyun laughed at all of their jokes, loving the way his friends complimented his girl but totally missing their point when they would just laugh along and look at each other with that mischievous glow in their eyes.
jaehyun was so dumb.
but it was always like that, always the same absurb tension that would make you feel that weird feeling in your stomach, making your pussy throbb and you feeling so suffocated it was nonsense; like if you had a hand around your neck pressing with so much force you could faint.
they were both hot, they were both sexually appealing and you couldn't deny that you would love to have them between your legs. but they were your boyfriend's friends, you would never want to go that far with them, right? it was all jokes.
sure thing, whatever you say.
"y/n, aren't you hungry?" leehan asked you when he sat down in your side, the sofa shrinking a bit with his weight, you stopped looking at your phone to face him. "i didn't see you eating anything earlier"
"i'm good, i ate a lot at lunch so i'm not really hungry" you smiled back, feeling his gaze down your face before he moved it to your chest, picking at the skin he could see through the fabric of your pajamas "where's taesan anyways?" you tried to distract, looking around while leehan just kept getting closer to you.
"he's getting something" he just grinned at you, reaching your shirt with his fingers and playing a little bit with the fabric around your boobs, getting closer to your face before adding "this is such a soft material, where did you get it?"
"i got it when i went shopping with jaeyhun" you mentioned, backing up a bit. "i think it was on that cute store in the corner of the mall- what are you doing!?"
"i'm just touching it, can't i?" his voice was so low that it made you shiver, cursing a little bit in your mind when your nipples responded to it. "huh, it doesn't seems like you hate it though"
"shut it, it's kinda cold" he laughed at you when his fingers grazed your hard nipple and you jumped a little "yo, stop that"
"you don't like it?" but before you could answer his eyes dropped to your shorts, passing his tongue over his lips when he looked at your thighs "that short looks comfy, ain't it?"
"leehan, you have to quit it"
"can i touch it?" at this point you didn't knew what he meant, but being for real, you knew. and even though your morality was rotting your head and your hands started to shake a little bit, the thought of your boyfriend peeking out for a second before you heard a soft mumble on your ear, leehan making you rest your head on his arm and your thighs tensing when he finally ghosted his fingers close to your clothed pussy, softly pressing down on the flesh and looking at your face for confirmation when he said "do you mind?"
"no, i- you can"
and you didn't need to say it again when his fingers moved your shorts aside, finally feeling the wet patch in your panties when he touched them. you felt a little bit ashamed about it but the way his dick poked your thigh make you understand how hot it was for him too.
of course it was.
two of his fingers kept pressing down on your mount, still over your underwear, giving soft massages in that place and his face moving to kiss your left cheek with a warm kiss, his nose brushing against your face before he left a low moan out, his hips humping your thigh a little bit.
"you are so wet, y/n, why didn't you say anything? i could've helped you" he would whisper against your ear, leaving a soft bite afterwards and palming your pussy twice, making you flinch a bit before laughing. "so sensitive and yet so quiet"
"i don't know what you mean" you said back, you were not gonna admit he got you leaking by just getting close to you. never in a million years.
"you know exactly what i mean" and then his middle finger pressed against your folds, right in the middle, moving just enough to cause some friction between your underwear and your clit. "you love this, don't you? no need to hide it"
but color left your face when the door was opened, your hands holding leehan's arm and trying to pull him away from your clothed cunt but failing when he just laughed in your face, and dammit, his smile was so pretty that it even got you hotter, your pussy throbbing under his touch and your cheeks flushing when you say the third person entering the room.
"taesan"
you almost breathed out in relieve. well, for a second because then you remembered the situation you were on, you were just so grateful that it wasn't jaehyun that you forgot about it for a second.
"i thought we were playing with her together" he said in exchange, his eyes glued to the place where the younger male's fingers were.
"sorry, hyung, i couldn't help it. it's not like she opposed a lot either" he softly smiled "didn't even put up a fight"
you just watched the two boys in confusion, your hands loosening their grab on leehan's arm when taesan got closer, letting a plastic bag in the coffee table of the living room before taking place contrary to leehan on your side.
he looked at you a little bit differently than the younger male did, his eyes being somewhat sharper but his intentions not feeling so aggressive as leehan's. his right hand cupped your face and he licked his lips before leaning closer, barely touching the skin of your cheeks before pressing his forehead against the side of your face.
"can i kiss you, y/n?" he softly asked, leehan gulping on your side and restarting the movement of his finger against your pussy. taesan looked for your eyes when you went silent, trying to understand what your look supposed to mean. "you don't want me to-"
"i do, please"
taesan was never much of a talker, so he just laughed a lil bit at you saying 'please' when he was two seconds away from begging you. his lips crashing against yours right away and your chest lifting up and down a little bit fast due to the different feelings you were having, taesan's lips and tongue playing with yours and leehan's fingers making you grind down his hand, moaning into taesan's mouth when you felt both of them humping each one of your thighs.
"fuck, you're so hot" this time was leehan who talked, his finger finally breaking the barrier of your clothes and fully touching your soaked pussy. "goddamn it"
but you grew anxious when you felt that he left your side, almost breaking your kiss with taesan but the boy holding your face in place and stopping you from detaching his lips.
and you had your reasons to be nervous when your short got pulled down your legs with your panties and leehan was suddenly between both of your legs, his head so close to your pussy you actually felt his breath twitch before he finally left a long lick in your clit. your legs trembled and they both loved it, taesan's right hand going for leehan's hair and pressing the younger one against your cunt.
he left your lips to look at leehan eat you out, licking his own lips before saying "he looks so cute, doesn't he?" you had to hold in a whine when leehan mumbled in your pussy and sent some vibrations "such a pretty boy eating your cunt, don't you like him?"
"i do" was all you said, your eyes shut closed and your thighs on leehan's shoulders while he furiously lapped on your clit, flicking his tongue a little bit before placing wet open-mouthed there, gulping and taking that bulge of nerves between his teeth, gracing it and making your legs tremble. he was so good, so messy "fuck, stop, that's- oh my god"
"why do you want him to stop if you are feeling so good, y/n?" taesan was the one who spoke now, his fingers still tangled on leehan's hair but his eyes were looking at you, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel his breath when he talked. "do you like it like that?"
but at this point you couldn't even answer properly, just slowly moving your hips and riding leehan's face, being easy since taesan kept him pressed there with his hand. it was so hot, so dirty yet so wrong.
was it that bad if it felt so good? probably yes, but this time you wouldn't mind. just this time.
taesan took your lack of words as a signal that it was going good, and it was, so he could take care of himself now. he left your side met leehan between your legs, sharing a small grin with the younger before holding your legs up so they could both eat you out.
he was not gonna miss eating your cunt just because leehan was there, sharing some saliva with the other male and the sounds being so obscene it made you shake, trying to close your legs when it got too much.
both tongues playing with your pussy, taesan's middle finger knuckle deep inside your cunt and flicking up like a mad beast, leehan's soft moans sending vibrations to your wet folds and it was just too much.
"guys, stop, please i'm- please" but your hands went to hold their heads in place, your fingers tangling in their hair and you just feeling how the laughed "oh my god"
and just like that you came, right into their tongues, with a whine moan making you feel so ashamed before you felt the warmth of their faces abandon your cunt, taesan's finger slipping out and making you feel empty.
"you good?" leehan would ask, licking his lips with a smirk that just made your legs weak, the fact that taesan licked the finger that was previously inside of you didn't help either. "you have such a sweet pussy, baby. could eat you out three times a day"
"you are seriously mental" taesan laughed and fixed leehan's hair before facing you one more time. "but he's right tho"
"you both are insane" was all you could mumbled, your legs still shaking when you tried to cover your pussy by pulling your shorts up.
"what do you think you're doing?" your eyes pawned to leehan's and your ears could pick up the tingling metal sound of their belts being unbuckled, putting your shorts on anyways. "have you taken two at the same time before?"
"guys, i- i don't think we should do this. go this far, you know" both boys just kinda laughed, still undoing their pants and making you gulp when you noticed how hard they were for what you could peek before they lowered their trousers when you spoke again "i'm being serious"
"are you?" this time taesan spoke and before you could add he continued "that's not what your body and eyes are saying"
"i shouldn't"
"but you want to, and to be honest, we are already halfway there, y/n"
"you guys are not going to say anything, right? you know how he is and this would make him feel awful and i-"
"we won't say a thing" leehan reassured you and you quickly nodded. seeing how they started to lower their jeans made you get up and hold both of their hands.
"not here"
so they followed you upstairs, staring at your ass shamelessly and standing at the door when you guided them to a room, both of them looked at you with lifted eyebrows and you had to explain that it wasn't the one you shared with jaehyun, this one was a separate one you guys had with your old stuff that you brought when you left your parents house.
"good thing you brought your bed" joked leehan, finally walking into the room and taesan closing the door behind them.
he grabbed your face and finally stamped his lips on yours, his kisses were messier than taesan's but lighter and not that warm nor deep, his tongue brushed against yours and you jumped a little when taesan held your hips from behind, kissing your neck and softly moving his hands to the front of your shirt, caressing your already hard nipples through the fabric.
leehan's hands were divided, one cupping your face and the other one holding the hem of your shorts, threatening with pulling it down every once in a while. they were both driving you crazy, the feelings being too good and them being so hot.
you felt taesan's lips leaving your neck with an audible pop and immediately felt leehan pulling away too, both of them dragging you to the bed before taesan took his jeans off and layed down, pulling you to this lap and slowly moaning when he made you grind down on his hard dick, lifting you up enough remove his underwear and for you to remove your shorts.
"fuck" you heard him say when his naked dick finally brushed your cunt, seeing him bite his lip for a bit "leehan, i left the condoms and the stuff on the coffee table below, can you get them?"
"on my way"
"i'm sorry about that, pretty, but we need them" he explained before holding your nape and bringing you down so he could kiss you in the meantime "we're gonna fuck you so good"
so when leehan finally got back, everything started to move fast, the way taesan took the condom and ripped the package with his teeth, putting it on and immediately dropping you on top of his throbbing length, the way he moaned so sweetly yet low when you took it all the way in, biting your own lip and putting your hands on his chest.
you started to move on him, first rocking your hips from the front to the back a little bit and then starting to lift and drop, up and down, a good rhythm being found almost immediately when his hands held your hips and his own hips started to thrust up.
but what startled you was the cold feeling in your ass when leehan's lips attached to your ear, softly whispering "let me get you ready, hm?"
and suddenly he started to circle your hole, playing with the rim of nerves and slowly peeking his finger inside, getting enough lub so that it won't hurt you. taesan also helped, caressing your legs and pulling you in for a kiss while leehan worked you up.
one finger was in and you tensed, a second one got in after a few seconds and you were truly not as nervous as you were five minutes ago. in fact, it felt kinda good now.
so leehan finally picked up a pace and fucked two fingers in and out of your ass, the way taesan's cock was still hard and inside of your pussy creating a delicious friction that made you laugh and roll your eyes.
that was about enough. so leehan finally took his pants off and took place behind you, aligning his dick with your ass after putting the condom on and pushing in without even saying anything, going all the way and making even taesan moan because of the friction.
and then the pace started again, but this time with both of them, taesan fucking your pussy and leehan your ass, both of them doing it fast and deep, leehan's hand around your neck and his arm around your chest to keep you up, taesan playing with your hard nipples.
it was all too good, too perfect, too exquisite. it was driving you crazy.
"oh god, yes, please" you kept repeating, one of your own hands going to your clit to play with it and furiously rub it. you were so overwhelmed that you knew you were going to come at any moment. "you feel so good. you both fuck me so well"
and they just kept pushing, desperately looking for release and finding it when taesan came first, your warm and wet walls bringing him to the edge. also, watching you from below while leehan also fucked you, held your neck with his hand and both of you moaning?? taesan was a visual and audio man, that was too much.
but leehan, on the other side, is a man of feelings. so when he felt your pussy throbbing around taesan's dick after he came, causing you to cum too and tense your ass walls, he couldn't hold it either, giving you a deep and sharp thrust before finishing.
"goddamn" was all the younger male said, letting his grab on you go and you falling on taesan's chest, immediately being held on a hug by him and feeling your cheeks being kissed. "that was crazy good"
"it was" you confirmed and taesan just mumbled in agreement, hiding his face in the crook of your neck before you felt leehan pulling out. "are you guys staying for dinner?"
"i thought you said you weren't hungry" leehan started with some fun on his voice. "although the way your pussy and ass ate our cocks says otherwise"
but you just didn't have the strength to fight him back this time, just lazily laughing against taesan's skin and closing your eyes to rest, leehan went to lay down with you both and took a sheet to cover your naked bodies.
taesan held you close but made you lay on the bed, between him and leehan, you still having his cock inside your pussy tho. just laying there, being hugged by the two boys and comfortably falling asleep on their arms.
jaehyun was not coming home until the day after tomorrow so you will have time to do this again and then talk it out with the pillow to not feel so bad about it.
but c'mon, what were you supposed to do? he was out of town and his two friends were soooooo hot.
309 notes · View notes
miupow · 9 months
Text
‧₊˚✩彡 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 /ˎˊ˗ 𝚌.𝚢𝚓 *ੈ✩‧
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┆ rockstar!choi yeonjun x fem!reader ╰--⪼ one of the hardest things about dating a rockstar is the distance; when he’s on tour he’s thousands of miles away, busy and unable to call, and you spend months alone in a cold counting down the days until he gets home. but your boyfriend put some extra time aside to make a very special video call to his favorite girl.
. . . RATING ! NSFW, MDNFI! . . . WORDS ! 1.7k . . . WARNINGS ! soft dom!yeonjun, daddy kink, lots and lots of pet names, praise kink, sex toys, facetime sex, mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, a little angst in the beginning
for @napofamoon's growing pain rockstar!txt event! this is also a little christmas gift for her and all of my followers~~ thank you to @taegimood and @wolfytae-exe for proofreading!
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You purposefully let the call ring out for a bit before answering– you didn’t want him knowing you had been pacing for an hour, waiting impatiently by the phone. 
“Hey beautiful,” Yeonjun croons immediately upon you picking up, pretty bare face filling up the screen of your phone– he must’ve just gotten out of the shower, his hair wet and pushed back, black tank top and flannel overshirt pulled on haphazardly like he had been in a rush… sometimes you hated how he looked so beautiful so effortlessly. It reminded you just how horrifically out of your league he was. “What are you up to? How was your day?”
“Mm.. not much. It’s been boring without you.” You sigh listlessly, giving Yeonjun a tight, unconvincing smile. “I didn’t have work today so Yunjin took me shopping– got some things for the apartment, some new clothes. Waited for you to call. I’m honestly more interested in how you’re doing, babe.”
Yeonjun gives you an apologetic little grin, eyes unreadable– it does nothing but makes you feel worse. At least he was aware he promised to call three hours earlier. “I’m sorry it’s so late, we had a show.”
“I know.” You reply, a little curt. Yeonjun doesn’t have complete control over his own schedule, pushed and pulled around everywhere he goes by both his managers and his other band members, bending over backwards for breaks snuck in between press appearances and shows every time he and his band were on tour… you’ve beat yourself senseless trying not to let it get to you.
“I’m sorry, baby, I really am.” Yeonjun repeated, voice low as he leaned in closer to the camera. “There was a problem with the sound system so our open started an hour late, and then there was a fight in the pit so we had to stop for security to kick them out, and then Beomgyu wanted to get drinks after the show and–” 
“It’s alright, Jjun. I understand.” You cut in, voice soft. Yeonjun gives you a look like he doesn’t quite believe you. “It sounds like you had a busy night… you always have a busy night.”
“Yeah, I’m sure things are real quiet when I’m not around.” Yeonjun gives you one of his signature grins, lopsided and handsome, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Missing me yet?”
He wants you to respond with some snide joke, lighten the mood– Yeonjun’s begging for it, brown eyes nervously flitting across your face as his smile cracks and splinters, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. “So fucking much, Jjun.” you croak, “I miss you so fucking much.”
His face drops immediately, his unconvincing grin giving way to one much more solemn and sad– it makes your stomach churn, unable to stomach the helplesslessness in his eyes. “I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.” 
“But when?” You press, even though you knew you shouldn’t. Conversations over ETAs only ever lead to fights– Yeonjun loved to make promises he knew he couldn’t keep. 
“Soon.” He repeats, his stare hard as he shifts on his hotel bed. “I’ll make it work. I’ll come and see you.” 
You knew he wouldn’t, but he was always such a sweet liar.
The look on your face must have given you away, because Yeonjun gives you a desperate, pleading pout, kissable lips pulled down into a grimace. It tears your heart to pieces. “Just bare with me baby, okay? The tour’s almost over, I’ll be home soon–”
“And then you’ll just go on tour again.” You spit, nastier than you meant for it to come out. The wide-eyed, guilty look Yeonjun gives you makes your heart drop to your stomach; you’re fairly sure you would have felt better if he had just gotten angry with you instead.
The sigh he lets out weighs a ton, settles on both of your shoulders. “Can we just talk about this later? We can talk about this when I get home, just– I love you. You know that, right?”
“I love you too,” You reply in a whisper.
“I love you more than anything in the world, baby, more than this.. stupid fucking job, okay?” You had never heard Yeonjun refer to his career as a “job” before… you weren’t sure what to make of it. “Everything I’m doing right now is for our future together; if I pull this off right we won’t have to work another day in our lives, do you understand? It’s fucking rough right now but we’ll get through it, baby, I know we will. It’s all for you, beautiful.”
“I love you,” you repeat, voice wobbly with unshed tears. You’ve heard this speech a thousand times but it never failed to break you down, make your heart full.
“God, gorgeous, I love you too. My everything. My future. Enough sadness, yeah?”
Yeonjun’s gentle, soft words snaps you out of your reverie, reminds you of your plans before getting lost in your own emotions– you hadn’t wanted this call to go this way at all… in fact, you had wanted it to go a different way entirely. You nod and quickly rub your eyes.
“Jjunie…” you start, still semi-sad voice melodic and now charged with a sweet, playful lilt. “I got you something, when I went shopping earlier…” 
Yeonjun catches your drift fast, his eyebrow raising with a mischievous grin; he was always so in sync with you, always understood your wants and needs like he could read your mind. “Oh? What’d you get me, sugar?”
You giggle, blink away the tears as you smooth your hands over your baggy sweater, play with the hem– you scoot back a bit, letting more of your body come into frame; Yeonjun hisses in a loud breath when he sees that sweater was the only thing you were wearing.. “I dressed myself all pretty for you, daddy– do you wanna see?”
“Fuck,” Yeonjun breathes, leaning even closer to the camera. His pretty brown eyes are blown wide, lids low as he bites at his plush lower lip. “Take it off, let daddy see.”
You’re slow in sliding off your sweater, teasing as you tug it up over your thighs, over your hips– Yeonjun drinks in every inch, hungry eyes locked on your thighs, and he lets out a low, nasty groan from deep in his chest when you reveal to him your pretty lace thong. 
“God, baby, you’re so fucking pretty,” he growls, “Turn around for me.” 
You follow his directions obediently, turn your back to show him your lace-covered ass as you finish peeling off your sweater— the sound Yeonjun makes is unholy, deep and nasty and matching the grin on his face. “Fuck, such a perfect ass. So beautiful.” 
“I miss you, daddy.” you whine, turning back to the camera to show Yeonjun your pout. His lips are gnawed raw, shiny with spit and pretty pink as he takes in greedy eyefuls of your bra-clad tits, coos at you so sweet and condescending. 
“Mm, I miss you too, sugar. Go on; show daddy how much you miss him. Take that bra off ‘n show him those pretty tits, hmm?” 
“Yes, daddy~” you purr, quick to reach behind you for the clasp. You’re teasing in sliding off your bra, let the straps hang off your shoulders for a moment before you take it off entirely. Your perky nipples pucker in the cold air, begging for attention— you know better than to touch without Yeonjun’s permission, however. 
He can read you like a book, knows exactly what you need as you squirm on camera. “Go ahead and touch, my good girl.” 
One hand flies to your breast, tweaking your nipple between your forefinger and thumb; the other moves to rub your clothed clit in tight circles. you let out a breathy moan at the feeling, fight every fiber of yourself to keep your eyes open— you don’t want to miss a single second of watching Yeonjun. He’s breathing heavy, hastily angled the camera down to show you the big bulge in his sweatpants. He strokes himself over the fabric with the lightest of touches, teasing the both of you as he pants into the microphone. “What I would do if I was there...”
“What would you do, daddy?” you ask lightly, feigning innocence, pinching your nipple with a whimper. You’re so wet you’re soaking through your little panties— you’re sure Yeonjun had noticed. 
“God, I’d fuck you so hard. Dressed up so pretty for me, you deserve a reward, fuck— I’d leave those panties on while I bend you over and fuck you good, fill you up with my cum… you’d let me, right angel? Let me breed that little pussy?”
You moan high in your throat, hips stuttering as you continue to circle your clit, play with your bud. “Yes, yes! M-more, daddy, I need more!”
Yeonjun squeezes himself through his sweats, snickers at your fucked-out face. “Oh, baby… how about you go and grab that little vibe you love so much, give daddy a little show?”
You don’t need to be told twice; nodding desperately, you reach for your bedside drawer and pull out your favorite vibrator, thin and pink and powerful enough to make you scream. You settle back into frame, position yourself with your thighs wide apart  so that Yeonjun has a full view of your drooling cunt, the soaked fabric of your thong clinging to your lips obscenely. You feel vulnerable and exposed, and you embrace it as Yeonjun drinks in your form.
Yeonjun’s too impatient to tease you, giving you an affirming nod so you can start running the vibe across your throbbing slit. “Don’t take those panties off,” Yeonjun orders, slowly untying his sweatpants. “Want you to play with yourself with them on, okay?”
You don’t like the sound of that. “But I want my fingers,” you whine, pathetic, “want something inside—“
“Nuh uh,” Yeonjun chastises, pulling his hard pink cock out and giving it a stroke— you hadn’t realized how much you missed it until you saw it again, cockhead flared and dripping precum. “Listen to daddy, baby. Nothing goes in that cunt except my cock, you hear me? Be patient— I’ll fill you up when I come home.”  
And it isn’t until after he’s made you cum in your panties, vibrator on your clit and fingers on your nipples, that he explains why; he has a surprise for you too. 
The rest of the tour was canceled. He’s coming home.
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calypsocolada · 2 months
Text
WORTH THE WAIT | s. gojo
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synopsis: a handsome regular gives you his number… request: "hi I was wondering if you could make a Gojo fic where you and him meet at a coffee shop were you work and when you are on your shift he comes to order something he started to flirt with you and he gives you his number on a napkin but you throw it away but regretted it" an: hi hi hi! i hope you all enjoy this lil fic! cw: none, fluff, not proofread wc: 1.1k
click here for my masterlist
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“Just your usual?” You asked, hand paused as you waited for an answer. When none came you looked up. Your regular at the coffee shop you worked at just stared at you with this sort of wide and surprised look. You looked back at him, furrowing your brow. “Are you okay?” You asked, the man blinked and cleared his throat. 
“Uh- yeah… sorry just my usual.” He answered, face red. You gave him a soft and small smile as you clicked a few buttons on your register. 
“That’ll be three dollars.” You said as the man reached and grabbed for his wallet, fumbling slightly as he did. You wondered what had gotten into him today, usually he was so calm and collected. He’d joke with you some days, flirt with you on others. But not today. He pulled out his wallet, handing over a hundred dollar bill. 
“Keep the change.” Your hand froze the exact moment it came in contact with the bill. Your eyes snapped up to his. He gave you an almost shy smile as he let go of the bill. Your hand didn’t move.
“Wow… uh-- are you sure?” You asked as he immediately nodded his head.
“You deserve it.” He says as your hand moves slowly to ring up the latte and charge it. 97 dollar tip?
“I just make coffee.” You answer, trying to hand him his change. He doesn’t make a move to take it back. 
“Seriously, keep it.” He says gently and steps to the side to let the next customer order. You place the money in the communal tip jar and take care of the next customer.
“Here’s your latte.” You place it on his table, the white haired man looks up at you, face still red as he thanks you. “That tip was very generous.” You say as the man reaches for his latte, leaning back in his seat.
“I come here a lot and you always take good care of me.”
“You make it sound like I go above and beyond.” You laugh as the man gingerly sips his coffee. 
“Just showing a little appreciation. Next time I’ll give more.”
“More?”
“Mhm. That was nothing.” He says nonchalantly. Earlier he seemed shy but now he was slowly getting back to the confident regular you saw on almost a daily basis. He stuck out like a sore thumb. The only man you’d ever seen with striking white hair. He usually dressed in all black, eyes hidden behind black circular sunglasses. He even wore them inside. You never questioned it because he usually charmed the thoughts out of your head. You cleared your throat.
“Do you work around here?” You asked as the man nodded his head.
“I’m a teacher.”
“A teacher?” You echo, sort of shocked. Dressed like that? “What do you teach?” 
“The arts.” He says and looks up at you. At this angle you can see his eyes. The bluest eyes you’d ever seen. Almost like ice. 
“Hmm.” You hum. You didn’t exactly know what you took him for but an art teacher was surprising. 
“Y/n, your breaks starting,” Your boss calls as you nod your head to him.
“Well, enjoy your latte.” You say with a soft smile.
“Wait,” The man says, pulling out another hundred, he clicks his pen writing something on the back of it before handing it over. “This one’s just for you.”
“Seriously… that’s too much, I can’t accept that.” You say but he slips it into your apron.
“Enjoy your break.” He smirks.
“He gave you his number?” Your coworker asks as you turn the bill over in your hands. “Actually,” She starts to laugh. “He does flirt with you all the time so that’s not surprising.”
“He does not. He’s just nice.” You roll your eyes.
“Are you crazy? Seriously, you must be the most naive person in this world. The tall, handsome mysterious man gave you almost two hundred bucks and his phone number, constantly flirts with you and you still think he’s not into you.”
“I’m just some barista… seriously you overthink things.” You say, stuffing the bill into the communal tip jar. Your coworker looks at you with her lips parted. 
“And you underthink things… and what the hell he said that was for you?”
“It’s policy to share tips.”
“God,” She groans loudly. “I wish he’d flirt with me.”
The next couple days passed and you had about driven yourself into insanity. Your handsome regular hadn’t shown back up. The money had been evened out and you lost his number. You felt terrible. You could’ve at least taken his number and sent him a thank you for all the money. Was he really asking you out? Sure he seemed flirty with you but you had a tendency to read things wrong and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. But as the days slowly passed you realized how idiotic you were being. After all, the man literally gave you his number. Your last boyfriend was a complete loser and here comes a gorgeous man, tall and lean and seemingly had a stable job and could make you laugh and you blew it. You softly groaned into the book you were trying to read. The cafe was dead and in moments like this you tried to pass the slow moving time with books. But your mind kept wandering to him over and over. You closed the book just as the front door dinged. Your eyes flew up and sure enough met the black sunglasses on your regular. You audibly gasped, sitting up straighter. 
“M-morning!” You called out before your cheeks went bright red, embarrassed at how excited you’d just been.
“Morning,” He smiles.
“Your regular?” You asked as he nodded his head, pulling out his wallet. You had so many things you wanted to say to him but instead you took out a page in his book. “That’ll be three dollars.” Again he hands you a hundred and you blush.
“Keep the change.” He says and instead of placing it in the communal tip jar you slide it into your apron.
“I never got your name by the way.” You say over your shoulder as you fix his latte.
“Satoru.” He says softly. You hand him his latte and watch as his eyes catch something written on the side. He blushes.
“Sorry I wasn’t able to call.” You say as he locks eyes with you. You watch his thumb gently slide against the side of the cup where you had written your number.
“That’s alright, it was worth the wait.”
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