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#like what the hell did they think would happen
navybrat817 · 3 days
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Hold You Tight: Part 9
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 8 | Series Masterlist | Part 10
Chapter Summary: Bucky takes you home, but will he keep his hands to himself?
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.7k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You thought you heard the men wish you well once more when Bucky led you out of the office. You weren’t completely sure since you tried to block everything out, but attempting to disassociate wouldn’t exactly do you any good. The night wasn’t over yet and you had to stay sharp. You didn’t know what Bucky had planned for when he got you home. Were you prepared at all?
Not in the least.
You half expected to walk back through the front of the club to leave, but Ray directed you to a door near the back once he gave Bucky a nod. The car was waiting in the alley and you took a moment to glance up at the sky. You could only make out one star and you wished in that moment you could grow wings and fly away. But when did wishing upon a star do you any good?
“Let’s get you back to your place,” Bucky said, helping you into the car.
You had to give him credit for trying to keep up his end of the bargain by getting you home on time. Your body refused to relax though once he sat beside you and took your hand. Was he trying to get you accustomed to his touch? Make you crave him? It bothered you that in spite of your determination he drew you in to a certain degree. But you wouldn’t let him take you to bed tonight. You weren’t ready to cross that inevitable line.
Maybe, just maybe, if your performance in bed disappointed him, he’d get bored and walk away. The thought almost made you laugh. That wasn’t happening. If anything, he’d probably love teaching you how to be his perfect lover.
“I think tonight went well,” Bucky smiled.
“Which part exactly?” You mumbled, pulling your hand away. The part where he forced you to go, how his men all but admitted they knew Bucky stalked you, or how they beat the hell out of a man?
“Just the night in general. I knew everyone would love you, but I really think Thor wants to be your big brother now,” Bucky replied. You wanted it so badly to be endearing, but Thor was dangerous. He mentioned a father-in-law. How exactly did he find his wife? And bringing up the flower donations to the hospital. Bucky seemed upset. Why? “Which he’ll have to fight Steve for.”
“Fighting. You guys seem to excel in that arena,” you said, remembering how they all took turns beating up John. “But I guess Steve does have a bit of that ‘big brother’ vibe, helping you take total control of my life and whatnot.”
“Not total control. I’m still letting you work, but maybe I can buy the shop.” He chuckled at your thunderous expression. The light threat had you seeing red. “I probably shouldn't joke about that, should I?”
“Letting me work? Like it’s your decision? And don’t you dare buy the shop.” You pushed at him to keep from slapping him when he chuckled again. Not with enough force to get him far away from you, but you needed some sort of space in the vehicle. He also needed a good hit over the head. “You’re a bully, do you know that? So are your friends.”
His laughter died off quickly when he reached out and gently took your hand again, prying your fingers away from your palm. You didn’t notice it stung from your nails until he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You think we’re bullies?” He asked against your skin.
“Yes. Besides nearly beating that jerk to death, you do realize that you use force and threats to dominate and intimidate. That’s a form of bullying, Bucky,” you said. Was he deliberately being obtuse or was he lost in his delusion that this was all normal?
“I wouldn’t say we’re bullies. I call it protecting and keeping what’s mine,” he said. There was no shame on his end.
“Right. Because I’m a possession and not a person,” you said, your face scrunching up as you tried not to cry. You needed rest. If part of Bucky’s plan was to wear you down by overwhelming you, mission accomplished. “I’m so tired. I just want to go to bed.”
“You’re a person, not a possession, Kotyonok. And not just a person, a good person who gives so much of herself to others. And probably one of the only people who rightfully calls me out on my shit.” His response drew you up short. “Outside of my friends, no one else does that.”
“Maybe because they’re afraid of you and what you can do,” you said after a moment. Fear could make anyone say what they thought people wanted to hear. “Either that or they want your approval,” you added, which you could also understand to a point. People wanted a sense of belonging, especially with those who had influence and power.
“Maybe they are afraid,” he agreed, brushing his lips against your palm again with a sigh. “What is it about me that scares you most?”
“I’m not really sure exactly,” you admitted. There was so much about the situation that terrified you. What he was capable of. How he inserted himself into various aspects of your life and so quickly. How far he was willing to go to keep you. “But I think it’s your conviction. That you’re so sure that I’m your other half and no one can convince you otherwise, not even me.”
You could scream until your lungs gave out that you didn’t belong with him and you knew in your heart he’d argue until his last breath that you did. He was steadfast in that belief that you were soulmates. That conviction was so strong that what you really feared was that he would somehow convince you that he was right: that you belonged together.
Those steel blue eyes of his met yours and mesmerized you for a heartbeat before you looked away. “Love is scary. It’s natural to be afraid of it.” His lips brushed your ear, making you shiver. “But giving someone the most fragile parts of yourself is one of the bravest things a person can do.”
There was truth in his words, but it felt like he moved another chess piece into place. He was trying to disarm you and you couldn’t let him. “Who painted that black dahlia in your office?” You asked suddenly, feeling him move back enough that you could turn your head toward him. “And why display that flower?” You didn’t believe for a second that he chose it for aesthetic purposes.
“Beautiful, isn't it? Steve painted it,” he replied with an odd mixture of affection and bitterness. “It’s for my parents.”
“Steve is a gifted artist.” You hoped your voice stayed even enough that Bucky wouldn’t get jealous of you complimenting another man’s talent. “I don't know if the symbolism of flowers mean anything to you, but the black dahlia-”
“Betrayal. Sadness. Darkness,” he ticked off, his voice cold enough that another shiver moved through your body. “It was the last flower my dad ever got my mom and it serves as a reminder.”
You swallowed as warning bells sounded in your mind to tread carefully. “And what's that?”
He moved close, your eyes shutting as his hand wrapped around the nape of your neck. “That I'll never do to you what he did to her.”
There was suppressed rage within him. Sorrow. It rolled off him in waves strong enough that they could drown you. He said earlier that his dad got what he deserved. What had he done to his mom?
“You’re in pain,” you whispered. He was hurting and you logically shouldn’t care. So why did you want to know the cause of that hurt? “You have to tell me why.”
It wasn’t for you to use to your advantage. You weren’t sure if you could manipulate someone else. If you knew what happened though, it would at least give you more answers to who Bucky was and why he was the way he was. It could help you gain some sort of understanding.
“I’m not in pain when I’m with you,” he whispered, bringing your hand on his chest. Was he relying on you to chase away whatever haunted him? “Later. I’ve overwhelmed you enough for one evening.”
You let out a breath. You swore he was doing this on purpose, giving you just enough information that you’d wait around until he gave you more. “I can’t argue with you there,” you said, his heart racing under your touch. “Just answer one thing for me, please.”
“What’s that?”
“Marc from the bookstore,” you began, the man’s kind face shimmering in your mind. “Did anything happen to him?”
“I’d question another man being on your mind, but I know you’re just concerned about his well-being.” An easy smile crossed Bucky’s face as you bit your tongue. You could think about anyone you wanted to. “I can’t speak for him right this second, but he was perfectly fine when you and I left. He was just having a chat with one of my associates.”
You exhaled, thankful Marc wasn't hurt. “What kind of chat?” You asked. He was a nice guy, though he did seem to know a bit about Bucky. What exactly was he involved in?
“He just got a warning to be careful about what he does or doesn’t say to his customers.” You tensed before he kissed your forehead. Did he know about the conversation you two had? “And I don’t think the two of you should be alone with each other in the bookstore going forward.”
Just when Bucky had you feeling some sort of sympathy for him moments ago he shocked you right out of it. “Another decision that isn’t yours to make,” you stated, the car coming to a stop. “And you really don’t have to walk me up. I think we’ve had enough of each other’s company tonight.”
“I said I’m tucking you into bed and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” The smile he gave you was nothing short of cocky when he added, “And you owe me a photo. I’m going to get it.”
He was a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t let that go. “Why don’t you just take a photo of me giving you the finger?” You suggested as he helped you out of the car.
“Only if you do it with a smile. I’ll even set it as the background on my phone,” he winked. Your reluctance and defiance of him didn’t phase him in the slightest. “And if you give me the finger, I’ll take it as an invitation that you want to fuck me.”
“Let’s go, please.”
You said nothing else as you went into the building, your anxiety mounting by the second. The slow rise of the elevator didn’t help, Bucky’s hip pressed against yours like he couldn’t stand to have space between you. You figure he’d shove you against the wall and claim your mouth, but he didn’t make a move. It impressed you that he behaved until you got to your floor. It didn’t stop your hand from shaking when you got your keys out.
“Still don’t want to say good night now?”
“I don’t want to say good night at all,” he answered, following you into the apartment and turning on the light. The welcoming feeling you expected when you got home wasn't there. There was a chill in the usual warmth.
“Well, you’ll have to sooner or later,” you said, swallowing when you faced Bucky. He shut the door and watched intently as you set your keys and bag down. You were quiet as you stared back, tension thick as you tried to predict what he was going to do. Once again, he managed to hold all the power in your home.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He asked, heat and hunger in his stare as he slowly advanced.
Your throat went dry as you stepped back. “You have.”
“So beautiful and so good.” You made another move to retreat when he stepped forward, his manner confident and compelling as he reached out and prevented you from moving back further. “It’s driving me crazy not having you yet.”
“Please, you don’t…” you trailed off when he sank to his knees, unexpected heat flowing from your core. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder to brace yourself, his eyes soft as he helped remove one of your shoes. You found it difficult to breathe as he removed the other, his hand brushing your ankle with infinite tenderness. Like it was an honor to touch and be on his knees for you.
“I know the first time I taste you I’ll never want to stop. I’ll have to wake up every day between your thighs. Fall asleep that way, too.” His hand slid up your calf and his eyes darkened when your other hand found its way to his thick locks. Wetness gathered between your legs when his touch moved to your thigh. “Your pussy is hungry for me, isn’t it? My fingers, my tongue, my cock. I’ll feed her well.”
His voice was like velvet. Seductive. Aching. “Bucky…” Your breath rushed out swiftly when he kissed your mound through your clothes, tormenting you with arousal you didn’t ask for. It frightened you.
“I can smell you,” he murmured, nosing along where his lips had been before he sat back. “Smell so fucking good.”
Moving your shoes out of the way, he rose to his full height again as you willed your legs not to shake. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you, let alone speak to you, the way he did. Stark desire. Possessiveness. His form of love. Your heart pounded and you refused to answer him or glance down. If you looked at the front of his pants…
He took your hand and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom. Your heart pounded with mounting speed, your heels digging into the floor. “You still haven't kissed me,” you blurted out, hoping it would prevent him from taking you to bed. Or would he take that as an invitation to kiss your lips?
“No, I haven't.” You tried to keep some distance between you as he went to your bed, his hand moving along the blanket. You couldn't breathe. “It scares you how much your body wants mine, doesn’t it?”
“Is that what you think?” You asked, forcing air back into your lungs. It did scare you. It also scared you that you didn’t push him away or scream when he dropped to his knees to remove your shoes. Where was your fighting instinct?
“It is what I think.” The ease in which he moved away from the bed to your dresser to find your pajamas frightened you, too. Like he belonged in your room. You thought back to the night he broke in and left your gift on your bed. How much time did he take to look around? “Like love, giving your body to someone can be scary. You have to trust that you won't get hurt when you’re physically vulnerable.”
“You swore you wouldn't hurt me,” you reminded him.
“And I won't. But you know what else I think?” His magnetic gaze stayed on you as he brought a nightgown over. “That no guy has ever really taken care of you and you’re apprehensive to let me try.”
If you were apprehensive, it was because he was a walking red flag. “What makes you…” Your words stopped when he grasped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Your arms instinctively went up before you realized what you were doing. Removing your shirt, you didn’t get a chance to cover your breasts before he slipped the nightgown on you.
“Your past boyfriends never did anything for you. Emotionally, physically,” he stated, sliding his hands under the nightgown to your hips. Grasping the hem of your pants, he pushed them down as far as he could. “I’ll bet they didn’t even buy you flowers and used the excuse that they didn’t because you’re a florist.”
The words were tiny cuts on old wounds, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. “And you will?”
“I will. I’ll give you the life and love you deserve, making you forget any other man out there existed before me.” His eyes raked over you as you stepped out of your pants, your panties still soaked. “But I’m not gonna fuck you.”
Exhaling slowly, relief flooded you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t trying to take what he wanted. “You won’t?”
“Not tonight.” He shook his head even as his fingers moved along your waist. “Like I said, I’ve overwhelmed you enough. Sleeping with you might really put you over the edge.”
“Thanks.” He desired you, but continued to hold it at bay for your sake. How long would that last? “I appreciate that.”
“And we both know the moment I take you to bed, you’ll be begging for more.” His voice dropped as he toyed with the soft fabric. “And as much as I want to stay in bed with you all night and morning and give us what we both crave, I still need to get things in place at the penthouse and you need rest. You understand.”
You tried not to smile and failed. He acted as if he was doing you a favor. Cocky bastard. “I guess we’ll just have to suffer until then.” Sarcasm continued to be a good way to deflect.
He exhaled at your light teasing, his body still a bit tense. Being close to you and not having you was probably driving him mad. “Maybe we'll have to have another private call and finish what we started. Give us both some relief.” He turned you toward the door and gave you a light swat on your ass. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth before I change my mind.”
You made it to the bathroom in record time, not having to be told twice. You didn’t want to risk staying there in case he lost his resolve. Looking in the mirror as you went through the rest of your nighttime routine, you expected to look more exhausted from the whirlwind of the day. You somehow looked wide awake. Was the experience giving you thicker skin? Or did his desire for you somehow give you a bit of a twisted spark? You’d still be billing him for your future therapy bills either way.
A couple of deep breaths and you made your way back to your bedroom. You paused when you saw Bucky holding a framed photo of you and your friends, longing in his eyes when he lifted his gaze. “You look so happy,” he murmured, carefully setting the frame down on the nightstand before he pulled the blankets back for you. “Can you do me one favor and I’ll go?”
“I was happy. It was a fun day.” You slipped into bed when he gave you space to do so, but his body was still close to yours. Firm. Hard. He really could pin you down and do what he wanted if he wished. “What’s the favor?”
He tucked the blanket around you, his hair falling into his face. You almost reached up to brush it back, but refrained. Who knew what your touch would do? “Look at me like you love me. Please.”
You stiffened as you stared up at his face, your heart simultaneously racing and breaking for him. Love was something that provided a sense of connection, fulfillment. It was a way to show you that you weren’t alone in the world. You wanted to believe you were worthy of love, that you could build a life with someone. Bucky believed he was that someone.
Why?
You weren’t sure if it was his yearning gaze or if you were ready for the night to end, but your expression softened as you imagined meeting him in another life. Going on fun dates, talking about books, making each other laugh as you cooked together, snuggling under a blanket as you talked about your future. You found yourself smiling at the images that went through your mind. What could’ve been. What could be if he lessened his hold a bit on you.
He audibly exhaled when he snapped a photo on his phone, making you blink. “Thank you. Now I can look at this whenever I’m not near you and need to feel your love.”
Words escaped you, the invisible collar around your throat getting tighter. You could only nod and wonder how you kept throwing fuel on the fire of his want for you. Which one of you would burn first?
“Get some sleep. Dream sweet dreams.” You felt featherlight kisses on each eyelid when you shut them. “You know, I’ll sleep a lot easier once you’re in my bed.”
“If you get me into your bed,” you mumbled, refusing to look at him.
“Stubborn kitten.” He chuckled and gave each eyelid one more kiss. Why were his lips so soft? “Maybe I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow so I can take you to lunch. You can tell Addison all about it.”
“Maybe.” You yawned and snuggled more into your pillows. “Good night, Bucky.”
A finger moved along your cheek before it stopped abruptly. “Good night, Kotyonok.”
Bucky still hadn't kissed your mouth.
You didn’t open your eyes as he left, but you didn’t fall asleep right away either. Your body was too wound up. Too many questions went through your mind. Like what happened with his parents and how exactly he’d move you out of your place.
The man was a step ahead in everything. You’d be in his penthouse before the month was over. He’d get his way, but maybe it didn't have to be his way completely. He could give you an area in the place for you and you alone. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. After all, he did say he’d make it up to you by dragging you out tonight.
And if he cared the way he said he did, he could give you that one small thing.
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Is our poor Kotyonok starting to accept the inevitable? Will Bucky stop by the shop? And how much longer until he really takes you to bed?Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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pastabaguette · 22 hours
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sorry for all the posts today, but this one is very important: alternian video game edits.
i actually have reasonings for all of their blood types, and a few classpects, so i'll dive into them here:
monika: i'm thinking that early in the game, during acts 1 and 2, she maybe masqueraded as a jadeblood or higher. only during act 3 does she reveal herself as a fuchsia to the protagonist.
gordon and alyx: gordon is probably a tealblood, or somewhere around there. fairly high, but not too high, i think. alyx is an olive, and eli is an indigo. azian was probably a gold. (or lime?) i did have to keep gordon’s orange HEV suit, though. surely you understand. okay, troll half life lore: i think on alternia, all the main characters in the half life franchise are like, olive or above. the rebels in follow freeman and the guards are all lowbloods, so that the player doesn't feel too bad about sacrificing them, or something like that. i think this would be something that would happen in an alternian video game, at least.
agent 47: 47 is actually a mutant, due to being manufactured in a lab. he's a weird ice-blue color. he's still got that piercing stare. i felt a little sad changing his iconic red tie, but i do have some thoughts on that as well. obviously, red in human culture tends to symbolize passion, among other things, and in this case, violence and aggression, because it's the color of blood. however, because trolls all have different blood colors, i think they might have different meanings attached to colors than humans typically do. i think that typically, the colors that would most commonly represent aggression in alternian culture would be blue (cobalt and indigo) and purple. now, i know that the sea dwellers exist, but since the vast majority of trolls are lowbloods, they would have a lot more contact with the land-dwelling highbloods, rather than the fish. so, 47’s tie is blue. (i also just think it looks cool matching his eyes)
chell: I made chell a bronzeblood. she’s a test subject, but not one of the special ones (astronauts, olympians, etc). she’s just another lab rat. (also, a lot of her outfit is orange…)
now for classpects! i only have two i’m sure of as of now:
gordon freeman is an heir of hope. this one is fairly obvious to me. a common belief is that heirs have the ability to become their aspect, in a way. in half life 2, gordon quickly becomes the main symbol of the resistance on earth. for the rebels, he himself IS hope.
agent 47 is a prince of life. again, it’s a common interpretation that princes are themselves void of their aspect, and they destroy that aspect in others. this is really literal, obviously, but as a hitman, 47 kills people. literally destroying life. as for his own lack of life in himself, it’s pretty simple as well. 47 is almost always described as entirely void of emotion and empathy. others often remark on his soulless stare, a lack of life behind his eyes. so, as a prince, he fulfills both criteria there.
holy hell, that was a lot of words. i didn’t intend to talk this much. feel free to add your own thoughts; i’d like to hear what others think. these descriptions were a bit rushed, and i don’t really consider myself to be very good at communicating my thoughts, so a lot of things may have been lost in translation. i’d be happy to try and elaborate on my reasonings for any of them.
(oh, also, please no alyx spoilers. i haven’t played it yet!)
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after-witch · 3 days
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How a Minute Spends Now [Yandere Platonic L Lawliet x Sibling Reader]
Title: How a Minute Spends Now [Yandere Platonic L x Sibling Reader]
Synopsis: Your brother is dead. What pieces are there left to pick up?
Word count: 3800ish
notes: yandere, abusive sibling dynamic, grief and death mentions
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Your brother is dead.
And oh, it’s clear now: whoever said death was an inevitable cold hard fact was a liar. Or stupid. Or both. Because this fact is not cold or hard; it’s warm, oozing, feeling like so much black sludge running between your fingers. 
You’ll never get it off--the death, yes, and the awful, sinking realization--
Your brother is dead and their first priority was not to tell you. 
They don’t bring you into a quiet room and ask you to sit down, before explaining in sympathetic, gentle tones that something bad has happened. That the brother who carried you through hell as a child, who kept you safe (and locked away) well into your thoroughly stunted adulthood, will never be coming back again. That you’ll never hear his voice or see his face or feel his touch. 
No. They don’t bother with you, first.
Their first priority is to gather together two of those damned groomed successors--Near and Mello, of course--and take them into a quiet room and explain, softly but succinctly, that L was dead.
That’s how you hear the news. You’d followed along, hackles raised when they were gathered up, and padded silently into the next room with a sourness in your stomach. And that’s how you hear it. With your ear pressed against the wall of the room next door, gleaning snatches of the conversation afterward through a horrible ringing in your ears.
(And aren’t you an awful thing? That you didn’t know until that moment? That you weren’t struck numb the moment he died thousands of miles away, that some guttural psychic primal instinct inside you didn’t say: Something is wrong and my brother is dead. Aren’t you a shitty person, that you didn’t somehow know without the muffled words through the wall?)
Mello is loudest. He cuts through that awful, disbelieving buzz that courses through you. 
“Who did he pick--”  And you don’t have to hear the rest to know what he’s asking. Did L pick him--or Near--as a replacement? As if he could be replaced. As if someone could simply step into his shadow and wear his skin.
“He didn’t have time,” answers Roger, and you puke a little bit of breakfast back into your mouth. 
What a thought--that L had been snuffed out without warning. Without time to think about it. Without time to regret, to come to terms--to call you. 
What was he thinking about, as he died? Was he thinking at all? Was there even the quickest of thoughts about you or your parents (distant, foggy beings that they were) or something else, something you would never know because your brother always kept some parts of him out of reach?
The wallpaper scratches underneath your fingernails, and a dim part of you wonders if they can hear it beyond the wall. Maybe you want them to hear you, hear the way your fingers dig into the paper and drag down as you slide onto the floor.
Your brother is dead, and you’re alone, and what the fuck was any of it for, if he was just going to get himself killed?
--
They do get you, eventually. Or rather, they find you, quiet and curled up in the corner of the room next door, a room you ought never to have been in. 
You don’t respond to the quiet calls of your name. You don’t respond when they step inside and Roger crouches down beside you, asking if--and he doesn’t finish the question, because he knows that asking someone “Are you all right?” when they are in a tight fetal position after clearly hearing news of their brother’s death through an orphanage wall is a stupid fucking question.
So all Roger does is put a hand on your shoulder and squeeze. It means nothing, and you get no comfort from it. No one here could comfort you. No one alive. 
“L left a letter for you,” Roger says, and it’s only now that you turn your head to look up at him. “Before he left for the Kira case.”
Kira. If only everyone who uttered that name had their tongue turned to ashes. 
“Give it to me,” you whisper.
--
It is his handwriting. Not a typed letter, which could be a forgery. No, this was written by his hand, his distinct scrawl. But what sealed the authenticity was that it was written in invisible ink, revealed through a solution only you had access to; L made it himself. Because he was smart--and a pompous asshole. 
But that’s how you know in the end that it’s not a fake, but a real letter. The last letter you’ll ever get from him. 
You bring the paper to your nose and sniff; it doesn’t smell like him. Maybe it did, at first, before whatever filing cabinet they’d stowed it in leached away the scent. Or maybe it smelled like him before you poured the solution on, and your anticipation to read what he said destroyed your last chance at remembering what he smelled like. 
It doesn’t matter.
The letter is simple and your hand trembles and the first words on the page hurt--tears drip down stupidly and turn blue when they hit the chemical solution on the paper. 
He’d make fun of you for crying, before wiping your tears with his shirt, so you’d call him gross and smile and feel a bit better. He would do that, if he were alive. But he can’t, because, as the letter says--
If you are reading this, I am dead. Kira has killed me. 
I was aware that this was a possibility--
Oh, fuck him. Fuck. Him. 
There is the urge to crumple the paper now. To find a fireplace and make someone light it and watch the paper burn, chemicals sparking, with satisfaction. How dare he. How dare he chase after this case, knowing it was a possibility, knowing that you might end up staring at this letter. Knowing that you’d be so utterly fucking alone. 
Breath coming in shallow pants, you keep going. 
I was aware that this was a possibility and I’ve prepared for it, as such. You don’t need to worry about money. It’s taken care of. You don’t need to worry about a place to live. It’s taken care of. 
You realize, dimly, that one of your hands has begun to pound against the wall. Who-cares-who-cares-who-cares. You don’t want to know that there’s money and a place to stay. 
What you want is your brother. 
You want him here so you can grab his shirt and tug him close and tell him he’s a massive asshole and you love him. You want him to tentatively wrap his arm around you, to give you a pat, to murmur something about being too clingy. 
You want him to suddenly pull your hair so you can stomp on his foot. You want to curl up in bed, like you used to, and wait for him to stroke your back to sleep while you asked him questions about anything and everything. His voice would be soft and dull, walking that fine line between patience and annoyance. You’d fall asleep while he told you something especially important, and he’d debate flicking your head to wake you up, a 50/50 chance that he’d do it.
But he can’t do any of these things. Not now. Not ever again. He has no voice to speak with, no body to touch. He has no more life in him at all. 
You couldn’t even visit his grave, assuming he had one. 
The tears are hot against your eyes as they drip-drop and stain the page now. It’s not fair, none of this. The death and the letter and the gray future ahead of you.
But you have to keep reading. Every word is precious, the last ones you’ll read from his hand. And maybe--this is awful, isn’t it--maybe this letter is where he finally has to admit that he’s been selfish. To keep you locked away, to put his need for control over your need to live a real life, to stay away as much as he does--as much as he did.
Maybe this letter is where he admits his faults as a brother, so you can cry over something other than the feeling of a gutted cave inside your chest. 
Maybe this is when he admits he’s kept you wrapped in a useless bubble, and that was wrong, and now you’ll get to--
I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother.
The pounding on the wall stops. Thoughts come quick, snapping, punctuated by a red hot stings of electric hate. The bastard--how could he--why would he--the words don’t even seem to make sense, so you read them over and over and over, trying to understand. 
I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother. I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother. I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother. I have given instructions that my successor will care for you like a brother.
But no matter how many times you read them, the words don’t register as anything but a jumble of phrases put together. He couldn’t have written that. But he did. Yet the very thought that someone else would care for you like a brother--
No. Your brother is dead, and no one can replace him. Not as the best detective in the world, not as your brother, not as anything. How could he, why would he, there’s no answer that comes so you let the questions singe the air instead. 
There’s a woozy, hazy fuzz that descends on your head like a net, and you lean against the wall. Red-hot anger simmers, bubbled with a hazy grief, as you force yourself to continue. 
I have left them detailed instructions on how to care for you. 
The words drop into your stomach hard, with no reprieve. He left instructions for your care, like you were a pet being looked after on a vacation. Fucker. You try to determine if it was a joke, or an intentional slight meant to irritate you, or not something he put any spite into at all. Was he being sincere? 
Because--well.
Is it entirely wrong? You and the figurative pampered dog both leapt to attention whenever your owners--whenever your brother--deigned to come home from vacation. From solving crimes. Both whined when he left. Both circled and moped, staring out the window, hoping for their return.
Not that there would be any return for L.
You will be safe and protected, as you were under me.
A hand goes to your mouth, covering a smile that no one else is here to see. Safe and protected, sure. Like a princess in a fairy tale, like some maiden kept under lock and key in a dragon-guarded keep. Only the dragon never breathed fire--only familiar platitudes and a comforting sameness that chained you down as well as the actual locks on the doors, the security cameras, the strict instructions for the security guard at the gate.
But you were safe, and you were protected. And here you are, now, wet tears on your cheeks, anger in your stomach and a smile on your face, because your brother apparently put you in his will like some sort of inheritance for whoever takes up his mantle. 
Please don’t do anything foolish now that I’m gone. Not that it stopped you, before.
A flash in your mind, the image of your brother’s smirk, curling up at the ends. A thumb in his mouth to soften it. 
It aches and it doesn’t, this image, the clear sense of L in these words. Why can’t he be here? Why this pain, this gouged sense of reality that makes you feel like screaming until there’s no more air in your lungs? 
Your hand finds the wall again, scratching at the paper with as much force as you can, rippled scratches following in their wake. 
Better the paper than your skin--your skin will heal. They’ll have to replace the wallpaper if they want to fix the jagged scratches. Let them replace it. Let them replace it like they want to replace your brother, and see where it gets them. You’ll be there in either case. 
There’s nothing more on the paper. You’re not sure if you expected there to be; you can’t imagine him writing soft, sweet words of comfort. He never said them, not exactly, so why write them now? No “I love you,” no “You’ll be fine without me.”
But, ah. There’s more to that, isn’t there? L would never write “You’ll be fine without me,” because he didn’t like to lie. 
And who is the successor that will receive these so-called instructions? He hasn’t chosen anyone. Roger, you’d heard, suggested Mello and Near work together. Fat chance. Like they would--like they could. 
They couldn’t, and they can’t, and they don’t. It isn’t long before Mello leaves and there’s one less orphan in the building, and Near steps in.
To be trained, to be raised, to study the Kira case--to take care of you, so says your dead brother in his last letter. 
But Near isn’t L. 
And you’re alone.
--
It is not terribly long after you become brotherless--and rudderless--that you walk into your room to find Near sitting on the floor, stacking rows of gray, pattern blocks that resemble a cityscape in the center of your private little space.
The sight of him is wrong. He looks--not like L, not in that way. But the posture. The outfit. If you squint--and you do--you can blur him into something like a younger version of your brother. Different hair, of course, but didn’t he sometimes sit like that when he played? When he refused to share his blocks, and made you watch him play, and occasionally deigned to let you place a piece or two as long as you put it exactly where he told you?
And you always did, little fingers trembling, because you wanted him to think you were good enough to listen. Good enough to do what he says, because he was older, and smarter, and you should listen to him. 
There’s a lump in your throat before you realize it.
”Why are you here?” Your own voice is a croak, rusted from ill-use. Crying. Shouting. Not talking for hours until you had to.
It’s not like you had too many people to talk to, anyway; but if you get him to talk, then this blurry vision will vanish. Near might look a bit like your brother, might have the same penchant for picking things apart, but he wasn’t L. Never would be, not really.
He doesn’t look up when you speak. Thank God for small mercies. Instead, he takes one finger and pushes it in the center of a block tower, creating a window. 
“Roger said you were upset.”
The temptation to blur vanishes with the sound of his young and decidedly not-L voice, and it’s easier to cross your arms, to put up the defenses. 
“Obviously.” A little less dry now. A little more sarcastic. And a little more alive than you’ve sounded in weeks, or months, or however long it’s been since your brother ceased existing and your life at Wammy’s became all the more bleak. “My brother died.” 
Near’s eyes finally flick up to you before they dart back down to the blocks. He carefully slips a block figure--a bland smiling thing--into the window. 
He speaks softly, with little intonation. You hate how familiar it is. 
“That is, upset about me.” 
The sound of your stupid little intake breath in the quiet room is a little too much to bear, and you try to focus on the sound of the blocks instead. The small shift of the pieces as he slides them here and there, the clacking sound as they stack together. 
Click. Clack. 
What does Roger know, anyway? 
“Not about you… in particular,” you admit. It’s the most you’ve admitted to Near in--well. Ever. It’s not like you were eager to talk to many of the children at Wammy’s, especially when you outgrew them. Yet unlike the orphaned faces that faded from memory in time, you weren’t adopted, weren’t eased into some other life outside these walls; instead, L kept you here, guarded, safe, and completely stuck. 
And you are stuck. You’re an adult. You could’ve stormed out the doors the minute L died, you’re sure, legally speaking (before that--even--before that you could’ve left); started walking and taken up a job at some shitty diner and rented a room in a seedy motel until you were on your feet. 
It’s something that you’d threatened in L’s face from time to time, and he didn’t even deign to take you seriously, and it’s only now that he’s dead that you understand why.
He knew you wouldn’t leave. Couldn’t leave? Maybe it’s the same thing. Because he was right. There’s no life for you out there; no life for you in here, except for what L left you, which includes--somehow--this boy in front of you, stacking blocks, who is supposed to take up the position of older brother. In capturing Kira and everything else.
“I’m going to take care of you,” he says, all matter-of-fact. “L left instructions.” 
Your chest squeezes. Those fucking instructions. You had asked--stormed up in a huff, demanded, in a tantrum--Roger to read them, and he refused. Said L indicated the letter was for his successor’s eyes only. 
So all you had was your imagination; did L write down a list of things you liked, things you didn’t like? Did he rattle off your favorite foods, what time you were supposed to go to bed, what to do if you had a meltdown and began to cry over your social isolation? Or did he--the thought was tempting, however improbable it was--write something more sentimental? 
Logic and bitterness win out, and you imagine Near reading the details of the letter meticulously, probably looking for the words-within-the-words, all while flying an airplane with his other hand. 
“I’m not a dog.” Your eyes dart over the blocks, over the memory of all the toys you’ve seen Near playing with; there’s something painful in that image, for too many reasons. “Or a toy.”
“Yes, I know.”
Near doesn’t look up again. Instead, he flicks his hand, and knocks over the tower with the window, with the smiling person inside, who topples to your carpeted floor. Something about it makes you want to laugh; makes you want to get on the floor and ask if you can push over the next one. Tears prick at the edge of your eyes. 
Instead of swooping onto the floor, you weave around the circular city he’s created in your room without permission, and climb onto your bed. The book you were reading this morning is still there, ragged bookmark jutting out of it. Your bed is unmade, otherwise. Sheets rumpled and unwashed. You haven’t bothered with the bed since L died. Haven’t bothered with a lot of things, besides. 
It was an older book. A philosophical treatise from the 1930s, when Europe was on the cusp of war; translated into English and shuffled around the hands of starving artists and avant garde thinkers until, decades later, it landed, battered, onto the shelves of the orphanage for gifted children. Gifted children and you, L’s leftover baggage.
Well. If Near is going to barge into your room without permission, you won’t let it impact your day. Roger said if you didn’t start eating again, you couldn’t borrow books; that’s where you’d been, before you came back. Grabbing something to eat under his watchful eye and eating it with deliberately pointed chewing motions, as if it bothered him.  
So you’ve eaten. Now you can read. 
“What are you reading?” He asks, like he didn’t already see the title of the book. He probably saw it on your bed whenever he first came into your room. Probably knows exactly where it rests in the Wammy library when it’s not checked out, and who else has read it besides you.
But he’s asking anyway and something empty in you clings to that question, as you curl up on your side--body and soul aching for the physical curled-up nest of your brother that doesn’t exist anymore.
You hold up the cover and shrug, hiding the need, pushing down the urge to bury your face in your pillow and have an imaginary conversation with your dead brother.  It wouldn’t be the first one you’ve had this week.
Near’s eyes flick to the book, before he works on creating another tower. 
“Do you like it?”
Your heart clenches. You’re reading into it, the way it reminds you of L. The way the question is open and you can’t tell if it’s asked because he thinks the book is pointless trash and will find you silly if you like it, or because he genuinely wants to know. 
It’s not a book you’d read again, that’s certain. Not because you think it’s awful, but because none of it really makes sense to you. You’d grabbed it because the thought of reading a novel you’d been eager to read while your brother’s corpse was buried thousands of miles away made you want to vomit. So a random philosophy book was the better option. 
You don’t want to tell Near all of this; because of his age, because he’s little more than someone you know, and because like your brother, you want to keep some things secret. 
“I don’t understand most of it,” you admit, finally, the words sticking to your mouth a little. A bit of truth would be okay, in the end. “I just wanted to occupy my time, I guess.” Reading words from someone who furiously pushed them out on his typewriter almost a hundred years ago was better than thinking about who wasn’t in the room. 
Near smiles, a little, not looking away from the blocks. 
“Do you want to help?”
He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, picking up each piece carefully and stacking it just-so. He leaves the toppled tower, figure and all, where it is. 
You’re not sure how long you wait before deciding.  All you know is that in your isolated room at Wammy’s, with only a window to the outside world you’ve barely known to give you any inkling of the passing of days, you slide onto the floor and tentatively pick up one of the toppled blocks.
Near doesn’t tell you to leave those where they are, and that’s okay.
He doesn’t tell you where to put it, either, as L would have certainly done--and somehow, that’s okay, too. 
210 notes · View notes
xomakara · 3 days
Text
Love Under the Western Sky
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SUMMARY | Two businessmen, Yunho and Mingi, are kidnapped by you, a female outlaw, and your gang, but eventually fall in love and build a life with you and your community.   
PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Mingi
GENRE | businessman!Yunho, businessman!Mingi, outlaw!Reader, Western AU (off to the wild west we go), non-idol au, smut
CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, kidnapping, threesome, mentions of violence (gunfights), fingering, blowjobs, double penetration sex, unprotective sex, dirty talk, praising, pet names
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
LENGTH | 15,491 words
TAGLIST | --
NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet
@k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety
AUTHOR’S NOTE | Finally took forever! I want to thank @hobeemin for the beautiful banner/divider and @daddyfordaeddy for beta reading this long ass fic. Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚
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Yunho and Mingi did not imagine being in this situation. They did not think that they'd be tied up together as a band of crazy outlaws surrounded them.
"We're so fucked," Yunho said as he looked at Mingi. They were both bound by their wrists to each other's backs. Mingi was fiddling with the knot, but it seemed hopeless.
"It's your fault for flirting with her," Mingi snapped. "If you would've just listened to me‒"
"How was I supposed to know that she'd tie us up?!" Yunho replied. "I didn't even think she was a bandit! I thought she was just a pretty lady on the train."
"And look what happened!" Mingi retorted.
Yunho scowled. "Oh shut up. You were flirting with her too. If anyone should be blamed, it's you. You're the one who wanted to start a business out West."
"It was a good opportunity!" Mingi exclaimed.
"Yeah, and we lost our money. Good job," Yunho said sarcastically.
"Hey!" Mingi exclaimed. "If you didn't take the gamble with that asshole‒"
"Shut up, both of you!" You turned to face Mingi and Yunho, a knife pressed against your palm. The sight of you approaching made Mingi nervous.
He had heard of the West being a rough place. And he'd heard of bandits roaming the land, taking whatever they pleased. But he'd also heard of ladies like you. Pretty faces who lulled men into a false sense of security with their smiles before robbing them. He just never thought he'd actually meet a lady like that. And that lady being so damn beautiful was unfair too!
"Miss!" Mingi started. "Whatever you do, don't shoot us. I have money back home. A nice home and a lot of money. If you just let us go, I could make sure you-"
"Let you go?" You scoffed, grabbing Mingi's chin, holding his jaw. He tensed as your thumb moved over his lips. "Now why would I do that, pretty boy? I like a man with a mouth."
"Pretty bo‒ hey! Leave Mingi alone!" Yunho snapped.
"Or what, big boy?" you taunted.
"Big‒" Yunho began to stutter.
"Forget it," Mingi sighed as he looked at you. "Can we please just get this over with? Just rob us and send us on our way."
"Honey," you chuckled. "You really think we just want a bag full of cash?" You leaned down in front of the two and placed the tip of the knife beneath Mingi's chin. You trailed the blade along the length of Mingi's neck, giving him a grin. "You and big boy over here are part of the loot."
Yunho grumbled as you stepped away to greet a couple members of your gang as they finished raiding the train cars. "What the hell did they mean we were part of the loot? Why wouldn't they just take our things? Wouldn't it be easier? That's what I'd do, if I were an outlaw."
"You can't ask something like 'wouldn't it be easier'!" Mingi hissed. "There's plenty of shit outlaws can do."
"Okay, well if I were a murderer, you wouldn't be my loot," Yunho scoffed. "No offense."
"A little bit taken," Mingi admitted.
"Whatever. This doesn't matter. We just need to find a way to escape," Yunho sighed as he twisted around, trying to untie the ropes around his wrists. "Just keep an eye out for a sharp object or something."
Mingi nods. It wasn't going to be an easy task to get loose, not when a member of the gang had kept watch on them every minute they could, ensuring that Mingi and Yunho didn't get anywhere. But as Mingi had a thought to perhaps strangle Yunho for putting them in the position they were currently in, another member of your band made his way to the two.
"Hello boys," he smiled, squatting in front of the two with the ax on his shoulder. Both Mingi and Yunho tried to speak, but neither were able to form words under the pressure that man's presence seemed to exude.
"Shit," Yunho whispered, "we're really fucked now."
"Shut it, both of you," you turned, crossing your arms as you walked over. "Jongho, they're looking to escape. Keep an eye on them."
"No worries," Jongho replied. "I got 'em."
"Get Yeosang over here to help you," you said as you looked at the train platform. "I'll get the rest of the gang to load up the horses and wagons. Then we ride off with these two big fish."
"Are we bringing any other folks?" Jongho asked.
You hummed as you squatted down and looked at both Yunho and Mingi, turning their faces. Both men looked at you like children being scolded. Your laugh couldn't be stopped as you patted their faces and stood back up. "These two will be more than enough. If anyone is looking for them, I bet they're gonna offer a lot. And if they won't, we'll sell 'em," you said it simply, shrugging it off.
"Well, boss, I reckon you're right. Anybody that would travel in luxury like them must be rich," Jongho nudges Mingi, making the man scoff. "Hell, with a pretty face like yours, boy, you'll be worth double, ya hear me?"
You laughed as Mingi huffed in response to being teased. You tapped Yunho on the cheek, catching his attention. "And I can see why you'd make quite the catch too, sweet pea. And a smart one I'd suppose. Just look at that handsome face."
"I‒" Yunho couldn't even come up with a response, not that anyone cared to hear him talk. You laughed again.
"That settles it then," Jongho turned, and, as instructed by you, went to retrieve Yeosang. "We best get these boys loaded up."
"Give me your kerchiefs," you ordered. "We don't need any yelling or shouting to draw attention."
"Yes, Boss. Got it." Jongho patted your shoulder and began to make his way to Yeosang, leaving you with Mingi and Yunho as members of your gang began to herd passengers onto the train again.
It was not difficult for you. Not at all. 
However, you still had quite a job ahead.
"C'mere, sweet cheeks," you leaned down, getting right in Yunho's space. Your lips close to his ear as you whisper. "You want out, you'll have to ask me."
"You are absolutely mental‒" Yunho gasped. "Please, let us go‒"
You press a finger against his lips, cutting off any begging from the man. 
"Shh, sweetheart. If I wanted you to beg, I'd put that pretty mouth of yours to use," you chuckled, standing up straight once again. Yunho did nothing to hide the flustered expression and you simply flashed him a sly smile as you gagged him. You turned to Mingi. "How about you pretty boy?"
"Uh..." Mingi felt embarrassed just from you having tied the gag in Yunho's mouth and could imagine how red his face must be. "I was gonna beg‒"
"Hush," you hummed. "Sweet talking can get you places, but here? Not with me, it won't." You stroked his face, the smile returning to your features. "However, I would appreciate a silent partner. Like your friend there."
You turn from Mingi, deciding it'd be easier to let Yeosang and Jongho help you finish the job rather than tease the two boys for much longer.
After gagging Mingi, your boys do their job well, helping load Mingi and Yunho onto the back of a wagon to prevent them from running away. As much as your heart fluttered watching these tall men be tossed and turned by Yeosang and Jongho, it wouldn't be fun to chase them down should they decide to run off.
You mounted your own horse, petting her neck. She gave a slight whine before letting you settle. 
"I know, sweet girl," you coo. "Almost finished. Once we get home we'll be sure to give you lots of apples." She perks up and you chuckle.
"Got 'em, boss," Jongho announced. His horse trotting up beside yours. He stopped, tossing the reins of a mare that was following. You caught them, giving them a gentle tug, startling the horse.
"Good," you said, "I think it's time we leave."
You watched as Hongjoong and Seonghwa rode beside the wagons. San and Wooyoung on the back of wagons keeping close watch on the hostages and loot.
"Our day will end successfully, boys!" You shout.
They shout and cheer, happy from a day of plunder and robbery. It was quite the sight to behold and the poor city folk who saw your little caravan riding off into the wild definitely knew not to trifle with you or your people.
By now Mingi and Yunho had gotten comfortable with the ropes and their gags. Well, as comfortable as one could get with their ankles and wrists bound together and forced to ride in the back of a wagon.
In fact, as you and your crew got far off from the tracks, the rope around their wrists was cut by one of the men as a kind gesture.
"Looks like you two are the lucky ones. Our boss has a soft heart," Wooyoung added with a grin as he untied the last of Mingi's ropes and the gags. "But if y'all try to escape or scream, not sure what boss will do to you.”
"Oh trust me, we've heard the threats," Mingi replied as he rubbed his sore wrists. He sat up and looked at you, who was riding slightly behind the last wagon, speaking to Seonghwa and Hongjoong. "Who is she, anyways?"
“I’ll tell you the basics but don’t you dare repeat it to Boss or you’ll both be six feet under, got that?” Wooyoung warned.
The men nodded their heads quickly, agreeing that keeping their heads attached to their bodies would be preferred.
“Well… our boss comes from a rich family, back East,” Wooyoung explained. “Tons of land, cows, money and a father with an ill temper. The name isn’t something I feel too happy sayin’ aloud but they’re well known. Their sons, I guess you’d say they’re their greatest achievement. Good looks, but those same bad habits that plagued their father. But he had an eldest who was the best of them. Smart. Quick to make deals. Definitely the favorite out of the three sons. Boss’s family never paid her much attention since they thought their first son would be a good investment for her father.”
"So wait..." Mingi hums, rubbing his sore wrists and watching you intently.
"Don't interrupt, boy," San clicked his tongue. "So long story short, Boss got fed up, robbed her older brother and his finances, left, and moved West where she began working in saloons before picking up some o' my friends along the way and started forming a gang of her own."
Wooyoung nudged San in the ribs, making the man wince. 
"Awww, it's not just any old gang, it's a band of brothers and our lovely boss in charge," Wooyoung said happily as the cart came to a halt, forcing you and Seonghwa to move into the front of the caravans.
"Maybe today is our lucky day, Mingi," Yunho nudged his companion.
"Lucky?" Mingi whispered. "We were kidnapped by an insane woman, and her group of bandits are kidnapping us! What part of that could be called luck?! She might just have us killed at her command and if we escape it could cause an uproar with her people. I'd say we were really and truly cursed to ever get to the West."
Yunho rolled his eyes. "You are stupid."
“Hey!” Mingi exclaimed, feeling offended.
"She obviously could have killed us if we had offended her. She took a liking to you because you're pretty, pretty boy," Yunho scoffed.
“Well she's been eyeing you, big boy,” Mingi teased. “Haven't you noticed the way she looks at us?”
Yunho opened his mouth, wanting to say you'd looked at them the same way plenty of ladies had. However, when Yunho took a deep breath to counter Mingi's theory, you appeared with a water canteen in your hand.
"Alright boys, take a drink. You might not be bound but you aren't gonna cause trouble are you?" You were smirking and Yunho hated himself for the blush rising from his neck up to his face.
Mingi takes the canteen first and takes a quick chug, realizing just how parched he had gotten. He pulls away from the canteen and looks at Yunho.
You flash a quick, cheeky grin. "See? Pretty Boy likes the treatment. I wonder if Big Boy is the same. Care for a taste, sweet thing?"
Mingi watched you teasingly pat Yunho's cheek with the back of your hand. He passed the water to Yunho, and after gulping down a bit of the refreshing water, Yunho gently pushed your hand aside and let go of the canteen.
"Gotta admit," Yunho shrugged. "I thought a pretty woman wouldn't go around shooting innocent folk."
"You know," you tilted your head. "People used to tell me I was sweet, pretty... so innocent. Nowadays they tell me that I'm mean, greedy and absolutely out of my mind. People love to judge."
"I can see why," Yunho admitted with a quiet hum, looking towards your retreating form. "But I have to admit. For a woman running with a gang of outlaws..."
"I'm not running with them, big boy," you stated. "They're running with me. Remember that."
You disappeared to continue talking to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, the two main strategists of the gang. Once you had gone, Mingi hushed his tone to a low whisper. "What the hell was that?!"
“I'm just admitting that I can see why men go chasing after her,” Yunho confessed.
"For the love of god," Mingi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you really this naive, or are you just ignoring the possibility she could kill you and I, and dump our corpses right here?!"
"Look..." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm trying to work on being optimistic."
"Trying. Trying," Mingi mimicked. "That's rich."
“Okay! Fine, genius, you have an idea then!” Yunho challenged.
"Well, no, not yet," Mingi responded, looking at the scenery around them.
"We're fucked aren't we, pretty boy?” Yunho sighed.
"...Yes."
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It had only been one night under the open night and another day of travel, but Yunho and Mingi were honestly ready to be killed, whether by the cold or by the outlaws. The blanket on top of their bodies provided little to no warmth and while they tried their hardest not to freeze in the back of the covered wagon, you were bundled up nicely.
As soon as it seemed the two would have finally lost feeling in their fingertips, you turned to them with the same, cool, indifferent gaze as the rest of the outlaw gang. Your features were smooth, but they all had hard eyes, and your band was made of some of the most brutal cowboys and bandits.
"I'm impressed, gentlemen. How are you not frozen stiff?” you asked, surprised.
Yunho wondered this as well, and found himself trembling from the chill that nipped at his nose, ears, and fingers. The flimsy, dirty cloth the two shared between the both of them offered little protection from the cold, and no comfort.
"Can I ask you a question? A personal one," Yunho was rubbing his numb fingers, desperate for heat.
You are riding next to the wagon again. Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still not willing to let you ride ahead on your own, in the event either of your hostages were foolish. "Since you were brave enough to ask it, yes. You may. It depends on the question though."
"Fair point," Yunho acknowledged. He and Mingi could have just asked anything to anger you. "My question... Why outlaws? If your family is as well off as I'm assuming-"
"So one of the two idiots," you looked at San and Wooyoung who both suddenly avoided looking at you, "told you, huh? It was bound to happen... But that is a fair question. In return, can I ask you some questions, big boy?"
"Sure," Yunho nodded.
"I know you have some skill with a gun, big boy. That must have come from a long line of working cowboys or farmers, right? Compared to pretty boy there," you point to Mingi, the man practically fuming about being called pretty boy. You continue. "It's just a feeling I got. Why didn't you grab a gun? Try to save yourself, sweet pea? Or maybe pretty boy was holding you back?"
Yunho shifts. His necktie hanging loose, and his clothes being an absolute mess. He shrugged, trying his hardest not to stammer. He was absolutely nervous by your blunt observation, yet could not say you were wrong.
"Funny..." Yunho muttered. "You read me pretty well."
"So? Why were you worried about that pretty face of yours, Mister...?" You looked at Yunho, trying to fish for a name.
"Yunho. Jeong Yunho," He cleared his throat. "Yea. And this is Song Mingi. He's my business partner and best friend. We've come out West to make a new future for the two of us. Mingi can use a gun but isn't a master at it. I wouldn't call him a coward, but he'd be a fool if he ever decided to pick a fight he knows he can't win."
“And you?” you asked, “Would you have shot me and the rest of my gang if pretty boy wasn't here, or did you hesitate for another reason? A lady in the group, for instance. Are you a man who won't shoot a woman, Jeong Yunho?”
Mingi gulps. "Don't answer that, Yunho‒"
Yunho doesn't get a word out before you interject, "Let him speak, pretty boy."
"I hesitated, because even if you're a woman, I'm not a fan of shoot-outs," Yunho explained, staring directly into your eyes.
"Is that so?" You seem satisfied enough by that answer, a grin plastered on your face. It unsettles Yunho. You have something behind that grin, he was sure of it. "Since you answered a few of my questions, I'll answer yours. Yes, I'm from a well-off family, and yes my father is a wealthy landowner. He owns thousands of acres of farmland, livestock, and plenty of money. My mother was a socialite from overseas, and my oldest brother was gifted with good looks and smarts and was the favorite son. My other two older brothers were spoiled rotten and used my mother's social influence and our father's business ventures to try and bed as many girls they wanted. Me on the other hand? I was the black sheep in the family."
“May I ask why?” Yunho inquired.
You crossed your arms, taking a quick look around. As much as you admired Yunho for his handsome face, your trust in people had already run dry from years of interaction with your parents and your brothers.
"To put it simply, I wasn't perfect enough to bag a rich man who was perfect in my parents' eyes," your bitterness could be felt throughout your entire body. "I was 'too mouthy', 'opinionated’, and definitely didn't ‘act enough like a lady.' I learned how to shoot guns, ride horses like my brothers, and could tussle like any ole cowboy. So, when I realized no man of worth wanted a tomboy as a wife, I stole from my older brother, set off west to build my own fortune and found the friends you see surrounding us. With a bit of their help, the fortune I inherited from the past years of robberies and swindling is only getting bigger."
"Now tell me," you suddenly frowned. "Do you think I'd be content with the life of a trophy wife and a woman with nothing to her name, while you men get praised for being adventurers, explorers, and the kings of the world? To hell with that, sweet pea. I prefer the freedom to do what I want, to tame what I see. There's no room for people who get in the way."
You pointed the muzzle of your rifle towards the men and stared straight on. "You should know, Jeong Yunho. If you or Mister Song Mingi decides to try to kill any of my men, or escape, I will not hold back. This isn't an invitation to stay and work with us, this is a warning for what will happen if you don't behave yourselves."
"Got it... but it is awfully cold back here," Mingi finally added. 
You did feel a bit bad for them since they had given no problem at all thus far. Sure, there were times they both had argued about when would be the best time to escape and make a break for it, but ultimately, Yunho just didn't see the reason to harm or attempt an attack on someone who was not outright being hostile to them. He was a neutral man. Even when your crew had stopped for a bite to eat, both the hostages ate their meals in silence. Mingi did glare every so often and Yunho just seemed to zone out, even as some of your gang poked a little fun.
You nodded over to San, who threw a quilt to the hostages. "Fine. Since I trust you to be quiet for another few hours. We'll be stopping soon so everyone can stretch and sleep comfortably. Don't make me regret this, boys."
As much as Mingi complained, the extra warmth felt better than the previous night. The quilt was still dirty and probably hadn't been washed in a few days, but it was better than before. Yunho couldn't exactly hide his yawn and the way he relaxed now that the chill from his shoulders had gone. The threat of freezing to death was gone, but he felt a prickle down his back from you staring.
You turned your head back and patted your horse, cooing softly to the animal. Mingi caught your smile from the corner of his eye and pouted slightly, his lips puffing out more. He kept staring for a few moments longer, before Yunho nudged him.
"What?" Mingi whispered harshly.
"And you said that I was the one gawking. Looks like you can't help yourself from drooling over her either," Yunho snickers quietly. Mingi punches Yunho in the arm. "Oww! Will you stop hitting me?!"
"I won't let you make fun of me! Not when she's not listening!" Mingi points in your direction. 
“Then stop looking at her,” Yunho said.
“You stop looking at her!” Mingi retorted.
The banter continued a little while longer, and with the warmth from the quilt and a full stomach, Mingi began to feel his body sag. You listened as your gang members all laughed to themselves and teased your two hostages. You shook your head, not allowing them to know that they amused you.
When you approached Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you motioned them to dismount their horses for a moment. The rest of the men listened and stayed out of your sight as you moved towards the cart where the hostages were waiting.
"I hate to admit it, but our little hostages are surprisingly nice people," Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully, ignoring the angry glare sent by Yunho, and Mingi's nervous glances. Seonghwa was fairly intimidating, with his shaggy hair and sharp gaze. "The big one could have shot us when he had the chance."
"Sure," You agreed. "I feel a little bad but teasing them has been so fun."
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Mingi frowned as he had been contemplating everything that had been going on for the last day. They had not been beaten, nor were the hostages harassed beyond teasing. It was weirdly entertaining to find out that he and Yunho were seen as oddities because they didn't fight back. He thought at the beginning of how Yunho got them in this mess.
Yunho didn't have to flirt with the pretty woman he saw on the train. They could have been in another compartment and be far away from this woman and her insane, outlaw group. Why of all things did Jeong Yunho just have to stare at the pretty, petite young woman? 
Okay, sure Mingi thought she was just another passenger, maybe on her way west to visit family or something like that. Yet there she was, dressed to impress and there were whispers from fellow passengers when she got on. Even he could see the glimmer in his partner's eyes and hear the small comments that came out when Yunho first laid eyes on her. She was a beauty in anyone's books. Mingi and Yunho had a soft spot for dames and never considered that would be their downfall.
Yunho should have never caught her gaze and then before they knew it the dame came sitting across them. He kept the conversations light and easy between them three, and Mingi found himself taken along for the ride as they sat through hours of the same scenery, yet felt the journey go by just a bit faster thanks to a pretty gal like her being part of the equation.
When the sun started to set, that's when everything turned a bit south. There were six outlaws that pulled their horses over to the rail cars, their hats worn down and their faces shadowed from view by the shadows of their broad brimmed Stetson hats and the darkness setting around the group. Their movements were swift, pulling out guns that seemed to be as natural for them as breathing.
"Toss those weapons in here and stay inside ladies and gentlemen," said one man in the group, whose lips curled back into a crooked smirk.
"Miss, please stay in the compartment," Yunho assured the pretty lady. "You don't want to deal with the likes of these types of people."
You watch quietly, sitting in your seat without worry. The gunslingers came their way and took any weapons the other travelers had. When they got close, the two men's hands moved towards their belts in an instant.
"Leave the pretty lady alone or we'll have problems," Yunho stepped closer, pointing his pistol towards the gunslingers, though his finger hovered over the trigger, his movement unsure.
You glared at him with the iciest tone either man had heard in their lives. "Who are you calling a pretty lady?"
Your hand came around his gun, quickly prying it away, before yanking Yunho forward by the neckerchief that rested against his neck.
"H-hey!" Mingi saw her slam her head straight into the tallest man, bringing him to his knees.
"Thanks for the compliment, boys," you smirked, training the gun in his face. "But you'll find that I'm no dame or damsel in need of saving."
Yunho clutched his forehead, his brain running in circles as the two cowboys behind him jeered and poked fun at him. His expression dropped once his mind started working again and the pain subsided.
You turned to the outlaws. "Tie 'em up boys."
And now they were here sitting in front of the fire pit with outlaws watching their every move. Seonghwa stood beside the cooking fire, watching a bubbling stew boil. Wooyoung was still near them and just watching his surroundings.
“Here,” Mingi looked up when you handed him a bowl of stew. After that fiasco of a train heist, Mingi couldn't help but stare appreciatively at your figure. You no longer wore the dress from the train but instead wore a pair of britches that hugged your legs in just the right place. Mingi sighed, cursing the way his thoughts got out of hand. "Thanks..."
Yunho gladly took a bowl as well. And almost immediately he could taste a pinch of spices, he sniffed deeply. The stew was basic and yet it was the most flavorful one he's had for a long while. It was nice for them to take care of their hostages instead of starving them. They have plenty, and yet they were willing to share a meal.
After a long day, the stars were clear in the sky. The waning moon cast its glow on the land as the horses whinnied, happily feeding and drinking out of the troughs the outlaws left behind. Everyone had found their bedding areas, not too far away from their fire pits that now had hot coals in place and wood pieces above them to keep everyone warm.
While Yunho watched the flames dance, his thoughts wandered, mainly focused on his partner, and their trip. How did it come to this, he wondered. The two had a goal of starting a store of sorts, far away from the overbearing presence of families. For once, he wished for his old life. The one where he didn't worry about being held hostage, and Mingi wouldn't stare at him while he contemplated his decisions.
"If you look at me like that," Yunho began. "It feels like you are judging me for how stupid I was earlier."
He can't look at his friend right now. If he did, there is no telling whether Mingi is still mad, or still annoyed by the turn of events. Yet, Mingi's laughter surprised him. "Oh, I was definitely judging. I can't believe you got cocky around a woman and let her get the jump on us."
"Sorry," he laughed.
"All jokes aside..." Mingi placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "She is definitely a very different kind of woman."
A quiet settled upon the two friends. The crackling fire did little to calm Yunho's racing thoughts as the heat filled the cool evening air. In the distance, Yunho watched as you patted your horse, murmuring and comforting the large animal. A quiet, loving gesture shared with your animal companion, that the horse returned in the form of nuzzling its snout close to your neck and an affectionate lick from their tongue. The sight brought a smile to Yunho's lips as you let out a giggle, brushing your hand through the horses' mane. It was a peaceful display of affection, and his heart calmed a touch.
When you made it back into the clearing, he averted his gaze as you approached.
"It is getting late," your voice startled both of the men, their bodies immediately stiff. "Try to get some sleep like the rest of the guys. We leave at dawn. Don't try to escape or you'll get a shot to the leg, so stay put."
"Okay..." Mingi agreed.
"Hey, before you leave," Yunho paused. "We didn't catch your name earlier. Is it alright if we can get it?"
Your response was curt, as you eyed Yunho and Mingi carefully. "Y/N."
Yunho watches you turn and move away from him, towards one of the bedrolls that seemed to be set up for you, laying your weapon close by and then proceeding to climb in, rolling your body until the blanket covered your figure. A soft sigh leaves your lips before you lay on your back. Your eyes are closed and he wonders briefly what you could be dreaming about before deciding to take his mind off such things.
"A lady that can shoot a man, can't beat around the bushes, and a looker to boot..." Mingi said the words slowly, as if trying to digest the fact. "Who would've thought?"
Yunho thinks back on his experiences with women, from the social butterflies at parties to the women who had gone starry eyed and then fallen to their knees in front of him, pleading. But you were different. You weren't a proper lady or a demure creature that existed to keep the men's hearts aflutter and their imaginations afire, which wasn't uncommon.
If he's honest, he much prefers your company. While he is a gentleman to the core, he doesn't know what exactly he likes best about you. Yunho ponders a bit more. He considers a lot of things before his friend elbows him and his attention shifts back to the real world.
"She's something, alright. One hell of a woman, is all," he responded quietly. He's also very much attracted to you and he'd love nothing more than to charm you. That would definitely take the cake for the grandest adventure of them all.
Mingi sighs.
Both the men hunker down in their spots, curling together for warmth as the cool mountain air blows through. The scent of grass and fresh air blows past their noses as they doze off to sleep.
It's been an awfully long day.
After all, everyone was snoring the night away.
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When Mingi stirs awake, there's a good number of the gang up and preparing to get moving. Breakfast is hot, and with a sweet note, the outlaws treat their two hostages with kindness. After all, you had warned everyone before you went to sleep the previous night: anyone who threatened either hostage would find themselves in hot water. And you weren't kidding when you meant it.
You saddled the horses and each rider got ready. Yunho and Mingi were settled in the wagon as the riders surrounded the cart. Today was another long trip, but you can see the excitement in their eyes, especially the hostages who seemed curious and wondering when the ride would finally come to an end.
"You got a destination in mind?" Yunho calls out suddenly. He doesn't know why he decides to break the silence, but your face says it all when he sees you look at him and roll your eyes.
"Now why would I tell you that?" You snorted. "After all, there would be no real reason for either of you to know where we're heading."
"If we're just baggage, then I don't see the point of you hiding the fact," Mingi shrugged. "We'll find out once the days out."
"There's the next town westward where I'm planning on getting to sooner than later. Besides, what kind of bandits would we be if we revealed our hideouts?" You explain, keeping a watchful eye.
Mingi shrugs and makes an innocent expression. "No idea. You'd have to be real dumb for that. Guess not."
"Just hush up and behave. You two won't get hurt so long as we move along," you keep the wagon moving and ignore the quips and questions they throw.
Once at the gates of the town, a couple of the bandits lead the way. Wooyoung, San, Jongho, and Yeosang line up along the streets as the few people in town waved at you.
"Y/N! You're back!"
"Yay! They're back!"
Children giggled and waved their hands with happy smiles on their lips as they jumped. "Hello!"
You laugh softly when a couple of small children rush up to see their uncles. Each member happily interacts and takes the time to see the small children that had grown since the last time you all were in this part. You smile and pat the children on the back as you watch everyone settle into town.
"For an outlaw, she seems very loved by the townsfolk and children," Mingi muttered to Yunho.
Hongjoong hears this and raises an eyebrow. "She's not as bad as you two think."
"He's right, we don't follow her because she threatens our families. None of us are family here," Seonghwa cuts in, pointing at the men, women, and children around him and back in your direction. "These people...they are family. This is home. She takes care of them, protects them."
Yunho purses his lips, waiting for more, but Hongjoong continues, "Before all this, we had no place to call home. Y/N took us in, helped all of us find somewhere we could belong. Even if we wanted to leave, she wouldn't force us to stay, we'd be allowed to go. She won't shoot you and leave you out to die. But we're a family."
Jongho sighed, watching a small child giggling at you as she clung to your leg, "As an orphan, and someone who grew up without a family, seeing a home and a family like this? It gives me a reason for hope in a world full of strife and destruction, but when you meet a person like her..."
Yeosang hummed in agreement. "A woman that has such a strong love for children, and looks out for them as if they were her own? That alone is precious. But even then...that's not the main reason we follow her."
San nodded. "Sure she robs trains and banks...but all that money and gold she steals? It's not for her own use. She's done nothing for herself and gave us a new start in life."
Wooyoung lets out a sigh. "It's for these people. It's the children...we protect them because they have no one. For the women whose men go off and die on a battlefield, they have a way to live. For the men who can't work, can't find jobs and are struggling...for the elders whose children no longer can provide for them, or the people who have no one? They're everything."
"Y/N is a good woman," Seonghwa smiled. "We wouldn't leave her, just as she would never leave us either."
Mingi and Yunho exchanged a look as they turned to you. This revelation had surprised them and both decided to wait and see, for if what they heard is true, perhaps they had judged you a bit too rashly.
A child ran towards the wagon and peered up at them before looking at Wooyoung. "Who are they, Uncle Woo?"
"These guys are Yunho and Mingi, little ones," you came up, stroking the kids' head gently and the child cooed with joy.
"They look funny," another added as Mingi grinned at the kid. Yunho simply chuckled in amusement.
A few children crowded the wagon, wanting to see the strangers. You put them at ease, saying a few friendly words. Mingi reached forward to tickle one.
"He's pretty," one of the little girls pointed at Mingi and giggled.
You couldn't help but laugh. "He is, isn't he?"
One of the boys looked up at Yunho. "He's like a giant, Y/N!"
A second boy clapped. "Giant man!"
You smile widely. "Don't be so mean now. Come on, everyone."
The children jump and dance as they walk after you, chanting the phrase and a group of men soon join them. It was a rather humorous thing, having kids chanting 'giant man', to see Yunho so embarrassed. Mingi held a big smile as you listened to the children.
“Where did you pick them up?” a child asked curiously.
“Is one of them going to be your husband, Y/N?” a child asked innocently.
“No!” another child declared, “I think they're going to be like the other uncles!”
The children are merciless and relentless. Their teasing was making you laugh out loud and in return, that brought a blush to Mingi and Yunho's cheeks. A couple of kids gathered near Wooyoung. He glanced down before smiling.
"They really like their uncles," Mingi pointed.
Yunho smiled as he leaned back. "Look at that smile."
The outlaws were taken away with all the people and their families, greeting them with waves and smiles as a celebration appeared to be prepared for the whole afternoon and evening. You looked over to your hostages as a grin overtook your lips. "How would you fellas feel about enjoying a drink with me? You both could join the fun while we get ourselves set."
"Well we've come all this way..." Mingi murmured before a smirk found its way to his lips. "Why not enjoy ourselves a bit?"
Yunho nodded along, smiling in turn as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I had a good time."
You patted their shoulder, steering the two to a building. "Then, follow me."
Entering a saloon, Mingi and Yunho glanced around, eyeing the decorum that was inside the room. There are a couple of rooms and a stage that sat at the side of the establishment, a long bar at the opposite side, and in between, there is a seating area where some people sat. The two friends sit down with you at the bar.
A middle aged gentleman who happens to be the owner of the bar sees you and greets you in kind, happy that you came with guests.
"Goodness, and who are the two tall men accompanying you, Y/N?" His gentle eyes are wide, but not in a judgmental way, he seems quite pleasant.
You gesture your hand at the two gentlemen behind you. "This here's Mingi and Yunho, we've run into a bit of a...situation on the road. Decided to bring them in."
The older man hummed and tapped his finger on his cheek, grinning. "Ah, I understand."
Yunho decided to jump into the conversation. "You're very close with the townsfolk."
"Close may be one way to put it," you sigh. "Though...in reality, they're family."
“Family…?” Yunho asked, confused.
“That’s right,” you said. “These folks don’t have much to their name. And if it means using the money from robbing a few trains and banks? To ensure everyone is fed, clothed, and to take care of their loved one’s funerals or needs if it’s too late, it’s worth the price of jail or hanging for the consequences,” you finished firmly.
"Y/N here funded the saloon with business owners when they moved into town, helped the farmstead with the seedlings and labor," the older gentleman added as he cleaned a mug with a cloth. "Even has a doctor working for the people."
Yunho raised a brow, staring at the wooden surface of the bar top in front of him, deep in thought. When his attention shifts to you, he opens his mouth, hoping the question will do well. "I want to understand...so how does this work? No sheriff in sight, people all living this comfortably?"
The old man shakes his head. "No, there's no law man to protect us here...but Y/N and her gang have. We all know that she comes from good money and she could have looked the other way. But she didn't. We're like an oasis for all these folks."
"So they know you're an outlaw?" Yunho asks you.
"What about other cowboys that bother this town?" Mingi wonders.
The bar keeper smiles as he pours you, Mingi, and Yunho a pint of liquor.
"Mostly the town does have good relationships with all the ranchers and cattlemen here," the bartender states. "Of course, we've also met with the wrong people, but there is a small ranch that we've reached a deal with to handle such people should they happen."
You raise your glass towards the man and take a deep breath, exhaling the tension away. "Everyone here knows what I am and don't worry about any other issues coming here. The neighboring ranches tend to mind themselves, but most are on friendly terms with the town so it makes life pretty peaceful."
"Well that's certainly something," Mingi sniffs the mug that had been placed in his hands and shrugs his shoulders. He figured it wouldn't hurt and brought the drink to his lips. "And it's hard to not see why the people adore you. You and your gang are really good people. Never would have pegged you for a villain in a story."
"Did you think I was a villain?" You gave him an amused smile.
"Yeah, kind of. What do you expect? It's not every day that a group of train robbers shows up, scaring the bejesus out of a man like myself, and bringing me, another poor soul into whatever life altering plan they might have, let alone bringing us back to a home full of people, children, and the elderly," Mingi offered, sarcasm heavily dripped in his voice. He rolls his eyes for added measure. "The imagination runs wild in times of panic."
Yunho furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, in our defense, a group of strangers showing up, guns out and all, then ropes our arms up and threatens to kill us should we move the wrong way, does tend to rattle the bones."
"But you're the one who flirted with me, big boy. Should we rehash the details of that whole conversation?" you grinned at him and raised a brow in his direction, wanting a good reaction.
Yunho looked up to the ceiling, gulping the last of his beverage with ease, a handsome blush crossed his features.
You'd always taken to a bit of flirtatious ways, not very reserved, but charming nonetheless. Seeing this rugged and handsome man flush with color from simple flattery, only egged you on further to see what other emotions you could muster from the beautiful and curious man. You had to admit Yunho was more your type of man but Mingi certainly had a very nice personality.
Both were rather attractive in your book.
Mingi pokes fun at Yunho before clearing his throat and nudging him with his elbow. His partner swats him on the arm before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps another drink would put me at ease."
"In my company, I wouldn't mind at all. It would be an absolute delight," you simper.
The bartender nods and makes two more pints. Once they were placed on the counter, the man gestures a nod in Mingi and Yunho's direction. The two drink once the mugs are near their lips.
"Alright, you lot had me wrong, that was rude on my part," Mingi spoke before raising his mug, signaling his admission of apology. "There are a good lot here."
The older man and you take a drink in solidarity with him.
Yunho shares a genuine smile. "Well, thank you for the peace of mind that we have in our lives for now. Maybe...things could work."
You grin back. "Well, I'm glad to have both of your understanding."
"Is everyone ready for dinner?" Hongjoong shouts, breaking the three's conversation and the crowd cheered in return.
Children scamper away and adults gather outside for dinner. A few people were cooking in front of the bonfire outside the establishment, the women prepared the food as the rest of the gang sat with you.
"Yay, uncle Mingi and uncle Yunho will be able to join us today!" The little girl from earlier happily declared their presence and both men gave her soft smiles.
"Look, she's already calling you uncle." You pointed out.
"Come here, little missy," Mingi knelt down, beckoning the girl over.
You couldn't help the little hiccup in your chest when she came bounding over happily. Her soft plush face had a pink hue across her cheeks and she held a soft look. She really was cute as can be and even though the man before you was the opposite in height and temperament, the sight had you falling fast.
She sat on his lap and leaned back, resting against his large torso as they watched the sky start to brighten up with more orange streaks than red and pink hues. She whispers something in his ear and you couldn't help but see Mingi's cheeks redden. The child leans up to whisper in Yunho's ear and asks him most likely the same question since his cheeks flushed after listening to her as well. You watched as she ran away to throw herself in Yeosang's lap as he played and made faces to make her giggle.
"Well, what did she ask you?" You asked after sitting on the porch between them.
Yunho and Mingi fumbled a bit as they glanced at one another before Yunho began, "Missy wanted to know when we were going to marry you."
You blinked rapidly, caught off guard by the straightforward nature of the question. Mingi couldn't help but look up towards the sky.
Your jaw dropped at the bold question and you tilted your head to the side with interest. "Oh yeah? What did you tell her?"
They glance between one another before Mingi pipes up, "Told her we'd probably marry if you were down to have an arrangement. Not that she needed to know that last part."
The atmosphere changes with the different shades of lights. More reds and darker pinks painted the skies, bright and vivid, mixing to a light orange and gold color that brings a sense of peaceful tranquility to everyone.
You smiled at their answer and laughed at Mingi's last sentence. "Probably be married huh? It's been years since I've thought of marriage. Ever since I ran away."
"What's stopping you?" Yunho asked with a mischievous lilt, clearly feeling himself under your influence of mirth. "There's no real reason not to get married if you and another fancy it."
You purse your lips in thought, playing with the brim of your cowboy hat. "Who would want someone like me? As a bandit, my days are always in danger."
"We might," the taller man spoke without any sort of shame.
“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “Honey, you both couldn't keep up with me, that's no way to start a marriage.”
"Didn't mean to brag but...I'm no weak man," Yunho smirked and leaned close, resting an elbow on his knee.
Your own smile tugged up as a breeze blows past the three of you and ruffles your hair. You reach forward and rest your hand against Yunho's arm and smile softly. "Is that right? Because I like to ride long and hard at night."
Mingi stared wide-eyed at the double meaning while you fluttered your eyelashes.
Yunho sits up with a broad smirk, his smile teasing and gentle in a way he didn't want to stop, enjoying himself, letting himself unravel before your gaze as you invited him in. "Oh darlin'...I wouldn't mind seeing that."
A full grin appears on your face. You stand up slowly, bending towards Yunho with your chin lifted in pride. You meet his eyes, watching with awe when his attention travels across your facial features. A rush of delight flooded your senses with the feel of his heavy, loving gaze on you.
Yunho let his smile grow a touch wild as you ran a hand over his cheek gently before tugging his face by his chin, a silent command to listen closely. Mingi stares, enamored by the atmosphere. "I ride slow, darling, slow and steady. Feeling everything at a pleasant pace."
With an inhale, Yunho leaned further, a fire kindled in his heart with no intention of taming. Just as he did, Mingi leaned his head in your direction, his hand brushing the loose strand away from your eyes and to your ear. He gently tucked it behind and kept his fingers over your skin, warm and soft under his caress.
The sensuality of the moment lulls. Mingi and you stare at each other, observing the hunger brewing within your shared gaze and you press a hand over his lips to signal his end, waiting until you receive an answer from your last statement to Yunho. The large cowboy took a deep breath in and brought his cheek to the back of your fingers, placing a tender kiss to your skin before pulling back to observe.
With a playful nip to your fingertips, Yunho mumbled, his low, velvety tenor caused heat to pool in your stomach. "I hear what you're saying, sweetheart."
The brush of a finger to the back of your neck and you can see how Mingi was looking at you, the shine to his brown eyes reflecting the gold and orange lights as you stare and drop your hand back down to your side. Your hand naturally presses along Yunho's shoulder and takes hold of Mingi's sleeve with a subtle tug that beckons their closeness.
"Shame," you mutter as you grip their collars to pull the pair towards the entrance to the saloon.
Mingi leaned to your side with his face pressed against your ear. The heat and deep voice sent a shiver down your body. You can feel the way the gentle weight of Yunho's chest pressed against yours when he whispered, "Don't you want to see where the three of us can lead to?"
You let out a small laugh, your hand cupping his cheek. "Not tonight boys, not just yet."
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You watched as Yunho and Mingi happily played with the children, sharing stories from back home, telling tall tales, and entertaining the small community of misfits. Their infectious and open nature charmed all those around. It brought a sense of whimsical air that you didn't have a chance to breathe often, to just allow yourself a moment to relish in the simplicity of laughter and peace.
It was soothing.
"They seem to be fitting in well," Seonghwa offered his greeting after walking towards where you stood on the porch to the saloon. "The children seem to love them. And the adults too. I'd say it's because they bring new energy and energy for such folks is much appreciated."
"New stories. New tales," you added.
"Oh? Have you taken a liking to the hostages?" Hongjoong chuckles as he hands the two of you a mug with drink. He knows exactly the situation as it played out. He doesn't have anything but fondness in his eyes, seeing how fond you've become with the two of them and you shrugged.
"Maybe. Maybe they'll leave someday and I'll just miss the company of a handsome fellow. You can never have enough," you muse out loud. Hongjoong let his brow rise at you but couldn't hold back a teasing grin. He bumped shoulders, earning a hum of contemplation.
"Look, you know damn well you're the boss and none of us would stand between you and whatever makes you happy," Seonghwa answers. "But two businessmen? Y/N, they're from well-respected families and I'm sure men like them would want well-respected ladies."
"I know, Hwa," you huffed. "But I used to be one of those well-respected ladies. And you both were once those well-respectable gentlemen. Things change."
"Do you miss home, Y/N?" Seonghwa's question cut straight to the bone, digging into your chest in a way you hadn't considered. He notices it and so does Hongjoong who tried his best to let you come to a resolution yourself.
"No," you muttered, eyes never leaving the town, the lively noises, and the scent of cooked meat and sweets filling the atmosphere. "This is our home. These people need us and we wouldn't ever abandon them."
Hongjoong gulped down his mug, set it down, and leaned on the post, staring into the sky before continuing his line of thought. "Y/N. No matter who we are, and who they were...I know neither of us can go back and none of us should ever try and go back. We can only live right now. So, does it really matter? You've been with other cowboys before...surely rich boys aren't much of a different kind of challenge."
Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "I just don't want you getting hurt."
"It'll take a lot to hurt me, Hwa," you smiled at him. "But thank you for looking out for me."
Yunho and Mingi gaze in your direction and share a curious expression. One with a pink hue adorning the apples of his cheeks and the other with a hand scratching the back of his neck. They notice the stares directed towards them and share a shy, tiny smile with one another.
"But maybe this time, I don't mind taking a risk or two," you added as a sigh, a tiny sigh slipped past your lips, accompanied by a rosy pink that tinted your cheekbones. The edges of your lips curved up in the slightest to form a small and amused smile at the two.
"Taking a risk, huh?" Hongjoong mused, following your gaze to Yunho and Mingi. "Well, can't say I blame you. They do seem like decent fellas."
You hummed in agreement, watching as Yunho lifted a small boy onto his shoulders while Mingi dramatically acted out a story for the other children. Their laughter rang out across the town square.
"Decent indeed," you murmured. 
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the town, you found yourself drawn to where Yunho and Mingi were still entertaining the children. Their infectious laughter and easy smiles had captivated not just the little ones, but many of the adults as well. 
You approached just as Mingi was wrapping up an elaborate tale, complete with exaggerated gestures that had the kids in stitches. Yunho caught your eye and gave you a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.
"Alright kiddos, I think it's about time we let these fine gentlemen get some rest," you announced, chuckling at the chorus of disappointed groans. 
"But Y/N, can't they stay up a little longer?" one of the young girls pleaded, tugging on your sleeve.
"Now, now, don't you worry. I'm sure Mr. Yunho and Mr. Mingi will be happy to tell you more stories tomorrow," you said, ruffling the little girl's hair affectionately. "But for now, it's time for bed."
With a few more grumbles and pouts, the children reluctantly said their goodnights and scampered off to their homes. You turned to Yunho and Mingi, who were both looking a bit worn out but still smiling.
"You two certainly have a way with kids," you remarked. "I haven't seen them this excited in ages."
Yunho chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're great kids. Reminds me of home a bit."
"Got some little ones waiting for you back East?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
"Oh no," Yunho clarified quickly. "Just some younger cousins and neighbors' kids I used to look after sometimes. No little ones of my own."
You felt a small sense of relief at that, though you tried not to examine why too closely. "What about you, Mingi? Any family waiting on you?"
Mingi shook his head. "Nah, it's just been me and Yunho for a while now. We came out West to start fresh, make our own way."
"And instead you got kidnapped by a gang of outlaws," you said with a wry smile. "Not quite the fresh start you were hoping for, I imagine."
Yunho and Mingi exchanged a look, then Yunho spoke up. "You know, it hasn't been all bad. This place, these people... it's not what we expected, but there's something special here," Yunho said thoughtfully. "I can see why you care for them so much."
You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "They're good people who've been dealt a tough hand. They deserve better than what this world's given them."
"And you've made it your mission to provide that," Mingi observed. "It's admirable, really."
You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under their earnest gazes. "I do what I can. It's not always pretty or legal, but..."
"But it's necessary," Yunho finished for you. "We get it. Or at least, we're starting to."
A comfortable silence fell between the three of you as you watched the last rays of sunlight fade from the sky. You looked at them curiously. “How was your first night sleeping in town? The rooms above the saloon, okay?”
Mingi nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It was comfortable, thank you. Certainly beats sleeping on the hard ground or in the back of a wagon."
"Though I must admit, I did miss the stars," Yunho added with a chuckle. "There's something about sleeping under that big open sky that's hard to beat."
You couldn't help but smile at that. "I know what you mean. Even after all this time, I still prefer a bedroll under the stars to a proper bed most nights."
"Is that why you're out here instead of tucked away at your house?" Mingi asked, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.
You shrugged, feeling a bit exposed under their gazes. "Old habits die hard, I suppose. Plus, someone's got to keep an eye on things."
"Always the protector," Yunho murmured, his voice soft with admiration.
You felt a flush creep up your neck at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Clearing your throat, you gestured towards the saloon. "Well, it's getting late. We should probably turn in for the night."
As you started to walk away, Mingi called out, "Y/N, wait."
You turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 
Mingi and Yunho exchanged a look before Mingi continued, "We've been talking, and... well, we were wondering if maybe we could stick around for a while. Help out around town, you know?"
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your expression neutral. "Oh? And what brought this on? I thought you two were eager to start your new lives out West."
Yunho stepped forward, his expression earnest. "We were, but...this place, these people. It's opened our eyes to something we didn't expect to find out here. There's real community here, real purpose. And if we can help in some small way, well, that seems like a better use of our time than chasing after some vague dream of striking it rich."
You studied them both carefully, searching for any sign of deception. But all you saw was sincerity in their eyes. Still, you couldn't help but be cautious. "And what about your families back East? Your old lives? You'd be giving up a lot to throw your lot in with a bunch of outlaws."
Mingi shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "To be honest, there wasn't much holding us there anyway. That's why we came West in the first place. To find something more."
You studied them carefully, taking in their earnest expressions. Part of you wanted to believe them, to welcome them into the fold without hesitation. But years of living on the edge had taught you to be cautious, especially when it came to matters of the heart.
"And you think you've found that 'something more' here?" you asked, keeping your tone neutral. "With a gang of outlaws and a town full of misfits?"
Yunho's eyes softened as he gazed at you. "We've found more here in a few days than we did in years back East. There's a real sense of purpose, of family. It may not be conventional, but it feels right."
Mingi nodded in agreement. "Plus," he added with a playful smirk, "the company's not bad either."
You felt a blush creep up your neck at his words, but you pushed it down, maintaining your composure. "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, boys. But this isn't an easy life. It's dangerous, unpredictable. Are you sure you're ready for that?"
Yunho stepped closer, his eyes locked on yours. "You left the life of comfort, the life of a respected lady to be an outlaw. Surely there must've been moments where you didn't want this life, times where you were scared. But you didn't allow it to get in your way."
Mingi puffed his chest confidently and grinned. "If you could leave that life, then we can too."
"You're right," you said softly, meeting Yunho's intense gaze. "I did leave that life behind. And it wasn't easy. But I've never regretted it, not for a moment."
You paused, looking between Yunho and Mingi. Their earnest expressions tugged at something deep in your chest. 
"This life... it's not for everyone," you continued. "It's hard, and dangerous, and there are days when I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. But then I look at these people, this town we've built together and I know it's worth it."
Yunho stepped forward, his eyes shining with determination. "We want to be part of that. We want to help, in whatever way we can."
Mingi scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "I'm not as strong as you or the rest of your gang. I wouldn't survive as an outlaw. But I could use my skills as a businessman to help this town."
"And I, at the very least, know how to shoot," Yunho added with a determined tone to his voice. "So I can help protect the town when you and your gang aren't here."
You studied them both carefully, weighing their words against your own instincts. Finally, you nodded slowly.
"Okay," you said softly. "But if you're going to stay here, if you're going to become part of this life, I need your word. You'll put the needs of this community ahead of your own. You'll lay your life on the line to protect it, to protect the people who call it home."
Yunho stepped forward, his hand brushing against yours, a spark shooting up your arm at the touch. "I swear. Mingi and I, we've been looking for this place, this feeling... and we aren't letting it slip away."
Mingi licks his lips and looks up with wide, sincere eyes. "I swear as well. I'll protect this town with my last breath if I have to."
His sincerity surprises you. You stand tall and let them come a few steps closer before you move again. This time, you choose to face them and hold their attention. Mingi and Yunho both take deep breaths and widen their gaze as you slowly grab their wrist to check their pulses. The pound and heat rising off them surprises you a little. You smile at them in assurance as you reach to them again to brush a touch over each of their chests. It's hard not to feel the rise and fall as they take slow, deep breaths. "Welcome home."
"Thank you," Yunho says softly.
"I'll let the others know our guests have decided to settle in," you said, noting how the heat from their skin remains long after you move. "You both obviously need a permanent place to stay...unless..."
The slight inflection, the bit of heat in your voice, causes their pupils to dilate a bit.
"Yes?" Mingi murmurs.
"Unless...you'd be open to living with me?" Your heart is hammering. You've been so used to a rough kind of touch that anything a bit soft makes you almost...relaxed.
"Live," Yunho starts. "...with you?"
You can't hold their gaze anymore, eyes shyly trailing off as you laugh to ease the situation. It sounds breathy and unsure, like your body is too full of excitement to allow any of your normal confidence out.
"I mean if not, no big deal!" You assured, letting go of their arms and backing away to create space between you. "If you're happy with a room at the saloo‒"
"No!" Mingi grabs at your wrist, not roughly or meanly, but firmly enough that it gives your stomach a light flutter. His eyes are wide. "I don't. I'm not happy with the room. I like... I like what's on offer here."
You lick your dry bottom lip. "...Yeah?"
He's blushing. Blushing for you. For the first time, his gaze drifts down your front and back to your face. "...yeah. I'm more interested in the lady giving the offer, anyhow."
"Thank you, pretty boy," you manage a low rumble of a chuckle before turning to Yunho. "And you? What do you think, big boy?"
Yunho holds your gaze for a long moment, his dark eyes studying you carefully. He's silent for so long that you start to think he's not going to respond, when suddenly, a smile breaks across his face, warm and genuine and absolutely captivating.
"Yeah," he murmurs softly. "I'd be open to sharing that sort of life with you."
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The months began to pass slowly. At times it seemed endless but Hongjoong said that winter would surely roll around soon. At least, you hoped it would. Living in a desert was brutal and hard. But you and your gang made sure to stock up the necessities for the townsfolk in case they were to suffer a shortage. You didn't want anybody dying or suffering at the hand of a lack of resources. Not on your watch.
After striking another deal with the ranchers and the cattlemen to help feed the people in exchange for protection, you'd successfully purchased several extra wagons with livestock, food and medicine. In return, the merchants of the town helped repair damaged furniture or clothing from the group. Some made trinkets and food out of the donations from others in the nearby city.
Yunho sat on the steps of the general store while you stood by his side. It had been a particularly busy week getting the money. You'd raided an abandoned train car with bags full of bills and cash that prior bandits left behind. Most of the money was safe and stored up in the old mine, along with other valuables. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but it was worth it for those in need.
The more the town gained, the less they had to live from day to day. There were more houses being built and trade routes coming in to make the town richer in one way or another. It wasn't perfect but it was a step in the right direction. You'd done the impossible. You'd changed lives.
"You think we should go good at some point?" Yunho asked, rolling the brim of his hat back. "Become some lawmen for our people?"
"Maybe," you mused. "If that's what they need from us. Then yes, maybe we should give it a try."
He hummed. "Imagine if you and the others turned good."
"Hey, the guys would make excellent sheriffs and deputies," you nudged his shoulder with your arm as he laughed.
Mingi emerged from the building to join you two, taking his hat off and waving it to get the sweat off his brow. "Hotter than blazes."
"Stay cool, pretty boy," you patted his cheek. "Don't need you burning up."
"Too late," he countered. "I've been burning from you this whole time."
You snort. "Keep that talk for the bedroom, cowboy."
His smile stretched wider. "Deal."
As time passed, your relationships changed. While nothing official was announced, the whole town seemed to understand what was happening as Yunho and Mingi started to live with you in your homestead. They'd ask about the supplies, what the people needed, and they'd help bring in shipments whenever they could. They both quickly made friends among the townsfolk, and were eager to prove their worth. It made you feel a swell of pride and love to see them fitting in, belonging. They felt a sense of community and it was obvious in the way they held themselves, their posture loosened. The rigidity in their expressions became relaxed and they didn't have to glance at the exits to ensure an exit route. 
This was their home.
Both boys kept your bed nice and warm every night, and spent most days working in the fields, repairing buildings, fixing and patching clothes. Mingi was more adept with numbers and working out trade, Yunho was more in the line of law and justice.
Mingi would write a letter here and there to their extended families back east. Their families seemed thrilled they finally found stability in such a remote area, having lived an extravagant life before and leaving for the opportunity. They hadn't told them the truth, so they hadn't told them you were wanted, dangerous criminals. In their words, you were a town hero and were settling down from your rowdy youth. Which, from what you understood, wasn't too far off the truth, so you just played along. You tried to focus on the positives in life, not the negatives. It was healthy that way.
"What are you thinking about, love?" Yunho asked one night. His broad hands grabbed onto your thighs, gently pulling them apart.
Mingi rested on the pillow and bit his bottom lip as he watched you squirm at Yunho's soft teasing.
You swallow.
"Just...thinking," your face feels hot and you groan softly. "Keep...please..."
Yunho's large hands trailed along the inside of your bare thighs and goosebumps erupted along your skin. His fingers ran in lazy circles around the junction of where your thigh ended and where you really wanted him, tracing maddening paths closer, but not close enough. Your breath hitched as his fingers grazed the sensitive skin and a low, desperate whimper escaped.
Mingi shifted beside you, his large hand caressing the side of your head to watch the way you fell apart between them.
"Look at you," Yunho hums. "Aching for me. For us. Falling to pieces and I haven't even done anything yet."
You open your mouth to protest but it comes out as an undignified moan as his fingers make contact. Yunho chuckled and slipped the tip of a single finger past the tight, wet heat of your entrance, drawing another desperate sound from your lips as he pushed into you and gave you more.
“Think we can make you lose your mind, Y/N?” Yunho asked, a sly smirk playing on his lips.
You struggle to find an answer but all thought flees when another finger enters and scissors you open with a stretch. The way his thumb makes circles near your clit while he does it is agonizing.
You move your hips to get him deeper but he moves to keep the same pattern. Slow, soft strokes with his fingers, enough to drive you insane, and just far enough to deny your orgasm. It was hell, pure torture. Your legs quivered in effort, the build up within growing and growing.
"Y/N, can you be good for us and wait?" Mingi coos to your ear. "Let him enjoy you."
Yunho curls his fingers and begins a slow thrust into you. You're so turned on and desperate, it's almost embarrassing but fuck it, you love this. "So wet," Yunho hums to Mingi. "Just for us."
Mingi hums, hands coming to squeeze at your waist. "We love hearing your cute sounds," he rolls a nipple and presses kisses to your neck. "Let us hear you."
A whimper fell from your lips as your back arched, and you could see the way your stomach dipped at the action.
"I want to see you riding my fingers," Yunho says and grips at the underside of your ass, gently guiding your hips. "I know you've got a nice ass, let me see you use it."
"This isn't a good look for me," You shake your head a little bit, attempting to ignore the heat between your legs as Mingi trails kisses across your shoulder. "Like, not a good angle."
Mingi kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans as Yunho slowly guided you up and down onto his fingers and started a more feverish pace. The sounds were embarrassing. You whined, muffled into Mingi's mouth. He nipped at your lip and tongue, coaxing more from you as your hands clung to his hair.
"No one is here, love," Yunho mutters. "You can make all the pretty noises you want. It's just us here."
"Better hope no one...oh fuck, right there," you gasp.
They both grinned and Yunho stroked faster, your pants grew harder and more unhinged. You were desperate for more, legs quivering. He knew what he was doing with those long, pretty fingers of his, working into you and finding all the right places to drive you insane.
"So wet and ready," Yunho muttered, nipping your thigh and adding a third finger that had your mind swirling. "Do you feel good?"
"Yes!" You practically howled and gripped at Mingi. "Please..."
Mingi nuzzles your jaw and shushes you softly. "Tell him what you need, baby."
You rolled your hips to feel his fingers sink in deeper, each grind drawing out an embarrassing, desperate noise.
"So dirty, the way she's fucking herself," Mingi groans, low and hungry as he squeezes the curves of your waist.
Yunho spreads his fingers inside, opening you up, filling you with each thrust. His gaze is heated and full of dark amusement, taking in your writhing form.
You are so lost in the sensation, lost in the feeling of your blood flowing and moving with each steady thrust, but then he pulls out of you with a smirk and brings his fingers to his mouth with a long drag, licking his fingers clean.
"Can never let a meal go unfinished," he murmured and sank back on his elbows. "All of her." 
He nuzzled his nose against the sensitive skin of your cunt, letting the sensation send sparks up your body, before languidly licking at your folds, his tongue parting you. He moved your legs to rest on his shoulder, allowing better access, and went to work cleaning you. The sudden intensity made you yelp, and as his tongue lavished the folds you became even louder. He added his hands into play and spread you apart with two long fingers, sucking the juices leaking.
You almost feel bad when his face gets absolutely drenched when he really starts going to town, making filthy slurping and sucking sounds that drown out the squelch of his tongue sliding between you. When he closes his eyes in delight and growls with pleasure, you're amazed by how hard it all gets him.
He's literally making the filthiest sounds, getting your arousal and your pussy all over his mouth and jaw, and he loves every minute of it.
"That's so hot," Mingi groans, rubbing his cock. "Baby, can you suck me off while he eats you out? Pretty please?"
He doesn't have to beg much as you take his cock into your hands, pumping him a few times to hear the low groans he lets out. Leaning forward, you suck him deep. He slides down your throat to the base, gagging you. Mingi is just the right size that you can swallow him entirely to the base. His tip tickles the back of your throat and his thighs quiver with every long lick.
The moment his tip touches the back of your throat is the moment his thighs twitch, and you love it. It makes you hungrier.
The feel of his heavy dick, throbbing on your tongue is exhilarating. You never think you'll have enough of him, his thick length and the taste, god, the taste of him always has you wanting more. More.
Yunho can't get enough of the sounds and has a hand gripping the flesh of your hip with bruising pressure as he continues devouring your pussy, tasting every inch. You're squeezing his face with your legs, fucking into his mouth, and Mingi's hands are woven into the hair on the sides of your head and he's now thrusting up to fuck your throat as you go slack, and you could melt completely and be content forever right here between them.
Suddenly Mingi hisses out your name and fucks into the wet warmth of your mouth a few last times, until he can't hold back anymore. He makes a wrecked sound and holds the base of his cock as he's cumming in your mouth, hot and tangy spurts shooting down your throat. It's been a long week, and the sight and feel of him using you like his own personal little cum bucket is the best way to end it, and he moans out your name and sends a happy tingling spark of electricity down your spine. You'd live like this, choking on his cum if you could.
Once he's spent, Mingi helps your head up, his body glistening with sweat from the high, his stomach muscles clenching, and your legs shaking. Mingi has you look at him, taking the messy sheen around your lips and dragging his tongue up to lick into your mouth, cleaning you. It's a sloppy, wet, messy kiss that ends with your stomach tight with pleasure and your muscles aching, and Yunho still has his head between your legs and is making a mess and the most obscene, filthy, wet sounds. The sight of you and Mingi kissing turns him on something fierce, and suddenly, the need for his release overwhelms him.
"Fuck, baby. I need to be in you," Yunho sits upright and drags his mouth up along the underside of your calf, sinking his teeth into the plush of your calf muscles, leaving angry red bite marks in his wake.
"Please," is all you can manage. Your legs are burning from holding themselves apart for his assault, and he is so fucking good at everything he does.
Yunho wipes his glistening, pink stained mouth with a grin, "How do you want me?"
"O-on your back," your throat feels dry and rough.
Yunho licks the leftover taste of you, looking absolutely devious. "Oh? Got some ideas?"
You're already moving to sit atop his thighs, guiding his stiff length along the wet entrance and teasing your clit. He bites his bottom lip and lays back with an appreciative groan. You don't hesitate to take what you need from him, sinking down and pressing him all the way in. Both of you groan at the way his cock throbs and stretches you.
"Need to ride this big boy," you purred. You pressed your hands into his chest and started grinding yourself on him, slow and easy. "Oh fuck, it feels so good."
Mingi rubs his own length to hardness, biting his lower lip as you start a rhythmic movement. He swoops in and presses kisses all across your shoulder blades, muttering softly, his words swallowed by the creak of the bed and Yunho's little gasps, "Love you like this. Fucking yourself on his dick."
It's hot to watch, and it has the two of you swapping a lewd, messy kiss. Your pace is frantic, hands kneading at his toned stomach, desperate for purchase. Yunho grabs hold of your thighs, bouncing you along his thick length. The sounds that escape you are dirty. Wet noises fill the air as he fills you up repeatedly.
"I think Mingi wants to be in you too, love," Yunho's dark eyes glint, and he pants. His handsome face is sweaty, but he doesn't stop thrusting himself up, sinking deeper. "Wouldn't that be good?"
"Yes..." you moaned. You reached out and gripped your asscheeks, spreading yourself wider. "Want to feel you both."
Mingi felt up the soft curve of your ass, appreciating you. His touch trailed, callused hands along the path of your spine and back, gentle. You couldn't help the excited smile on your face as his touch roamed, eyes glowing with love.
Then, Yunho lifted his legs up and sat himself more properly on the bed to watch Mingi position himself. You stopped rolling your hips, waiting for him with baited breath.
Yunho bent his knees, holding you close to his chest so you could enjoy his heartbeat as Mingi began sliding himself in your puckered hole.
"Shit..." Mingi hissed between his teeth.
"Fuck, Mingi," you cursed and buried your face into Yunho's shoulder as he held you up easily by the thighs, angling himself as Mingi pushed all the way in with a shaky, labored breath. The both of you remained motionless, waiting to let your bodies adjust to being so impossibly full.
"Just breathe, sweetheart," Yunho's lips flutter to your shoulder with tenderness and he groans as you shift. The first little roll of his hips is so teasing it drives you mad. He slides slowly back and then fills you again, and then he's rocking up into you at a delicious pace, and it feels so good it's got you whimpering. Mingi matches Yunho's movements and sets the same pace, keeping up a delicious rhythm.
"So, so good. Good girl," Yunho whispers into your ear. His voice was guttural and rich, his breath hitting your hot skin and sending electric waves throughout your body. "Such a good girl taking both of us."
Both are filling you so nicely. Each thrust pushes the breath from your lungs, has you desperately seeking him out again. When they're fucking you like this, there is no reason in the world other than their cocks slamming into you over and over. It feels heavenly; the both of them inside you, together. They fuck you so deep and good it has you squirming, not caring about the way you're drooling and clenching around both lengths, enjoying the stretch. Your legs feel like jelly as their hands roam, playing and exploring, worshiping.
It feels like a blissful eternity filled with nothing but the feel of their skin against yours.
Mingi's tongue trails along the side of your neck, humming with affection and breathlessness. His hands clutch you tightly, possessive, while he's pounding up into you, fucking himself closer to completion. "Fuck, let's switch. My knees are...shit...going..."
Mingi is flipped onto the bed now and you're riding him, just as he had suggested earlier. A grin is etched on his lips, his expression one of lazy bliss as his thumbs caress the sides of your waist. "Ready?"
"Oh yes please," Yunho answers, raring to go. He enters slowly from behind, causing Mingi to grunt and cling to you tighter. "Damn, Mingi stretched you out nice and good baby. Love how she feels."
Your walls convulse and grip them, a loud cry spilling as Mingi moans at the feel of you and Yunho groans, clutching the soft flesh of your rear. Mingi leans back against the wooden headrest, allowing you to fall into him and grip his shoulders. You moan into his mouth, and the kisses become filthy. You're utterly trapped and full and loving the pressure.
They thrust in alternates. One pushes while the other pulls out, and soon you can barely differentiate between them. Just full and full and full. And then you're gasping and moaning and practically fucking screaming their names, not caring in the slightest about the world around you.
"You okay, baby?" Mingi presses kisses against your hairline, fingers smoothing away the droplets of sweat gathering at the nape of your neck. "You can take a break."
"Never...no...no breaks," you gasp out. "Feels so damn good."
Yunho watches intently with half-hooded eyes, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks to keep you apart and spread wide. The rhythm picks up faster, harder and it sends shock waves. Your toes curl. Mingi is sucking, laving, biting at every inch of skin he can get access to, leaving dark marks wherever his mouth touches, hands caressing your back with fondness.
It's so hot, everything from the wet sounds coming from below to the soft whimpers you can't help. It's messy and frenzied. Yunho is pounding into you while you roll your hips frantically against Mingi, feeling the hot pulsating sensations inside, desperate to have both inside as much and as deep as they can. It's electrifying, having Yunho pound up while Mingi pounds into you, a contrast between soft and deep, filling you up until all you can think of are their throbbing lengths and how much your body aches for them.
"Does Mingi feel good?" Yunho's lips nip at your shoulder blade, breath ghosting, tickling you. "His fat cock stuffed in you like that?"
"I‒" your mind is swimming, lips parted and dripping with the pleasure they're wrangling.
"You take us so well," Yunho groaned and increased the intensity, rocking himself into you. You can't speak coherently at the moment with their dicks in you, all you can do is whimper and mewl as you hold onto the last vestiges of your control. Their thrusts get you going, making your tummy light and buzzy. They fill you and the slide is slick with how soaked you are, making their thrusts all the more satisfying.
Their deep groans vibrate. Skin is on skin as their hips connect with a sinful smacking sound, and they fuck up into you and you're starting to shake and Mingi's warm arms and his smile, the way he sucks your bottom lip, his smell, Yunho's grunts, his low murmurs and the way his hands are so good at supporting you and taking care of you, how deep he can thrust—
The heat that washes over you as they cum together is sinfully exhilarating. Warm bursts fill you from both sides. Yunho burrows himself so deep, his hot cum gushing into you, and it fills you up until you're both dripping onto the sheets.
Your head is tucked in the crook of Mingi's throat, sucking on his collarbone when the feeling washes over. A lazy warmth crawls through your body and has you sagging, the pleasure having wrung your muscles dry. The wetness and fullness make the rest of your orgasm a happy mess, and you cry their names over and over, letting your muscles twitch and shiver, and the sensations are a gentle current rocking you and rippling through, washing all stress and thought from your mind.
This, right now, this is all that matters, you think. 
This was all that mattered. Them.
Mingi pulls out with a shaky, breathless exhale and cradles you against him, the cum oozing down and leaking onto the blankets. You've ruined yet another set of sheets.
Yunho gives your pouty lips a long, deep kiss as his body settles beside Mingi's and you. The taste and feel of the kiss is what grounds you. As your racing pulse finally starts to settle down, Yunho looks as if he wants to say something. His features are sharp in the shadows of the lamplight, the orange glow emphasizing the sharp angles of his face.
He's absolutely gorgeous. And so is Mingi, who brushes the sweat-dampened strands off your cheeks and presses sweet, sloppy little smooches and praise all over your temple and cheeks, his smile infectious. They're both so stunning. It leaves your heart beating faster. You want to cup and memorize the plush curves and contours of Mingi's and Yunho's cheeks.
You're a sight to behold, heaped in between both men. It should have felt embarrassing and disgusting to be a mess of a human, lying limply amongst the filth, but the warmth they share leaves you comfortably and fully content. Their hair is disheveled and their sweaty bodies glisten, and they have not a care in the world but to take care of you. Yunho and Mingi whisper words of admiration and praise as their callused, weathered palms and hands rub circles into your thighs. The throb of afterglow has you almost purring in relief.
The moment you try sitting up though, your legs shake and cramp up. You fall with an unceremonious huff back onto the sheets. Mingi laughs loudly and Yunho can't help but snort. He's instantly up to get a cup of water.
"Don't push yourself so hard, sweetheart. Let's get you washed," Mingi peppers little kisses along your cheekbones, voice a little rough as he reaches out and accepts the warm cloth and wash basin from Yunho, getting you cleaned.
"Fuck," your throat feels so parched, it comes out scratchy and hoarse.
Yunho comes in close, kissing you on the lips, chaste and affectionate, "C'mon. Time to rest."
Mingi chuckles in your ear and eases you backwards onto the pillows, getting rid of the dirtied and tousled blankets and stuffing fresh, clean sheets underneath your tired body. Mingi hums and carefully combs away the curls from your eyes, watching you as your vision blurs and softens, sinking into the soft sheets.
"What's got you thinkin' so hard?" Yunho whispered, his fingertips tracing patterns across the sensitive skin of your hip, bringing his other arm around to pull you close, foreheads resting together. "Hm?"
"Nothing," you nuzzle against the cool curve of his neck, burying your face where his pulse is hammering. It calms you down. Yunho's heartbeat. Mingi's light, soft breathing as he starts to drift asleep. Everything is blissful. "Just happy. Really happy. Just how perfect this moment feels."
"Me too," Yunho hums, his voice sleepy and soft and deep as he hugs your waist. Mingi is hugging your torso from behind and the warmth makes you giggle a little with how safe and cozy you feel in their embrace.
The peace lulls you to a deep sleep. You don't have anything else in this world other than them. Mingi, and Yunho, and everything that comes after this blissful peace. All is as it should be and the feeling is perfect.
"Me too," Mingi whispers. "This. You. Us," He nudges his face against the soft curve of your back. "Love this. Love you."
"Mm," you giggled as you kiss the corner of Yunho's mouth lazily. Your eyelids are getting so heavy that you cannot see. A content, comfortable lethargy overtakes your body. "Love you both."
“Love you too,” Yunho finishes softly, his voice barely a whisper as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
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itneverendshere · 20 hours
Note
saw that jj is readers neighbor. and i see rafe absolutely hating him, until he realizes that you take care of him like he’s your baby brother, especially when things get a little rough at his house
omg yesssss! it's kinda funny that he's beefing with a teenager. thank you for the request! 🩵🫂 alsojj never met milo before bc he only showed up after the kid was already sleeping, cause luke had a tendency to get rowdier at night 😣.
you're on your own kid - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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There’s no way in hell JJ Maybank is sitting on your couch while you’re cooking away. 
Rafe swears he’s lost his mind. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought when he was out on the boat earlier because what he’s seeing doesn’t make any sense.
There’s no way JJ is sitting there, his legs propped up on your coffee table like he owns the place. Like he belongs here. In your place. Your sister's place.
For a second, he thinks he’s gotta be dreaming. But nope, it’s real. The smell of whatever you’re cooking from the kitchen hits him in the face, and JJ’s laughter echoes through the living room.
This is your house, your space, and somehow JJ’s sitting there like he’s been here a thousand times before. He’s gotta say something.
Rafe clears his throat, trying to keep his voice normal but it comes out tight, strained. “What the hell’s Maybank doing here?”
You don’t even look up from the stove, just wave a hand in his direction, like it’s no big deal.
Like he’s no big deal. “Relax, baby. He’s just having dinner.”
“Dinner?” Rafe practically chokes on the word.
JJ catches the look on his face and smirks, leaning back further into the couch cushions.
“What, never seen a guy eat before, Cameron?”
Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Dinner? At your place? Since when are you and Maybank this close?”
His eyes narrow on JJ, sprawled out on the couch like he’s got nowhere better to be. The guy’s even wearing his boots, dirt probably all over your cushions, and Rafe’s practically grinding his teeth at the sight.
JJ just smirks, because of course he does. “Jealous or somethin’, Cameron? Didn’t think you’d care.”
But then you walk over with a plate and set it down in front of JJ, and Rafe watches in shock as you ruffle his hair, so casually it’s like second nature to you.
Like you’ve done it a hundred times before.
JJ’s eating like it’s the first meal he’s had in days, and Rafe’s brain is still trying to catch up with what the hell is happening here.
You and JJ? Since when? Rafe’s stomach twists at the thought, because why would you even care about a guy like JJ? 
The guy’s got that scruffy look, bruises on his knuckles and faint ones on his arms. Rafe’s seen it before, the evidence of fights and bad nights. He knows what goes on at JJ’s house. He’s heard the stories. The arguments that spill out onto the streets late at night, the way JJ disappears for a while and comes back worse than before.
And then it hits him.
You’re not just letting him crash here.
You’re taking care of him. Looking out for him in ways that nobody else does, making sure he doesn’t completely spiral with a father like Luke Maybank.
JJ speaks up, grinning with his mouth full of food. “Her food’s so good, you gotta try it.”
“I’m her boyfriend, you think I haven’t tried her cooking?”
He’s being ridiculous, knows he’s not really jealous of a seventeen-year-old. It’s not that he’s threatened by JJ—hell no. It’s more that...he doesn’t like sharing you. Even if it’s just dinner.
He’s proud of you, though. Always has been. That big heart of yours, helping out some kid who clearly needs it.
Rafe crosses his arms, leaning against the doorway. “Since when did my girl become a goddamn soup kitchen?” The words come out harsher than he means them to, but you just glance over your shoulder and roll your eyes.
You know him too well by now.
“Baby, it’s just dinner. JJ’s had a rough day.”
“Yeah, well, so have I,” Rafe mutters under his breath, but he doesn’t push it. He can’t really. 
He knows the guys has been through it, and yeah, his dad’s a piece of work. But that doesn’t make it easier to see him sitting here, all cozy in the life Rafe’s tried to build with you. Yeah, maybe you fucking spoiled him because know the mere thought of another guy being in your space makes his blood boil. 
JJ wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “Chill, Cameron. You’re acting like I’m movin’ in or something.”
He remembers being that kid—lost, angry, with no place to feel safe. JJ might be annoying as fuck, a walking nightmare to be around, but Rafe can’t hate him for that. Not really.
“Yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable,” Rafe mutters. He looks at you, softening. “You’ve got a heart too big for your own good, y'know that?”
“I thought you loved that about me?” You tease, turning back to the stove.
“’Course I do.” Rafe crosses the room, sitting on the arm of the couch, close enough to you but still keeping an eye on JJ. He watches as you stir something on the stove, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth despite everything. Yeah, he gets annoyed, but fuck if he doesn’t love you for exactly this. You just have a way of making people feel safe, even the ones that don’t deserve it—or maybe need it most.
JJ leans back, letting out a satisfied groan. "God, that was good. She ever cook like this for you, Cameron?"
Rafe shoots him a look, eyebrows raised. "Yeah, maybe when you’re not eating all my food."
JJ just laughs, completely unfazed. “You’re lucky, man.”
Rafe doesn't answer, just stares at him, half of him wanting to tell him to get out and the other half knowing how good it must feel for the kid to have a moment where he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Rafe’s been there—different situation, same lost feeling. He looks at you again, knowing it’s you that pulled him out of that place. And now here you are, doing the same thing for JJ.
With a sigh, he slides off the couch and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. “You know you’re too good for him, right?”
You laugh, leaning back into him. “For him? Or for you?”
Rafe presses a kiss to your shoulder, smiling despite himself. “Both. Definitely both.”
His lips linger there for another second before JJ’s speaking again, “Alright, y’all don’t have to be disgusting while I’m sitting here trying to digest. Seriously, have some respect. I’m a guest.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he can’t help but laugh under his breath, his forehead dropping against your back. “You gotta be kidding me.” He sighs dramatically, loosening his grip on you and stepping back, but he’s still got that smirk. “You hear that, baby? We’re offending the guest. Can’t have that.”
JJ rolls his eyes so hard Rafe’s sure he’s gonna get stuck that way. “Yeah, you two keep it up, and I’m gonna lose this amazing meal you just made. Not trying to see all that lovey-dovey shit.”
Rafe leans against the counter, arms crossed, shaking his head. “You know, most people would be grateful for a free dinner.”
You toss a dish towel at JJ, which he dodges with a snicker. “You’re welcome to leave, you know.”
“Nah, nah,” JJ says quickly, stuffing the bread in his mouth. “I’m good right here.”  He stretches out again, clearly getting way too comfortable. “But if y’all could just tone down the romance while I’m around, that’d be great.”
Rafe’s still grinning, even though part of him wants to wipe that smirk right off JJ’s face. “You jealous, Maybank?”
JJ gives an exaggerated shrug. “Nah. I got my priorities straight.”
“Yeah? Like what? Getting on my last fucking nerve?” Rafe shoots back.
JJ lifts his hands in surrender, still grinning like a kid who knows exactly how make him lose his temper. “Hey, I’m just saying. Don’t go making me regret this free meal, alright?”
He glances over at you, and you’re shaking your head, smiling like this whole thing is the most entertaining show you’ve seen all week.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” Rafe mutters, still eyeing JJ. “This is a one-time thing.”
JJ chuckles, unfazed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just remember, I’m your girl’s favorite.” He flashes you a wink, and Rafe’s this close to tossing the bread basket at his head and tossing him out on the street.
JJ’s annoying, no doubt, but he understand, or at least he's trying to, that you’re doing it for a reason—helping the kid out, making sure he’s got a safe place for at least one night. And no matter how much he pisses him off, Rafe respects that. For your sake.
“You keep running your mouth and you’re both sleeping porch.”
Rafe turns to you, offended, “The fuck did I do?”
“You know exactly what you did,” you say, shaking your head. “Always making things competitive.”
Rafe scoffs, standing a little straighter.
“Competitive? Baby, I’m just protecting what’s mine.” He throws a glance at JJ, who’s still lounging on the couch like he owns the place.
“Man, protectin’ what?” JJ pipes up, laughing through his words. “I’m just here for the food and the show.” He gestures between the two of you. “Y’all could make a fortune if you charged admission. People love drama.”
Rafe rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky they’re not charging you rent at this point.”
He’s about to tell him to shove off the couch and leave, but the front door swings open. Monica walks in arms full of grocery bags. Little Milo is trailing behind her, clutching a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other. The moment he sees Rafe, his face lights up.
“Uncle Rafey!” Milo yells, charging toward him with all the energy of a four-year-old hyped up on apple juice.
He bends down and scoops Milo up, setting him on his hip. “Hey kid. What’s up?”
Milo grins and holds up his juice box. “I got juice!”
Rafe chuckles, “Juice, huh? Sounds like a big day.”
Meanwhile, Monica’s busy setting the groceries on the counter, glancing at JJ sprawled out on the couch. She shoots Rafe a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Looks like we have an extra child in the house today.”
JJ, clearly not catching the jab, raises a hand. “Hey, Monica. I’m just keeping the couch warm.”
Milo tugs on Rafe’s shirt, completely oblivious to the grown-up talk. “Uncle Rafe, can I have a cookie?”
“Maybe after dinner, bud,” Rafe says, setting him down gently. “Go help your mom, okay?”
Milo pouts for a second but quickly gets distracted by the sight of JJ. He stares at him curiously, tilting his head. “Who’s that?”
JJ leans over the back of the couch, grinning. “I’m JJ. You can call me… your favorite new friend.”
Milo looks at him like he’s deciding if JJ is cool or just weird. After a second, he grins back. “Okay, JJ. Can I sit with you?”
“Sure, kid. Hop on up.”
Rafe watches as Milo clambers onto the couch next to JJ, giggling when JJ pretends to steal his dinosaur. It’s almost funny—if he wasn’t so good at making himself at home.
Monica, catching the scene, sighs and shakes her head. “Great, now he’s corrupted Milo.”
Rafe crosses his arms, unable to suppress a smirk. “He’s already got enough bad influences in his life.”
She raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yeah, starting with you.”
Rafe raises his hands in surrender, laughing. “Fair enough.”
You’re leaning against the counter, watching the whole scene unfold, and suddenly, it just hits you.
Rafe with Milo, the way he softens when your nephew runs up to him, lifting him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Milo’s giggles fill the room and then there’s Monica, half-smiling at Rafe’s attempts to wrangle Milo, even with JJ sprawled out on the couch, egging the kid on.
Your heart feels so full, you almost can’t stand it. It’s one of those moments where everything just… clicks. You try to keep it together, but there’s this warm feeling in your chest, and you blink back the unexpected tears. How could you feel anything but love for all of them in this moment? 
Rafe catches you staring, his eyes softening when he sees the look on your face. He raises an eyebrow, but he’s already smiling at you, “What’s that look for?”
You shake your head, grinning despite the lump in your throat. “Nothing. Just... you guys. It’s... a lot.”
JJ, ever the clown, groans from the couch, “Oh God, please don’t get all mushy now."
But you can’t help it. You step closer to Rafe, wrapping your arms around his waist, laying your head against his chest. “I just love you. All of you.”
Rafe chuckles softly, kissing the top of your head. “Love you too.”
Monica glances over with a knowing look, shaking her head. “Alright, enough of this sentimental stuff. You’re gonna make me cry, and I just got home.”
You stay wrapped in Rafe’s arms for a moment, just soaking in the warmth around you. Monica’s pulling plates from the cabinet, setting them on the table with her usual no-nonsense efficiency. JJ’s somehow got Milo giggling uncontrollably, making goofy faces and pretending to steal his dinosaur every few seconds. The kid’s losing it, practically bouncing off the couch in fits of laughter.
Rafe leans down, his lips close to your ear. “You’re okay?” he murmurs against your hair.
You smile, nodding against his chest. “Yeah. Better than good, actually.”
He pulls back slightly to look at you, his blue eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read every thought behind it. “You sure? You looked like you were about to cry a second ago.”
You laugh a little, wiping under your eye, even though the tears never really fell. “It’s just... this. All of this. It’s perfect, you know? I don’t know. It feels like family.”
“You really think so?” Rafe asks quietly.
You nod, feeling that same warmth flood your chest again. “Yeah, I do. I love it. I love us.”
He smiles, a little crooked but real, the kind of smile you don’t see too often, but when you do, it hits you in the heart. “I love us too.”
For a second, the noise around you fades, and it’s just you and Rafe, holding onto each other like you’re the only two people in the room.
Then, predictably, JJ ruins it. “Hey, lovebirds! Save that for later. You’re killing Milo’s vibe.”
You both turn to see JJ standing with his hands on his hips, looking dramatic as ever. Milo’s grinning, clutching his dinosaur to his chest like it’s his new best friend. 
“Yeah, stop kissin'!” Milo chimes in, giggling.
You rolls your eyes but pull away from Rafe with a chuckle. “Alright, alright. No more kissing.”
Monica smirks as she finishes setting the last plate. “Don’t worry, Milo. They’ll be gross later when you’re in bed.”
Rafe gives your sister a mock glare. “You’re hilarious.”
She pats him on the back, grinning. “It’s what I’m here for.”
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all3-stxr · 15 hours
Text
i like the way you kiss me
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you and satoru were both teacher at jujutsu tech. as always, he pestered you just as much as he did with nanami and yaga. now, he was sitting on your desk of the empty classroom as you dusted off the chalkboard, pouting about the higher ups.
"i just. . . i don't get it. how they don't give a damn about those kids. i think i do a good job about caring, right?"
"you do really well, satoru." you ruffle his hair before returning back to cleaning the chalkboard.
that makes his cheeks flush a little red, not used to such praise. well, sure, he's praised by so many people, but from you, it just felt. . . different.
he cleared his throat before changing the subject. "so. . . wanna go out and get dinner? or is it too early for all of that?"
you hum quietly. "well, actually, i've been meaning to talk to you about something."
as you turn to face him, his blue eyes met yours as he tilted his head to the side. this was something he wasn't prepared for, but he could deal with it. "yeah? what's up?"
you were only able to meet his eyes directly since he was hunched over on your desk (thank god for that). "i want you to leave jujutsu."
he blinked. did he hear that right? sure, the idea of leaving did come across his mind every now and then, but he could never bring himself to do it. he opened his mouth to protest but hesitated before saying anything. ". . . why?"
you glance away for a moment. "they're just using you."
he stared at you for a moment. he knew you were right. hell, everyone knew it - he hated it just as much as you did - but there was no other option. he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know. . . i know they are. but i can't just leave. not now. i have responsibilities, there's so much more that i have to do that i can't just leave."
you gently cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at you, despite his blindfold being on and you didn't know where his eyes were trained. "but you deserve more than that."
he didn't hesitate to lean into your hands, letting out a shaky breath. he wished he could leave. but who was going to take his place? he was the strongest for a reason. and what happens to his students when he leaves? megumi? itadori stuck with sukuna? he would never stop blaming himself if something or someone got hurt after he left. "i- i know but- i can't."
"if you wont leave, then promise me this-"
he didn't hesitate to nod, eyes trained on you as he listened to each and every word you had to say.
"-always come back safe to me."
he was a bit taken aback by this. he was strong enough to take on anything, that was what he was made for, right? he didn't doubt his abilities at all, but if it would ease her anxiety and make her happy, then he'd do it. "i promise."
your eyes narrow, taking in his expression with great scrutiny, making sure he wasn't lying. you gently lift his blind fold onto his forehead, finally meeting his beautiful blue orbs (he knew you loved just looking at them).
"thank you, 'toru." you say softly.
his ears grew a little pink at that. "of course." he muttered quietly.
you couldn't help but laugh a little at how shy he seemed for a moment. "dork."
"but i'm your dork, right?" he smirked down at you, looking at you with those bright, adoring eyes.
you roll your eyes and tug the blindfold back down. "yes. my dork."
he was a bit surprised by you tugging down the blindfold but could only smile like an idiot. that's all he was. he was just a big idiot when it came to you. "good. all yours~" he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
you hum. "you know, i never see you kissing nanami's forehead. . ."
he snorted. "i never kiss anyone's forehead. except for yours." he hummed, pressing another kiss to your forehead, then to your nose. he really was just trying to kiss any part of you he could.
"alright, lover boy, that's enough." you smile and push him away gently.
he pouts and tugs you back against his chest. "come on, just one more. please?"
you shake your head which causes him to whine and pull you closer, your thigh sliding between his and you feel him. all of him.
"i need you." he murmured into your ear.
now, this wasn't the first time you two have gotten a little handsy. working as a sorcerer, you don't have much time for relationships, but that doesn't mean you can just stop being horny. so, just as satoru was your cure for that, you were his. and you couldn't just leave him like this.
"i didn't even do anything, satoru-!" you're cut off by him grinding his hips down against your thigh and you feel that familiar heat pool in your stomach.
"don't need to baby, you're just so fuckin' pretty."
you have to bite back a groan at the sultry hint in his voice, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear. "please, angel."
you push him back against the chair, making him sit, easily sliding off his belt like it was an everyday occurrence (which it practically was from how good this man felt and sounded while he was balls deep inside of you).
his eyes are trained on you and he slides off his blindfold once more so you can look into his eyes. but what he wasn't expecting was for you to get down on your knees after sliding down his boxers to his ankles, and begin pressing kisses down the shaft of his pretty pink cock.
he has to stop the moan from escaping his lips just at mere kisses, and a large hand clamps over his mouth as your tongue swirls over his flushed tip, leaking with precum.
"so wet already." you snicker, but before you can utter out another word he bucks his hips up into your face, dick sliding down the slippery hole of your throat, making him groan loudly. "mm, i'm sorry. so so so sorry, baby. please- ngh- forgive me." he babbled out, hand coming down to gently stroke your hair as you tried to suppress your gag reflex from acting up.
you can only hum, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine as you began to suck him off, hands holding down his toned thighs to stop him from fucking your throat until you couldn't breathe.
his hand bundled up your hair to give him some sort of leverage so he could try (and fail) to hold himself together. that's when his eyes flicker over to the open door and he almost cums right there on the spot - you fucking knew.
"y/n, the door-" his voice is muffled by his hand, and the look in his eyes shows he's about to lose it. if nanami or yaga, or even one of the kids walked in right now-
you slowly slide him out of your mouth, swallowing his slick as you respond. "then be a good boy and be quiet, sweetheart."
he whines at your words. you knew how vocal he could be, especially when you sucked him off - nothing but loud groans and praises, practically begging for you to let him cum in your pussy next or he "might just die."
for someone known as the strongest, he didn't act like it the second his dick came into the picture.
he watches intently as your candied lips slide over his length, cheeks hollowed out, making room for him just because he got hard after kissing your face.
he's entranced by the way only his tip stays in your mouth when you pull up, then sink back down around him in a heap, and he's biting his shirt just to shut himself up (not that it was doing him any favors). you could still hear his pretty groans as his head rolls back, hips faintly stuttering up into your mouth as he tried to close that space and feel your tight little throat around him again.
"fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his hand begins to guide you, pushing you down and slowly lifting you back up easily. he can feel your throat spasming every time you take him in fully, little white hairs tickling your nose before you're back up to just his tip.
you blink up at him and god is this view ethereal. brows knit together, long white lashes fluttering ever so slightly at each thrust, his uniform wettened by his mouth as he moans into it, saying your name like some sort of prayer. you feel just how wet your panties are, and you know you're gonna ask those long fingers to do you a favor later.
"'m gonna cum," the shirt falls from his mouth as he warns you, but you just hum some more, and you know that's what set him off as he lets out the most pornographic moan and keeps you at your pace to ride off his orgasm, and you're sure every person in the school could hear it. creamy white liquid just filling your throat and no matter how many times you swallow, it just keeps coming.
and your thoughts are only confirmed when nanami's voice comes from down the hallway and you almost choke on his load. "gojo?"
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erinwantstowrite · 2 days
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Everything is all fun and games posting about LoF on TikTok until someone drops this on me
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I THINK ABOUT BABY PETER AND HIS VISION EVERYDAY…
I get videos of babies seeing their parents clearly for the first time and I think. Does Peter even remember that moment if it did happen.
Like yeah the memory of what someone looks like fades over time that’s just how memory works but IF HE DIDNFT KNOW WHAJT THEYI LOOKED LIKEJ PROPERLY IN THE FIRST PLACE………………………
Imagining itsybitsy Peter being like oh yeah blurry blob specifically like that oh yeah dad shaped 100% then he’s suddenly crystal clear and for a bit it’s like who the hell??? Cause that’s not blurry blob but everything else is correct ohh yeah that is for sure dad THATS HIS DADDDD HIS DAD.
Running away and hiding in your brain wrinkles
HEHEEEEE i was so hoping someone would comment this one day (⁠^⁠∇⁠^⁠)⁠ノ⁠♪ yeah it's a big part that Peter didn't have his glasses until his teachers at preschool noticed he was having a hard time seeing past the distance his hands reach. he got his glasses after his parents died... (it was Ben and May who he saw clearly for the first time) and then at some point, Peter started reacting poorly to seeing photos of his parents around Ben and May's house
It was always their intention to put the photos back up when Peter was older and more calm, less filled with anger about them being gone. But time and circumstances meant that they never got the chance. So all of this, combined with childhood memory loss (as in, the older you get, the harder it is to remember when you were really little), Peter didn't get to commit their faces to memory.
But that IS why Peter recognizes his dad's voice in the Itsy Bitsy au
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there's also a very good reason that Peter is filled with anger about them being gone, but I can't tell y'all yet 😞 it's gonna hurt though :3
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yelenasdiary · 3 days
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Hi how about an enemy to lovers with Yelena were in their last mission they somehow get handcuffed to each other and until the team can get them off they are off duty and having to deal with eachother (their feelings)
Cuffin' Season
Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader
Summary: You and Yelena find yourselves in a situation neither of you want to be in
Angst, Fluff
Warnings: Language Warning | 1.8K
AC: Thank you for sending this! Sorry it took so long; please ignore the cringe title lmao! I hope you enjoy it! x
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You groaned, throwing your head back against the wall. Yelena sighed heavily, for the last 20 minutes or so, the two of you have been trying to escape a from each other. Yelena still trying to wrap her head around how on earth the target tricked you both and was able to keep you both hostage, not the classic tried to a chair with duct tape across your lips. No, this was the worst kind of being kept hostage. 
“Stop tugging!” Yelena said, rolling her eyes. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, does that hurt? Is being tugged by the fucking wrist hurt the tough Russian spy?” You snapped in frustration. “You know, if it wasn’t for Natasha needing Kate, she’d be the one hand cuffed to you and I wouldn’t be sitting here wishing THEY WOULD KILL ME ALREADY!” You added, yelling out to your kidnappers. 
“They’re not going to kill us” Yelena said. 
“I wish they would!” 
“Alright, what the hell is your problem?” Yelena snapped, looking to you. “What do you mean? You’re the one with the problem” you argued. 
Yelena cocked a brow, “you think I’m the one with the problem? You’ve never liked me; you can’t even stand to be in the same room with me” she replied watching you try to squeeze your hand out of the handcuff. “Nope, that’s all you, spy! I’ve never been nothing by nice to you, but I guess you’re too high and mighty to see that and now thanks to you, we’re trapped and I’m probably going to die handcuffed to you”
“Thanks to me?” Yelena frowned, “do you hear yourself right now? You’re the one the fell for the damn trap. I followed you to stop you, don’t you remember that? Probably not because you can’t do any wrong!” She added causing you to stop your actions and look at her with anger in your eyes. 
“You want to do this now? Right now? Instead of trying to escape you want to play the damn blame game?!” 
“If the shoe fits, why not” Yelena spat. 
“Agh! You’re so unbearable! I can’t believe you think this is my fault! You’re the one who told me to go ahead, it’s like you knew this was going to happen” you argued. 
“I was talking to Kate! I had to wait for you to shut your pipe hole for a second so she could finish her sentence, I said “go ahead, Kate” Yelena corrected you, your mind having a small flash back to that moment. You were so annoyed that you had been paired with the one person who hated you the most that you when you heard her say ‘go ahead’ you took it as her giving you instructions. 
Silence fell, you rolled your eyes once more at the blonde before trying yet another pointless attempt to set yourself free. “Seriously, stop tugging!” Yelena tugged her left wrist, pulling your right wrist to her. 
“Ouch!” You groaned at the pain, before tugging back. Yelena took a deep breath to keep herself from exploding over your childlike behavior, the two of you hated being cuffed together, if anything, this was the most that the two of you had ever spoken to one another. When you first met Yelena, she gave you a similar vibe that Natasha did when you first met her, so you just assumed it would be a little bit of work to break the widow and the two of you would get along after but no, not Yelena. You’ve been on two other missions with her in the past, both missions went quick and rather smoothly but again, such little conversation was ever exchanged between you both. 
Outside of work, Yelena simply made it obvious to you that she wasn’t a fan of you. So naturally, you stopped trying to win the assassin over and found yourself giving her the same cold vibe she would give you. It made things harder given that you were both great friends of Kate’s and the poor archer hated seeing her two closest friends hating one another. But what you didn’t know was the little secret that Yelena had let slip to Kate one night after a few too many shots of Vodka. 
As time passed, you and Yelena sat in silence. Both of you quietly tried to work out a plan to get out of the situation you were in but neither of you wanted to bring your ideas to the table first. “If we work together, we can get out of here” Yelena says with a light sigh, breaking the silence. 
“What do you think I’ve tried to do this entire mission?” You replied, not trying to snap back at her but her comment slightly annoyed you. “You just hate working with me” you added. 
Yelena looked over at you, “how about once we get out of here, we never have to work together again” she says in a calm tone. 
“Perfect! Can’t wait” you gave her a fake smile before her eyes quickly turned to the banging sound of guns outside the door. The two of you instantly went into fight or flight, just waiting for whatever was going to happen come through that door. 
You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Natasha standing in the doorway with a cocked brow, Kate standing slightly behind her. “Well, don’t you two look cozy” Nat commented, earning herself a death stare from her sister. “Have you got the keys?” You asked, ignoring the comment from the older widow. 
“I’ll go find them” you heard Kate say before rushing off. Natasha stood still with a growing smirk as she looked at the two of you, “which one of you wants to tell me how this happened?” She asked before letting out a chuckle. 
“Shut up!” Yelena spat. 
----
Back at the compound, free from being cuffed to Yelena, you just sat down on the edge of your bed, letting out a heavy sigh as you rubbed the handcuff markings on your wrist. Your mind replaying everything that had happened on the mission, trying to work out if you were the one that put you and Yelena in that situation or if it was just a case of bad lucky. Did you the two of you let your hatred for one another get in the way of a mission or was it something much more than that? These thoughts circled your mind until you heard a knock at your bedroom door. 
You opened it only to see Yelena standing there, “can I help you?” You asked kindly although Yelena was the last person you wanted to see right now. 
“Can I come in?” She asked taking you by surprise. You nodded and opened the door wider for her to enter. She walked in and noticed the little things about your room layout, where your perfume sat on a shelf, how neatly your close were hanging in your opened closet, your favorite movie as a poster on one of the walls, all these little things she smiled softly to herself about. 
“If you’re come to give me a lecture about the mission, I won’t want to hear it” you said as you wandered over to your dresser to apply some cream to your hands and wrists. Yelena turned around to face you, “I didn’t come here to lecture you. I came here to tell you that I don’t hate you” she replied. You frowned slightly as you looked back at her, “you don’t?” You questioned. 
Yelena shook her head, “I’ve never hated you” 
“T-then why you act like you do?” 
Yelena took a deep breath and took a seat at the end of your bed, placing her hands in her lap before she looked up at you once more. “I told Kate what happened today, and she said it would be best if I just come clean to you” she started. 
“Clean to me?” You questioned. 
“I don’t hate you, in fact, it’s the opposite to hate” 
Her reply only added to your confusion, “so you what? Dislike me? Or is it you can tolerate me?” You asked. It was your words that quickly told Yelena that this wasn’t going how she thought it would and quickly tried to fix it before this would escalate into yet another argument. 
“Try, I have feelings for you” she replied, her eyes slightly dropping to your feet. Her confession took you back, not once did you ever think that Yelena’s behavior towards you was because she had possible feelings for you. “I know it’s probably not what you expected but putting Kate’s advice aside for a moment, after today and the way we talked to one another wasn’t okay. I didn’t know that’s how you felt until today. I didn’t think that I was giving you the impression that I hated you” she paused as you slowly rubbed the cream into your skin while listening to her continue. 
“I’ve never looked at somebody and have my heart skip a beat, I’ve never heard somebody talk to me and wish they would never stop, I’ve never had somebody smile at me and that make me nervous. I guess I was so cold to you because I didn’t know how to be around you so I guess I thought that if I was distant with you that I wouldn’t feel these things, but I spoke to Kate and she told me that what I feel is okay” she went on. 
You wandered over to her and sat beside her, “well, I can say I’m so glad that you came to me. I thought I was going mad” you looked to her, “you’re not the only one who has feelings in this” you added.
Yelena’s eyes lit up, “do you mean y-“ 
You nodded before she could finish her question, “I don’t like the saying ‘if they’re mean to you it’s because they like you’ but I guess it has some kind of truth” you added, making you both chuckle. Gently, you took Yelena’s left hand into yours, “we don’t have to act on these feelings if you don’t want too or not ready, I don’t ever want to push you” you assured her. 
“Being handcuffed to you has been the highlight of my week, I would like to explore these feelings more, but it needs to be slowly” Yelena replies. You couldn’t help but smile softly at her, “we have all the time in the world, there is no need to rush anything”
You noticed Yelena blush a little at your words and you swore, if you could, you’d kiss her right then and there but you wanted this to work and right now, you were finally able to see a side of Yelena you wish you saw sooner.
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andy-wm · 2 days
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AYS Behind the scenes: behind the paywall
Now that the Disney+ episodes are complete (sob), my attention is firmly fixed on my mailbox as I wait impatiently for the AYS photobook and QR code.
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I was always going to buy the Jikook photobook, even though I doubt there will be much we haven't already seen in the episodes. But the inclusion of the QR code was the clincher.
I must admit, Hybe locking up the behind the scenes for AYS was not on my bingo sheet.
Making behind/additional clips available on Bangtan TV would have been more in line with their regular MO. We don't generally have to pay for what really amounts to outtakes.
Okay, yes, we have to pay for behind cuts of Run BTS, but the actual episodes are free. With everything else the behind clips are included when you buy the series (I'm thinking of BV, ITS, and concert boxed sets).
In fact I can't think of any other time a behind/ bonus clip hasn't been available to fans who pay for the main content.
Maybe it is because Hybe was only contracted to deliver 8 episodes to Disney+ and the price was fixed. Maybe they saw an easy way to make the series more profitable.
We know they will take any opportunity to lighten our wallets.
But I think there's more to it
Let's talk business:
If Hybe wanted to make money from this, having the sale point directly on Weverse would make more sense. That way anyone could buy it any time without having to buy the photobook as well. Even if they charged just a few $$ for these extra clips, the return could be substantial over time. Long tail products can be very lucrative and Hybe clearly knows this - they have heaps of old footage for sale on Weverse. Since they're hosting the content already, it makes sense to keep that 'buy now' button active and let the dollars trickle in.
So why reduce the potential pool of buyers? Why limit this to those who buy the photobook??
Well, let's consider who is going to buy the photobook?
Who is going to fork out US$28 plus postage for a keepsake of these two on their third honeymoon?
I doubt OT7 ARMYs would buy it. Even ARMYs who bias JM or JK - if they aren't part of the SGMB they probably don't want it either.
Solos sure as hell don't want it - they are probably wishing the whole thing never happened... sucks to be them haha
Who really wants to see these two living their best lives together?
We do!
And by we, I mean Jikook supporters.
People who want to see more of this:
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and this
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And this
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We are the people who will buy this photobook (and probably never look at it more than once, let's be honest)
But let's get back to the topic at hand....
The photobook/behind combo seems like a chicken/egg situation to me.
Which came first - as a concept - the photobook or the behind clips?
Did they decide to offer a photobook, and then think of adding the extra footage to make it more appealing?
Or vice versa?
Did they decide to make the behind clips, and think of the photobook afterwards?
Hard to say, since behind clips have always been a thing and recently Hybe is putting out photobooks for everything.
But I think I have a fair idea
Consider the price point for this photobook - it's the same price as most of the others produced recently: +-US$28.
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AYS photobook & behind is the same price as the Photo-Folios, Tae's Type 1 (magazine version) photobook, and the Beyond The Stage photobook
🗣 So they aren't charging any extra for the behind footage?
No, they aren't. They're basically giving it to the buyers of the photobook as a gift.
🗣 Could they be making money off it?
Yes, the could.
Long tail, remember?
Looking at the profit-making potential, it makes WAY more sense for Hybe to offer the behind footage on Weverse for a few meagre dollars and... wait for their ship to come in...
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See what I did there? hahahhaha (laughing by myself)
They really aren't making any money off this!
how unlike Hybe...
So why go to the effort of setting up QR codes and putting it behind a paywall? It costs money to host content this way. They are in fact SPENDING money to bring us this footage.
Not only through the hosting costs there are also production costs to consider.
Wouldn't it make more sense to just freely share it with ARMY via Bangtan TV? Or not release it at all?
Yes, it would...
So there's only one logical answer...
Hybe has chosen to make the content available - but also make it just that little bit more difficult to access.
This whole exercise seems to be about releasing additional footage without releasing it to the general public. It's being shared specifically with those of us who support them.
Does that mean we'll see slightly more personal content?
Maybe it's a little more revealing of their undeniable bond and their hot chemistry...?
Whatever they contain, these behind clips are definitely for a limited audience - and purposefully so.
The only reason for it, that I can think of, is to safeguard Jimin and Jungkook from too much scrutiny and criticism - from within the fandom (unfortunately) and outside of it.
We will find out in a few days I guess.
In the meantime, I'm camped out by my mailbox
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gomu-fer · 18 hours
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The phrase “silence is louder than words” never meant anything to Sanji
Until now
You have been quiet. Terribly so. For the last 20 minutes and it’s driving him insane. Somehow he has missed you during this time, even if you’re sitting just a couple steps away
Your eyes are glued to your notebook, a steady hand that clenches at the poor pencil glides thorough the page. Usually, you enjoy this activity, a twinkle in your eye that hangs brightly illuminating the room. But now… you wear a pout, a scowl, eyebrows looking down in anger. Steam almost comes out your ears
You’re upset
I mean, clearly, but Sanji still hasn’t build up the courage to ask what’s going on. Because he knows the answer
When you started dating the cook, you knew his tendencies with women wouldn’t just disappear. But it didn’t made you happy either
You had talked about his behavior several times, asking for nothing more than respect which is the bare minimum really. Sanji had dramatically stated that he had no eyes for no other than his sweet angel which, was true in a way
So when you turned around in the market and spotted him salivating at a belly dancer that just happened to be nearby you weren’t surprised
But you also weren’t thrilled
Sanji adores you. You’re his light, his angel, his rock, his goddess, his life . He would do anything for you, hell, he’ll bring down the stars above if you just asked. But who wouldn’t feel insecure after their partner looks at another woman like that?
He hates himself for it, he’ll allow you to spit and step on him like gum if that’s what grant him your forgiveness. He needs to change. He knows it, he will do it a thousand times over, just for you
Slowly, he makes his way to sit in front of you, your movements come to a halt as you heard him plop down onto the chair, but you don’t spare him a glance
Ouch
“Hi” his voice comes out strained, frightened
You remain frozen, thinking on what to do… lash out? Curse at him? Stay quiet for another hour? Leave?
You just answer
“Hi”
A shiver runs down Sanji’s spine at your answer, the sound of your voice making him giddy, oh how has he missed you
“You’re mad”
“How observant”
“At me”
“Clearly”- finally, your eyes leave your page and find Sanji’s. He looks pale like a ghost, breathing irregular as he awaits his destiny
There’s another silence, this one is different, your annoyed tone sits on top of it leaving a sour taste behind your tongues, a silence that resembles a ticking bomb
“I am sorry” the cook fidgets with his hands, eyes pooling slightly at the thought of what will you do
“Your apology means nothing to me, actions speak for themselves Sanji…” your gaze is heavy, nothing like he usually meets it. You’re so light like the sea breeze, like a fresh lemonade drink on a sweet sunny day. Right now? You burn, hot like a spicy hot sauce that makes your nose run
You shake your head and sigh, a long tired one that makes Sanji’s heart tear at the seams
“I just don’t understand you Sanji… I would never do that to you”
This, this is the moment where you defeat him. Your sad puppy eyes looking up at him, the hurt behind your voice and the truth. Oh the truth of it all breaks him completely, of course you wouldn’t do that to him, you’re the most loyal kindhearted beautiful human being on earth
He swallows
Sanji considers throwing himself overboard for the sea kings to devour him whole, and that still wouldn’t be enough
He suddenly gets up and holds both your hands with such tenderness as he kneels before you
An offering at your benevolent temple
“My love, I know I did wrong and disrespected you and our relationship. No fancy sweet words could ever make a difference. So now I promise you, not empty promise but real this time, that I will change to he the man you deserve”
You shake your head once more. You don’t believe him? Are you finally done with him? There’s nothing he can do I if you decide to do so because he messed up big time
“I know I deserve better” Sanji closes his eyes and scrunches his nose at the statement, your voice drilling through his head and making him dizzy
It hurts, because it’s true
“But I don’t want better on anyone else but you”
His head that had dropped raises to find your face, you’re still mad, but even mad you offer him another chance while holding his hand through it all. Because that’s who you are, you believe in him, you trust him
“This is the last time-“
“Yes! Yes! I promise you my angel, you can kick me out of the crew If I ever even glance at the opposite direction of you, I will be better”
“Sanji” another shiver runs up and down his form, he loves the way you say his name
“Hurting my feelings and getting my forgiveness every single time is not okay. I would only continue to be with you if you show me change”
His golden locks rise and fall rapidly as he shakes bis head up and down. Carefully, he takes your left hand and kisses the promise ring atop of one of your fingers, a reminder of his undying love and devotion
A reminder that your love is stronger than anything else. Even jealousy and disrespect
The cold material meeting his lips makes him giddy. You’re way too good, he’ll spend the rest of his life making it up to you
“I am sorry, so deeply sorry sweetheart, and I’ll repay you being the best man, your man”
A giggle scapes you at the absurdity of it all. You don’t know when had Sanji wrapped you around his finger. If it were anyone else you would’ve walked a long time ago
But you know him, at his core, he needs you
And you love him, and he does too
Nami scoffs loudly making Robin laugh covering her mouth as to not drawn any attention, they can’t see your face but they can imagine both of you on the other side of the door
“I swear she forgives him too easy”
“Love is work” Robin says, whispers to the wind and Nami hates it
Because it’s true
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dekusdante · 1 day
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Things that annoys me in the Jujutsu Kaisen Fandom
Sorry but this is going to be all over the place.
Am I the only one tired of the same trope being used when it comes to Gojo from JJK? In other words the enemies to lovers trope where the oc or reader is basically Utahime with out the name.
Like we all remember the episode where he gave out what type of person he was into which was a nice girl or something along those lines. I that as writers you have to take creative liberties but why are all the readers in these stories are exactly the same.
They either hate Gojo or is super easily annoyed at him. Jerks but its okay cause for some reason he loves them unconditionally. This is so annoying cause there is no push back from Gojo in these stories. Just him taking back the reader or waiting for them to return his feelings when in actuality he shouldn't.
Another thing that annoys me is why is it always the guy that's simping why can't it ever be the woman being madly in love and trying to win him over?
This enemies to lover trope has completely taken over the Reader x Gojo fandom and its so overused. Now I will admit there are some gems out there, but I just don't even bother reading anything that is enemies to lovers anymore. I'm just tired of reading the same thing over and over again with the same copy and paste formula/reader.
Also why is smut so strong on here. Like don't get me wrong those writers are killing it with the plot aspect but man does all the smut kill me. Like I want more plot these are really good and creative ideas but man the smut kills me lol. Still reading the plot but stop at the smut parts which is usually the end so we gucci.
Hmm, another trope I refuse to read in these are arranged marriage were we are supposed to be upset with the guy who is forced to marry someone they don't want too. Why? Well for starters it always start with the reader being mistreated by the guy for some reason and the reader putting up with it until something happens and the guy falls in love with them and has to gain both their trust and love again.
I can get behind this but they always make the guy so unredeemable in these that it would be crazy if she takes him back. [She always does] Another thing is we are supposed to hate the guy because he wants to remain faithful to the person he was with before the arrange marriage. Like why are we bashing a faithful man?
Another trope I hate is when the guy is always in the wrong. A while ago I read a Gojo x reader fic were reader was mad that Gojo couldn't spend a lot of time with her so she broke up. Okay valid even though I am sure this would have been addressed before or earlier in the relationship but okay. What annoyed me with this story is that she then goes on to get in a relationship with Nanami who then calls Gojo an idiot for losing a woman like her.
I could not believe what I read. Like what the hell did Gojo do? At this point Gege posted about Gojo's life and how the man is booked to the max and I couldn't help but think how distasteful it was to first make it appear as if Nanami would do something like that to Gojo and secondly pretend that they don't have more free time compared to him. Like Nanami even understood why Geto did what he did.
Anyway that's all I got for now. I am not here to argue but I would love to hear about what you think on this. A second opinion is always welcomed and if you have a trope you don't like then I would love to hear it.
Also if you have a story that you would like to promo then please do so in the comments. It is a okay if you want too. No pressure,
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swampstew · 20 hours
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Oh Baby
Summary: Have you ever had the 'accident' talk? something short and sweet based off this post by @/MangyRacoon | no actual smut, all fluff and tenderness from someone so brash and violent. Thanks again for the original request Hebi <3
CW: Eustass Kid x F Reader, Trafalgar Law x F Reader, Roronoa Zoro x F Reader all separate accidental pregnancy scenario
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Kid clocks it right away. He’s so eager when he sees you, finding you on the dock instantly, and the first thing he notices are the dark circles under your eyes and your breasts look particularly perky in your top. He makes himself known, to your surprise, pulling you into a giant hug and asks you if you’re ok.
You tell him you’re just tired from work and your social battery was pretty much drained all the time, but you are happy to see him again. His hand traces your sallow cheeks as you tell him what you’ve been up to before he decides he’s going to carry you to the nearest food stall to get you both something to eat. He holds you while you hold the bags of food, cradled against his muscular chest as he takes long, impatient strides to your home. He’s going to get to the bottom of this and he wants to do it without his crew hovering.
He tells you about his adventures while you eat, if it can be called eating since you a few bites before you looked queasy, abandoning your plate and drinking ginger ale instead. Kid pushes his plate away and brings you to your feet, bringing you to his chest as he his hands gently caress your hips.
“I’ve been gone for a while now. Has anything happened?”
“Hm? Aside from taking on more work to pass the time, not really.”
“Nothing at all? Its been three months since we saw each other.”
“What are you getting at?” you ask irately, not liking the implication of his question.
Kid turns your body so your back is resting against his torso, metal hand holding you in place while his flesh fingers spread across your lower belly. The slow strokes made goosebumps erupt along your soft skin.
“You definitely didn’t have this last time…”
“ARE YOU CALLING ME F—?!” your yell is cut off as he covered your mouth.
“Y/N! Do the math!”
When your body starts trembling, he knows you made the connection and swiftly picks you up and takes you to your bed. Waiting to see if you would start the conversation.
“We never talked about an accident like this,” you whisper.
“No, so what are we going to do?”
“We?”
“Well…yeah. Unless you don’t want me involved…”
“I-I think I want too…but…sigh…I wouldn’t expect you to stay,” you whisper.
“You’re right I wouldn’t” he snorts, “Cause I’m taking you with me, idiot. No way in hell I’m letting you do this alone.”
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He’s the type of guy to (ironically) neglect his own health that he can hardly judge. So when he sees you after a few months apart, he tried to suppress his natural inclination to monitor and assess you as he took you into his arms.
In his embrace he can tell you even feel different. Like you were more tender, more sensitive to his touch as you squirmed in his hands. You pull away and he notices the top you’re wearing is the same one you wore the first time you met each other. This time though, he could see the strain on the fabric as your body peeked out from below the hem. And…hmmm did your ass get bigger?
Law tells himself not to do it, he can’t overstep. Fuck it, he does it anyway. As you lead him, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi to a bar, Law walks behind you discretely and scans you – confirming his suspicions.
The crew enters but Law escorts you to a private alley. He can’t wait a second longer to talk with you.
“So, I was gone for what…3 months?” he starts, his tone nearly clinical.
“Uh yup, you kept count?”
Law let out a light scoff, answering your question with another question, “Anything happen while I was gone?”
“Nope.”
“Have you been feeling…off at all?”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Y/N,” Law gripped your shoulder, a panicked look in his eyes.
“Been getting headaches, and uhm – hmm not been eating much either I guess. I feel like I’m just not hungry, and when I am I feel a little queasy.”
“You’re not EATING?!” both hands on your shoulders now, slightly shaking you even.
“I AM! Just with long stretches between meals.”
“Eating what?”
You looked at him long and hard and began listing off the weird combinations you’d been trying out recently. Yeah you knew some of the choices sounded out, but hey, it was the only you could really stomach…
OH.
You both stared wide eyed at each other as the truth sunk in. Oh shit.
Y’all never had the baby talk.
You were scared to voice your real feelings – Law was a pirate and he didn’t have time to be a father…right? Oh gods, he was a surgeon, would he…make you have a procedure if he didn’t want to have a child?
It was like he sensed your internal conflict, taking off his puffy hat and putting it over your head.
“You really want to do this? It won’t be easy you know. Especially in a tight ship like mine…”
Your eyes were glassy as you peered at him, “Are you…sure?”
“It’s your decision, Y/N.”
“If its with you, I think I can do it.”
Law couldn’t help the smile that curled over his face. Fondly remembering his own short-lived childhood, being a dutiful son, a caring older brother…
“Of course. And I’m a doctor, no child will be in better care.”
“With your power, I hope you’ll be doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”
“Tch, yeah.”
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For someone who could be quite thick-headed – the marimo knew something was different in the atmosphere when the ship docked at a familiar island they frequented. He was the first to leave, ignoring the calls of his crew to make sure he remembered the way back.
He was on the hunt – eyes darting left and right, walking swiftly as if he was being guided by an internal compass. Making his way until he found the small cottage you lived in, out in the middle of the fields and not that conveniently close to the town. Between the forest, the tall grass, and canyons, it was a shock he made it to front steps of the house before the sun was even high in the sky.
Zoro didn’t even knock – just turned the knob and stepped inside.
“ZORO!”
Your arms wrapped around his body, relishing in his presence after so many months.
He gently pulled you off him, to your confusion.
“It’s been a while,” he spoke softly, direct contradiction to his actions that felt robotic.
“About 3 months.”
“Yeah. Did anything happen during my absence?”
Your brows knit in confusion, “No? Like what?”
His green eyebrows furrowed right back at you, almost accusingly.
“Really? You haven’t been feeling like somethings wrong or anything?”
“Why would something be wrong?!”
With a frustrated click of his tongue, “You…smell different.”
Staring at him with wide-eyes, he couldn’t tell if you were plain shocked, offended, or saddened by his statement.
“NOT IN A BAD WAY!” he gripped your arms a little tightly, “JUST! You SEEM DIFFERENT! I don’t know how to describe it!!”
“Different how, besides the apparent aroma I’m wafting,” you asked indignantly.
A twitch of his forehead vein, Zoro took your hand and walked to your bedroom. Facing you in front of your standing mirror, he pulled your shirt over your belly and ran his hands down to your hips.
“These are bigger. Wider. There’s something in there,” he pointed to your barely swollen bump that had gone entirely unnoticed by you.
“Oh SHIT.” Your body shuddered and nearly collapsed in on itself as you sunk to the floor.
Zoro grabbed your elbows and gently lowered you, sitting next to you as you both had the same thought flashing through your minds.
We never had the ‘accident’ talk.
Less than a minute had gone by in silence before Zoro’s hand held yours, circling his thumb over the back of your hand, almost reassuringly.
“The Sunny is pretty big. Tons of stuff for a kid to get into, and a great crew that would keep an eye out. Robin could lend a hand anytime too.”
“Are you sure, Zoro?”
“I probably wouldn't make a good father on my own, but at least we have people to help us.”
A small smile pulled up the side of your mouth and it made Zoro’s heart stutter, “I’ve always heard it takes a village to raise a child. I wouldn’t mind the Straw Hats being that village.”
“Uh… Y/N, we’re a crew.”
“Same diff, mosshead.”
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loveandleases · 2 days
Note
(Kinda NSFW)
I'm sleep deprived, so if you find any English mistakes, I'm sorry.
How would the ROs react if after a slow burn romance with an MC recovering from trust and self-esteem issues that they acquired after Chris, both of them finally reach the boiling point where they can't hold it anymore and reveal their love for each other along with a night of passion and in the end, already exhausted, the RO looks at the MC, noticing that even though their eyes demand that MC close their eyes to finally sleep, the MC refuses, and when the RO ask why they answer "I'm scared... I don't want to wake up tomorrow and end up finding out that this is all a dream."
Sure thing nonie , the rest are under the cut!
❤️ Cam - "How about we make a deal? I'm going to pinch myself, and if we're both still here after then you have to go to sleep. Alright?" Cam pinches his cheeks with more force than necessary. "I'm still here, so go to sleep. I'll be right beside you when you wake up. Promise." He'll leave you no choice, either those eyes close or he's going to be reminiscing about some dumb things the two of you did when you were young. When you are finally asleep, Cam will just watch you. Because no matter how much he hate's to admit it, you spread a little seed of doubt. What if this is a dream? What if the thing he has longed to happen for so long vanishes when he wakes up?
💙 G - They want to say something logical, but logic tends to go out the window when the two of you are together. They allow their fingertips to rub along the lines of your face until they reach your eyes, using the soft pressure of the pads of their fingers to guide your eyelids down. "If it's just a dream, mind you the best dream of my life. Promise me, that if I'm not here when you wake up you'll find me. So that this can become real. I'd find you a hundred times over. Just to be with you again."
💚 Kara - She pulls you closer, allowing her head to rest on your chest as she studies you. "You'd dream of me?" she asks, with every intention of tiring you out. Talking until you have to no choice but to drift off. Reassuring you that she's here, and when she decides to be with someone, she means it. She will be there with her gold hair tangles in knots and old makeup clinging to her face. She'll be there to wake you, to remind you that tonight like the night before she'll spend it with you. Until you're no longer scared that it's a dream.
💛 M - "Would you rather stay up and let me tell you how I would make it a reality if it were?" M leaves a feather light kiss on your cheek. Burying their face into the crook of your shoulder. "I'd like to think I could write a character as amazing you, even with all the things that has happened that got you here. But I couldn't do you justice, not even in a dream." M would cradle you close, allow you to feel their heartbeat. Something real and tangible. There's no dream that could sum up the feelings between you, the way your very face lights up their own.
💜 Isaac - "It's ironic, you're worried this is a dream, and I'm worried it's real." Isaac shares the pain of losing someone, of losing a relationship held so dear that it could break you if you let it. They don't say it to worry you, they say it because they want to be honest for once. To let you see how messed up and scared you make them. "You scare me. This," they motion to the both of you, "scares the hell out of me. Because I didn't think I could feel for someone again. I don't want to lose you, to lose us. So if it's a dream, let me dream it." "And if it's real?"
"If it's real, promise to love me through the dumb things I'm going to do until I realize you actually want to be with me."
🖤 Ardent - He places a hand on your hip pulling you tight so that your bodies can slight together, your shared warmth radiating throughout your bodies. An all too familiar crooked grin falls on his lips, "You mean to tell me, out of everyone, you dreamt me up" Ardent laughs, rubbing your back with his palm to ensure he means no harm.
He stares at you, those eyes looking for reassurance, and his smile fades into something more sincere. "If this were a dream, I'd be the luckiest man." He kisses your forehead, allowing his deep voice to soothe you.
His nose nudges your own, as those dark brown eyes latch onto yours. "You know a dream could never be this real," he allows his fingers to trail along your bare arm causing goosebumps. "A dream could never capture my affection for you. How much I want to hold you like this, it would never allow me to make love to you like we did. Go to sleep, and I promise when you wake up I'll prove to you all over again this is real."
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eiraeths · 17 hours
Text
Penpals Ghost and Soap who met through an anonymous support group system for enlisted soldiers. Ghost didn’t want to join initially but some pushing from Price and he gave in. He didn’t expect much to come from it, a few letters here and there that’d eventually taper off and him and whoever his penpal was would forget about each other soon after.
Only that didn’t happen.
Ghost didn’t expect the person who wrote the letter to be in the same boat as him, sharing the same frustrations about support groups full of people trying to keep their head above the water, only to be organized and run by people trying to keep their head above the water. He didn’t expect himself to pick up a pen and start writing a response letter after reading the most horrid pun he’d ever rested his eyes on.
He didn’t expect to enjoy it, let alone want to know more about this Soap guy. More and more letters are sent and received and somehow, they integrate into his daily routine. He looks forward to the letters arriving twice a month. He never knew he could anticipate something.
Soap likes loud things, Ghost learns. Music, cars, explosions, any and everything loud. He has gym routines and lists upon lists of everything he does. He adores math and chemistry—for reasons Ghost can’t wrap his head around—and always goes on long-winded tangents about his day.
Ghost thinks he likes Soap.
One letter comes with a photo. A printed out polaroid with the center focus being on man with a mohawk. Soap says they’ve been talking long enough, and Ghost might as well know what he looks like.
Ghost didn’t expect for himself to track down a photo printing camera and send one back—no mask present—nor did he expect for Soap to call him cute. No one knew, but he kept the photo tucked into his plate carrier on every op. And he sure as hell didn’t expect to find himself flustered over some damn words.
A few years go by without a day missed. Ghost didn’t expect for Soap to miss sending a letter. Then two.
He didn’t expect to go to the mail room and his dread turn to excitement when he saw a letter addressed to him. Only to turn to dread when opening the letter to different handwriting, and knowing what happened, knowing Soap was dead the moment he didn’t see chicken scratch capital letters or random marks on the paper from where soap would tap his pencil while thinking.
He didn’t expect to feel this much grief over someone he never met in person. Didn’t expect to feel this much grief over what could’ve been, might’ve been if they had just met up.
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My Espresso
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A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol
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The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 
How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.
Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.
As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 
Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.
All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 
~~~Years Later~~~
Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 
As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 
Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 
You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 
Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 
Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 
You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 
You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 
The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 
You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 
“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”
Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 
As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 
You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.
The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 
Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 
Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 
The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 
You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.
As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 
The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 
The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 
As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 
You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 
Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 
What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 
Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.
~~~Flashback~~~
You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 
Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”
Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 
He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.
Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 
You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 
As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.
~~~Present Day~~~
The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 
A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.
Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.
Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 
A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 
You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.
Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.
You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.
After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 
As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 
Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 
You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 
You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 
He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 
Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 
All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.
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fivelasanctum · 2 days
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Dark Fivela hints are canon
Recently their was a slight leak over a dark scene where five dreams of Lila losing her mind. Looks like something straight from a horror film. Rather disturbing but adds new insight into their relationship. Being stuck in their limbo of being a hell on one side but heaven in terms of freedom and having their own world to grow closer in. The original poster said their were darker takes. Could see them putting emphasis on their shared madness. Skeletons from their closet haunting them (Mostly due to malnutrition and repeating the same actions of survival. That pushed their minds to the edge) Five has been paranoid and incredibly suspicious in the past. This dream most likely terrified him over his darker fears manifesting. Relying on Lila, being vulnerable, protecting her and making her his purpose to get her back home. What happens if he couldn't protect her mind from being broken? His did and that's originally how he created Dolores. Over the years he would attack, shoot first in his original apocalypse. Which was odd since nobody but him existed there. Not like in the case of the subway stops, where they never knew what they would be getting. Think his first inclination towards violence was a testament to the madness of being alone with no true escape. The extended cut of the leaked footage could have been Lila trying to choke him or seeing him as an enemy. Forgetting the present in favor of the past. Or Five being forced to kill her in defense. Being met with that reality would push him to insanity most likely. He has grown close to her by this point. They were family and friends with hints to the growing tension between them. Five burying his own feelings before the subway. Knowing how he tried to kill her in season 2, only for it to catch up to them again despite the years and time spent growing closer. In gamer speak this would have been an alternate 'bad end' 'for them. Killing each other or one being left surviving from the attack. Could also be an insight into Five's own darkness he is struggling to keep at bay. He succumbed to it the first time around in his timeline and with lila, felt it wouldn't happen again. Yet they had become each others rock. If one cracks then they both do. She is wearing the same outfit, has the same length of hair and similar lighting was used in the quick scene from the montage below. It's my theory that he woke up from that nightmare. Obviously troubled. Think lila comforted him or made one of her more blunt jokes, laughing loudly. That infectious laughter made five smile and do the same. Showing that she is still herself and able to be content with his company. Not to say she doesn't miss her old life but it's not seen as a third ring of hell given their was affection between them before all this had happened. I would say this takes place in year three. Their madness and break downs.
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In the end, think the dark edge brought them closer. Both fighting back and embracing their darkness. Seeing each other at their worse. Possibly around that same time they helped each other more. Five removing the glass from her foot. Her in turn, doing the intimate task of shaving him and no doubt cutting his hair. The love and trust growing with those actions given the more than likely, brief breakdowns that occurred and the fear of madness tearing them down. Their relationship looks to be quite strong even before it became official. Lol or I might be overthinking by being so excited over something new from the subway storyline xD Perfect timing for Halloween~! Apparently Lila and Five can be the face of Spooktober coming up lol
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