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capslocked · 11 months

Text

PART & PARCEL

male reader x sana && tzuyu

18k words

“Is it too late?” Sana asks, and here’s how it always starts with her.

Nevermind that it’s not a question in search of an answer. A normal person could, should, text you. Hey, what’s up? or something equally inconspicuous before turning up the dial, are you busy? can I, like, come over?

Instead, she’s at your doorstep again, twirling a bundle of honey-blonde between her fingertips as if she doesn't know what all that does to people. Some people say, incorrectly, that these are the hours of the night shared with ghosts. And to that you say: No, these hours belong to Sana, clearly, and apparently nobody fucking else.

Now in a way, you do get it. It’d be easier to turn back over in your bed and ignore the elegant simplicity of a text message, or one step beyond that, do the unthinkable and finally tell her no, but when she’s standing there - there with that face, like a thousand different excuses or a million little reasons why she needs something from you, right now - and all she has to do is push her lips together, eyebrows going high -

It is a bit like magic, after all, this feeling when she comes around.

Everything that happened before - her visits, the first one and then the next - no matter how impossible, gets washed away, and suddenly all you have is her. Her voice, her hair, and a sneaking suspicion that the time apart really isn’t such a bad thing, because you don't always have a guess as to what comes next.

Of course, you were always going to let her in.

“I saw the lights were on,” she adds, starting to shrug off her coat like she knows you will.

“I mean, I’m here,” you say, non-committal.

“Yeah. I can see that.”

The door's half open and the only substantial hesitation you have is when you peer over her shoulder. There’s another girl, propping herself up against the doorframe, with a pretty head of glossy, sable hair falling gracefully down her shoulders, and she looks at least a few years younger than Sana. You smile cautiously at her before giving Sana another, much longer glance. In response, you receive a wink that's as subtle as a brick through a glass window (which only raises more questions). You ask the one that seems most important.

What else would Sana, of all people, possibly want to bring you if not some plaything or another. You've seen it all: girls who liked her money, girls who liked her body, girls who just flat-out liked girls, whatever. The dynamic always seemed to be, as long as everyone is having a good time, nothing to get hung up about - because at the end of the night, everyone comes around to Sana again.

And she comes around to you.

Why question it.

“This is a little… irregular,” you say with a nod of your chin, as you step back from the door. "Who's the plus one?"

Sana motions the girl in with a sweep of her hand and throws you another disarmingly flirtatious smile - the same one that'd first left you utterly hooked by this strange person, who had, when you first met, walked into your life for five minutes, then fucked your lights out the way she wanted. She goes further with this, of course, teasing a warm smile and slanting an eyebrow.

"I figured I'd bring you a gift," she coos, in this sultry, dusky sing-song of a voice that really needs no followup whatsoever, other than maybe take my clothes off right now, as she makes a show of how she's pushing her shoulders back, like there's an audience to be impressed with the curve of her bust. "Since we were celebrating."

"Uh-huh. What's the occasion?"

"Whatever the hell you'd like," Sana chirps.

With that, she takes you by the collar. And even though the girl she brought is in the middle of, like, peering around curiously in your foyer, Sana leans up on the balls of her feet and kisses you hard. It's a real kiss - no preamble - which is sort of funny, given you would have been more than okay with some. So, naturally, you're caught entirely off-guard. It takes a full ten, fifteen seconds of feeling her hot little mouth pressed insistently up against yours, your mind gone blank with the suddenness of the moment. Your body taking it for granted.

Meanwhile, the other girl blinks - long, dark lashes batting the curve of her cheekbones slowly until Sana has moved to stand in front of her with the full, earnest intention to cup her jaw, tilt her head down a smidge, and kiss her too (very thoroughly, also, in her own way).

Sana lets the girl go with a sharp draw of air and a peck. Then she looks at you, just this side of playful. The way her teeth flash over her bottom lip suggests how she's enjoying, to her bones, this state of affairs: a dalliance with control, with desire, where she can flaunt it.

She tells you to relax, unwind, which you suppose is code for taking another of Sana's friends and bending her over every horizontal surface in your flat and fucking someone the way you've wanted for the last however-long it's been since Sana dropped back into your life. You've done as much. Some rotating cast of characters: Mina, Chaeyoung, Nayeon, the raven haired girl with the perfect tits; some names and faces starting to run together the more Sana pops up at your place with a girl under one arm, usually looking half bored and half shy - or at least putting up some pretense that might justify Sana telling them to strip down while she's already eyeing you with this look like she's wondering which article of clothing you'll be ripping off her first.

"Does she have a name?" you ask, with a nod vaguely in her direction. Of course it's a loaded question. What's her name doesn't matter. You don't know most of their names.

But when you do a double-take, remembering to steal a good look, you're not sure you've ever seen anyone pull off that perfect little white dress quite the way she does - the kind that goes right up the back, tucked under the neck, sleeves coming to a neat point across her fingers. Sana may or may not have a thing for pretty girls in cute dresses, but this is, without question, the most obvious bribe you've ever witnessed in your life.

Sana's still smirking - so much for being considerate, you think for a second, until you’ve got a dainty hand stretched into yours like you’re brushing up with royalty. And well, maybe you’re getting a better look now that she isn’t bathed in the calm, assured wickedness that two A.M. might only ever know - the dark curling like wind around her fingers and down the lines of her spine, cajoling.

She is gorgeous.

And she says -

“Chou Tzuyu,” in this charming little voice that’s even more mesmerizing than you anticipated, this taut thread winding itself up between the two of you. She says her name with a gentle sigh, a light in her eyes that you know, intimately, not to trust, but you get the sense that she'd rather you make an exception for her - or at least for the night. “Everyone calls me Tzuyu.”

You feel a squeeze at your fingers, an anxious reminder from Sana's thumb, as if she feels the reverie in which you've lapsed. It draws you back, just slightly so.

"Tzuyu," you say, taking mental note of the faint smile that shadows in at the corner of her mouth when you do. "How much do you know?"

She twists in Sana's direction, and oh, look how eager and innocent and coquettish Tzuyu's making herself in front of her, smiling. What do I say, the gesture is asking. You can see her effort to hold back a giggle or two as she bites her lip, trying, as all the pretty girls who come through these doors often try, to come up with something cute and modest and small that'll allow you and Sana to picture exactly the right thing. You can tell when a person is not used to having an audience.

"I know Sana..." Tzuyu's voice trails as she gives Sana a furtive glance. "She talks about you a lot. And I figured, you know."

"What? That we were good friends?"

"Sure," Tzuyu laughs to herself lightly again. "Whatever makes it easier."

Sana has her fingers threaded beneath Tzuyu’s chin, studying her like she’s an artifact that belongs behind glass. Expensive. One of a kind. And oh-so-excessively fragile.

The way Sana touches her, she may be trying to prove the point, guiding her body's angles and edges towards whatever form she sees fit, with just fingertips and the slightest tug, showing you exactly how malleable the girl can be. The look on Tzuyu's face is hardly discomfited when her dress slides past the dips of her shoulders or the slope of her waist, when the fabric gets crumpled in Sana's hand like the most expensive balled-up tissues in the universe. You can't decide what animal comes to mind: perhaps a deer, some cute, unknowingly doomed elk.

"No underwear," you note, watching.

Sana draws herself a little closer to Tzuyu with an appreciative gaze, lips gently landing at her shoulders, neck.

"Why bother?" Tzuyu muses. "What were we going to use them for?"

A pull here, a tug there, and the dress puddles around Tzuyu's feet, silk shimmering like the inky dark of a starless sky. And just shy of a pedestal and perhaps a fucking moonbeam, she's the spitting image of perfection: porcelain skin stretching out over a masterwork of curves and bone and muscle. A sculpture, a study in the form that so frequently leaves people just absolutely dumbstruck and thirsty in their wake.

Sana trails her hand around the width of her hip - drawing your eye along the skin of her leg, up and around the perfectly curved thigh - stopping to splay her fingers just so at the base of her spine, as if in demonstration of ownership. Like this: mine.

"Don't get it confused," Sana tells you. "The whole naive innocence thing is a total fucking misdirection."

"Tzuyu," you say again, this time noticing the way it feels in your mouth, syllables sweet and sticking to its roof like honey - maybe something more of an excuse to move forward and touch her yourself, palm her face, brush your thumb over her bottom lip. A taste, something subtle but intense, spreads to the back of your throat, the moment her teeth graze gently over its pad. "Is that true?"

"Are you asking me what kind of girl I am?"

"I didn't put it exactly like that."

"Just answer, sweetheart," Sana says, brow quirked in a faux-display of nonchalance, fingers still pressed, spreading gently at her neck. She's enjoying this a little too much. Though, you're enjoying this too. It doesn't have to be an either-or kind of scenario.

"It's better if you say it," she adds after a second of consideration, and even though it's obvious by now she's only prodding and that this is a foregone conclusion, Tzuyu puts an emphatic twitch in her lips - red, wet, a vision in crimson - like the thought is deeply troubling and will likely require lots and lots of thorough explanation later.

"Fine, okay, in that case," Tzuyu starts with a weary sigh, and then with a blink-and-you've-missed-it flash of a smirk, there's no way anyone's buying any of this, "I’ll say: I'm whatever kind of girl you want me to be."

Sana was right, and she didn’t even need to go so far as to say it. It’s clear - you want her.

But it's half as easy to pinpoint where it all starts: there's the way Tzuyu melts, sinking just that much further when you guide your hands around the curve of her ribs, fingers following the flow of her soft edges, the slopes and valleys of her breasts, and she parts her lips even before yours touch the seam of her mouth, her breath warm, heavy, the kind of anticipation that sends jolts down her neck, her spine, the body electric - a real live wire.

Or, it's because of the way she likes it - like, really likes it. There's something exceptional in a girl who will wrap her legs around your waist and suck your tongue and whimper just by a feather's touch around her hips or between her thighs, where it's damp and hot and holy shit, this is unreal in a very tactile, visceral way. There's no mistaking the noise for anything but genuine pleasure when Tzuyu's trying, unsuccessfully, to bite down the whine sneaking up her throat and into your mouth - where you're kissing her, still - the kind that presses heavy at the bottom of your stomach.

Or, there's Sana yet, pulling her clothes off, and instead of leaving a trail in her wake, folds each piece neatly until she's bared down to this fine little number of lace and cream-colored silk that'd make your head spin if you weren't, y'know, pretty busy, mouth occupied by Tzuyu's pliant moans, both of your tongues colliding.

"God," Tzuyu groans out quietly as you pin her to the wall, and again after another string of kisses, sucking your lip.

There are fleeting moments that slip through like sunlight that have you thinking: Right, this was a good idea, nothing other than a sweet girl like this all messed up and squirming with the shallow dig of your nails. But only close to perfect.

Sana will explain it.

"Mm. Not god." Sana is grinning when she leans up for the same kiss, but she takes her time with it: mouth slotted tight against Tzuyu's as her long fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of Tzuyu's neck, working her grip up slowly so that the strain gets more noticeable until the girl is a gasp on a choke of breath. The curve of her back is drawn out by that same hand and her ribs pressed, pert and rosy, into the cool air.

"Sir, and please," Sana then instructs, voice just harsh enough for Tzuyu to understand.

You might imagine she's also drawing in with her nails, teeth, a full-body drag up her exposed front, like some kind of prize, marking and tasting and fucking every inch. There's a whimper, desperate sound of, yes, right, fuck, please, and sir slipping like a sigh off the edge of Tzuyu's tongue.

"Or better yet," Sana adds, with another searing press into the junction of her collarbone, "say daddy, please," then follows through on the plea with another slow-pull.

You try not to roll your eyes. It's Sana's kink, not yours. It's a whole thing. And with Sana, like most things, you find it best when you simply play along.

More than that, you indulge her. You both do.

"Okay, daddy." Tzuyu's teeth catch the corner of her mouth in a self-amused bite. Twisting and twisting the swell of her lip further until it snaps forward. "I want you to tell me something," she says, which, for the way this typically goes, is a little more self-assured and pressing than the usual fare. Even Mina, who was perhaps less than enthusiastic about the - uh - title in question, came around eventually when she had Sana's fingers, your cock, all sunk so deep inside her she forgot what any fucking words were anyway.

So maybe Sana does know what she's doing with this one. Maybe you oughta thank her.

Tzuyu just lifts her chin, says, "this isn't what I expected when I showed up here."

"Obviously, it's not," Sana says.

"What I mean is, this is all good fun, of course," Tzuyu explains. A charming indignance that slips past, like the fingers down her belly. She swallows hard, muscles clenching as your palm runs slow over a hip, squeezing. "Though I guessed when we left Sana's, I would've been bouncing on his cock five minutes ago."

Sana's lithe little frame ends up closer - nearly naked in lace and wholly difficult to miss. She's a half head shorter than the girl in front of you, but with a tilt of her chin and a beckon of her hand, it's a powerful look about the lines of her face: eyes slightly hooded, mouth curved and devastating. It's as if, at every hour of the night, the simplest glance will have the fabric of someone's clothing coming undone, regardless.

Tzuyu is just slowly trading looks between the two of you. So curious. "So what then, do I have to do," her words curl like smoke up her throat, "to get fucked by both of you, hm? In, like, the next five or ten more minutes, preferably."

"He's not going to fuck your brains out simply because you ask." Which by the way, is the first real lie Sana tells tonight.

Tzuyu is unimpressed, or maybe she's a stoic. "Clearly," she deadpans.

Whatever the expression is that is fluttering those gorgeous lashes, eyebrows pulled down, adds a faint mark of distrust across her brow. The prettiest scoffs you've ever heard. "Isn't the point to get me spread out on your sheets so you can use me like a little fucktoy?"

A sigh from Sana: heavy, calculated. She does not reply in any obvious way to that, no flimsy assurances that it would be whatever the hell Tzuyu likes (though you think maybe Sana might want to take this whole fucking opportunity, all this thinly veiled begging for it, for the first taste of what will probably be the main thing that'll hold her over the edge of an orgasm or two).

So, instinctually, Tzuyu pushes it, just enough - she tilts her head, and the motion is followed by a wide sashay of her hips as she gently presses a fingertip to your chest, encouraging a step back to better your balance, like the pull between you has a little more gravity.

"Don't go quiet on me." Another sultry note pulls from her mouth when she guides you another foot - or however many, until the foyer opens up into your living room. The chair, the sofa, a table, you watch her eyes wander like she's mapping the territory. And then finally she drops her hands from your shoulders, reaching instead for Sana, taking her waist in her palms.

Holding her. Kissing her.

There's a delicateness about both of them, clearly, and not only how Tzuyu angles their lips, as if she doesn't fully intend for the two to merge but instead taste the line, test the edges, or something; but Sana doesn't fight this. In fact, when Sana's being drawn gently, but confidently into a deeper, harder press, a very eager give, her eyes slip closed. There's a war, and Sana - though she'd be the last to admit it - is losing.

Tzuyu, at the end of a particularly sharp draw of air, simply turns to you, eyes peeking over the tousle of copper hair atop Sana’s head, and asks: "How does daddy want to play with his toys?"

It clicks in your head immediately: she's a natural, could be an actress, maybe a pro - you have no idea where Sana found her - even if that doesn't exactly match with the diction; daddy, and sir, and the baby-girl pout. There are the things she does to Sana, this slipstream of control passed back and forth and back and forth again - a fevered tugging, the give of one or the other. An entirely different dance. Beautiful, fluid, intense.

Eventually, it lands in your lap. Literally and metaphorically. Tzuyu looks up from where she's kneeling between your legs and with a little pinch of your hips, tells you with that intoxicately sweet, melodic voice of hers, that you seem like the sort who wants someone who just takes initiative.

And she's right.

"May I?" she asks, breathlessly, fingers at the zip.

"Of course,” Sana answers for you, settling into her side like you both belong to her. Like she’s about to enjoy this just as much as you are.

What does the room sound like, the darkness giving away? Everything. The hum of the appliances, the purr of the heat, something in the walls is settling into its final position for the night as the floorboards sigh. Breathing. Listening.

What you don't hear:

Chou Tzuyu moving - whether she shifts onto her knees, or adjusts how her slender fingers fall from the waist of your pants, doesn't matter - no crunch, no shuffle. She doesn't swipe away the hair from her eyes or drag the pad of a thumb over her swollen, bottom lip. All she does is pull, just a bit, and the zipper breaks the silence, comes apart down the way.

Sana clears her throat gently, hoping, possibly, that Tzuyu might be the kind of girl who just loses herself to the moment, caught in the headlights. The way every delicate, doe-eyed girl is supposed to do. Sana likes them a little helpless like that - makes her feel big.

It's too bad really, because Tzuyu doesn’t appear like she's awash with anything in particular. Or at the very least, she's done a fairly convincing imitation of not being the slightest bit off-put, completely disarmed or whatever Sana had been looking to see.

She does look up though. Long, pretty face still managing a bit of devastation from this angle. Those full lips slightly pouted and slick in red: such an inviting color against her pale skin.

"Sana," she coos, eyes wide and brilliant - innocent, yet taunting all at once - and she's deliberate in what she says next, flitting her tongue across her canines to punctuate every sound: "Isn’t daddy going to use me now?"

"Oh." Sana leans in, eyes flicking up at you, Tzuyu's hands, her body, and starts slowly, like she's exacting a punishment, "Tzuyu, baby," her own anticipation beaming off the surface of her thousand-kilowatt grin, "you're going to take that perfect cock," the words dripping off Sana's tongue, heavy, sweet, "you're going to take it, get your pretty little lips all over it sweetie, you're going to show him just how good you can use that filthy fucking hole of a mouth for him. You're going to take him until he cums in your throat, and then you're going to beg him for more. And if you can do that, well. Then we’ll fuck you exactly how you wanted."

Tzuyu blinks - doting and innocent like the angel everyone probably thinks she is.

But then what you've learned about the angels that Sana brings you: they're devils in disguise, well familiar with the sin and lust that resides in these places; sunk into the cushions of the couch, pressed against the cold pane glass of a window, wound tight in the springs of a mattress. You had long thought - and think, you do, particularly when doing the unthinkable - it's easier that way, to leave aside thoughts of right and wrong and ask: Just how far can an angel fall?

"Ah. Perfect," Tzuyu says, sounding like an answer, and her eyes widen as she peels past that band of elastic.

Your cock springs forward and bumps into the pad of her finger, which traces the length of it like it's hers to own, to pleasure.

"God," she hums with satisfaction, and even without looking up, or even before you say a damn word, she draws her tongue up along the underside in one swift, wet lick. "Sana you weren’t exaggerating: daddy's cock is fucking gorgeous."

There is that tiny whine, or more precisely a tiny, oh fuck when Tzuyu curls her hand around your shaft. Sana gives her a push. "Say it, Tzuyu," she all but growls at her.

"Daddy," she says, always pausing on the word. Testing it further. "Please."

"Please," Sana mimics in faux-sweetness, repeating it again once you start to nod.

Not that it changes much - the stare that Tzuyu fixes you is charmingly determined, like a challenge. Then, she inhales.

Deep.

That slide into her mouth is smoother than anything, hot and slippery and oh, right - you remember faintly with a shudder: those pretty teeth hidden away behind a perfectly lascivious mouth, so much that a couple sharp, expert brushes are enough to send lightning dancing along your spine. Sana moves her hands across your hips, to the buttons on your night shirt, working her way up until the fabric has fallen to the side and she can open your chest up to the air, let Tzuyu swallow the rest.

This, Tzuyu likes. "Ah," she gasps around you, or she tries to, your cock propped up on her soft little tongue.

She likes the way that feels. The way you fit in her hands, her mouth. And it shows. Her posture curls deliciously, under the satisfaction of her lips wrapping finally having something to wrap around tight, tight, tighter - under Sana's roaming touches, the skirting of her nails down Tzuyu's chest, reaching with slow deliberation across her stomach until there's a whisper of skin across sensitive flesh.

“She’s so fucking wet,” Sana tells you, smiling at Tzuyu from above and fitting a fingernail between her teeth. "Good fucking girl, aren't you Tzuyu?"

The moan that leaks out around the weight of your cock is pure. Pure lust, pure pleasure. Pure perfection. Her tongue flattens beneath you and finds you surging even deeper, a firmer slide of Tzuyu's wet lips that brings you right into the roof of her mouth - as she twists her face around you, a soft scrape against the inside of her cheek.

You sigh.

And Sana sighs back.

"Of course. Always such a hidden talent," she notes, as Tzuyu's perfect mouth moves and plucks and teases your nerves, twirling her tongue around your tip. Again as she swallows you down, slow, savoring.

“Tell me,” you say, because the heat of Tzuyu’s mouth is starting to remind you of a daydream, “how exactly do you know each other?”

"Work," Sana answers, flatly.

"Like-"

"Yup."

"She sings?"

"She does - rather, she will." Sana glances sidelong with a bit of a grin. "You have no idea what that tongue can do to people when it's got some good backing tracks, when it knows a goddamn fucking thing about rhythm. Speaking of," Sana looks down at where Tzuyu has her silky brown head of hair bobbing between your legs.

And then it's clear what she means, Tzuyu humming and rolling your shaft through the flat of her tongue. It's all slick, soaking heat and the tension building and building in your balls, aching, just absolutely desperate for more friction, to be taken and used and stuffed in her throat - or just more of this.

"Here," Sana's fingers are hooked in your pants, helping them off your legs, your ankles, pulling you further to the edge of the sofa. Let me, she's telling Tzuyu, this slight murmur of want she just can't wait on.

"Wait, I'm -" Tzuyu attempts, pulling her lips off the curve of your cock, to where pre-cum is weeping out of its tip, and she kisses it so very tenderly, going back for round two. Round three. She floats her fingers up over her eyebrows, into her fringe, all to tuck some dark, wispy hair gently behind her ear when she starts to hollow her cheeks and again suck your cock in earnest.

Until -

"Tzuyu," Sana reprimands her, "don't play, daddy's got his work cut out for him tonight. So be a good girl, and let me show you what he likes."

It takes a second, maybe three. It might take longer if Sana didn't have her fingernails digging into her thighs, sliding further to grab hold of Tzuyu by the hair and pull her lips off your shaft. There's a thin trail of spit coming off her mouth and stringing across you. Sana closes her fist in the back of Tzuyu’s hair and doesn't so much as blink while studying the look on her face: lips glistening, just absolutely needy, like she can't help the whimper in her throat.

"Hm?" Sana cocks her head to the side.

"But... sir."

"You are his toy," Sana explains, flashing her eyebrows because apparently it needs to be said, "not the other way around."

And it may be the first time you've seen it happen since Sana walked in with Tzuyu and declared her intentions: the fluster, the pink spread across Tzuyu's features like some scarlet-lettered stain. Defenses dropped like a draw-bridge. She's not quite every bit as cool and composed as she wants the two of you to think she is. (They never are.)

But the fact that Tzuyu's coy little smile returns into her lips - how she's wiping the spit off her mouth with the sharp edge of her hand and pointing your cock in Sana's direction with a delicate, arched brow, how she then moves on, untangling herself from Sana's grasp, eyes heavy, but on her - is a marvel in and of itself.

It’s an amusing surprise, a welcome one, for the simple reason that Tzuyu keeps showing both of you that she can have anything she wants exactly like this: wrapped around a slender fingertip, flushed and helpless, and without breaking a sweat.

"Have you considered daddy wants both our mouths on his cock and maybe a few less words?" Tzuyu scoffs. And even though Sana does scoff right back in retort, that's exactly how it plays out.

(And you may, upon occasion, reflect: you're a real lucky bastard.)

Sana always puts on this act. One that you’ve learned to see right through.

Like she isn't too eager to follow the momentum, that she hadn't just been just as impatient to touch you - to be on her knees with Tzuyu, all aside this beautiful girl who gives you a pretty smile when her tongue finds the base of your cock. Who likes being bossed around but can just as easily turn her face towards yours - in what seems almost like a taunt - as if saying: You know what else I like? to be challenged, and sometimes when the mood’s right, pushed and punished.

But Sana doesn't let you see what kind of resolve she has until she's gone another minute, licking, lapping her tongue around your cock - this is her idea, after all. The little white dress in a heap, the adoration and worship that comes with fucking girls she knows are the prettiest things to see ruined.

Listen - even if Sana’s veneer is as blatantly obvious as it is shatterably thin, she’s no less dangerous.

When she first pushes the very head of your cock inside her mouth, and just that - because why rush it, she's so fucking perfect with those pretty lips - the rest of your brain is shouting something to the tune of fuck me sideways because she knows you better than anyone, knows what really gets your blood burning.

A few slow brushes, one kiss, this lick that goes bottom to top and over and around. It’s like she's testing the surface, dragging her lips across your aching cock as she settles on a rhythm, a tempo that starts to mirror the movements of Tzuyu's hand.

Tzuyu lets you see: this slow twist, this slide of skin up and down the length of your shaft, her soft fingers rubbing tight circles up and down the path of her palm until it meets Sana’s mouth. And like it’s the most simple thing in the world, she dips down, finds a place at the base of your cock, where Sana’s lips can’t quite reach, and drops a hot, messy kiss right across the spot.

Fuck.

She kisses you everywhere.

"Sana," you start to say, and she looks up through the strands of blonde fallen slightly in front of her face. Her lips sink further down the length of your cock - until she hears your breath catch in the bottom of your throat. Until she’s pulling you up and out, again, just barely past her teeth.

Fuck.

"Mm." She hums it right into your skin, and her eyes are hooded, dipping right down with another pull of spit, and then another, before her lips are at the tip once more, flicking across the slit with her tongue - wet and rough.

"Sana," you try again, biting into your lip as you reach a hand into the gold locks of hair framing her deceptive, pretty little face, and tug, a warning, a reminder. You need. It's too early for you to be repeating yourself, and Sana knows that.

A pop, the release of her mouth slipping off the top of your cock, and Tzuyu moves - wrapping her lips tight and silken around the sides, the rest. It all happens in an instant. You're being taken with the sudden, harsh suction of one mouth, the other, fluid and slipping back and forth again and again.

Sana's nodding along, impressed, as she watches Tzuyu take you - completely, nose to your hip - and has a glint of pure hunger shining through her eyes when you hiss, when she kisses along the lines of Tzuyu's stretched lips. There's another flick of a tongue, and you can feel Tzuyu moan something muffled and choked, a frantic pulse at the base of your spine - pressure gathering like a fucking flood.

"Just how you like it, hmm?" Sana says, her breath warm on your balls as she seals her own mouth right over the base of your shaft. And you swear there's something about this: the drag and suck of both their lips as your hips stutter forward, the feeling of them pressed together in a perfect line, heads tilted and mouths fucking dripping with saliva and sin - your hands, resting on the backs of their heads as they're returning you these greedy little moans that vibrate off the top of your cock and nearly kill you in the process.

“Tell me,” Sana adds, dragging a hot, hazy kiss over the sensitive skin up your shaft. "How's daddy feeling? Hmm? Feels nice and perfect, doesn't it. Feels like you could just let go and release, a hot, sticky load of cum, right down her fucking throat. I know she’ll swallow every drop."

"Fucking hell, Sana-"

Sana doesn't exactly answer to your begging, only hikes Tzuyu a fraction higher over your body to gain better control of the rhythm, and a better view: the hollowed out cheeks, her watery, half-shut eyes, tears welling in her lashes - because the prettiest girls always come apart in the most perfect ways.

You grip into all that silky brown hair, thumb running gently up and over the soft skin behind her ear as she finds an exacting little movement with her lips that will have your spine twitching uncontrollably as you fuck deeper down the perfect arch of her throat, Sana keeping rhythm, guiding you all the way in - a searing heat, and then a new rush of saliva dripping off Tzuyu's chin and back down into the tangle of tongues, fingers, throats, mouths.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The pair of them. The things they're doing.

"Or maybe," Sana muses, tilting her head on an angle that suggests she's weighing her options, and then, massaging a quick, firm twist into the very base of your cock she finally lets spill: "You could make a mess of that perfect face," Tzuyu's faint whimper hardly slips out unnoticed, "I'd hold her hair for you while you cum all over her - how about that baby, should we make a big mess of your pretty face?"

The whimper grows louder - Tzuyu moans long and low, right up against the tightening tension gathering between your hips, right as your balls pull, that familiar coil about to break - and, god, if there's some part of you committed to holding the moment, waiting and wanting to stay in the vision of these two perfect mouths pressed together, it's a fleeting and useless notion - but, as usual, Sana already knows.

The way they're blowing you in perfect tandem, their mouths locked together, kissing around your shaft as they continue to pleasure you, filthy and open - a little more, the thought percolates, a little longer, to let the pressure swell.

"Sir," Tzuyu says, swallowing her next breath, and that's the first you've heard her sound like that: whining, pleading.

She slaps your cock against her lips, her tongue - it's all so wet with spit and precum and slick that her chin is coated, her fingers. A demonstration of what you should have already known: Sana's girls aren't just straight down the line. They want the messy, roughness that comes with the sin; the split in the seam, the wail, the raw, uncut want.

You watch Tzuyu’s lips curl, this quiet smile pressed against your cock, and after a slow draw of air, they fall open again. Asking, "aren't you going to fuck your toy's slutty little mouth?"

The silence of the night swallows up the sounds of Sana's low chuckle and the responding squelch of her fingers tearing free, her hand trailing after. Here’s three bodies in the otherwise ordinary emptiness of your living room, on the edges of the leather sofa, so completely drenched in anticipation and hunger.

There’s a flash across Sana's rounded cheeks, hot, like she's just this small space shy of smirking, or giving into something, you don't know. Tzuyu, however, you've got a fairly clear view of - how her eyes glaze, pupils going wide and dark, staring up at you as she places the shape of your cock so acutely up the length of her perfect features: chin supporting its base, the cute, button-like tip of her nose teasing the soft underbelly of skin pulled taut - a fucked up preamble to whatever the hell it is going to feel like, once she's ready for more.

"Say please, sweetie," Sana says, fluttering her fingers over Tzuyu's neck. And then to you, as an aside: "If there isn't a better way to break in a toy."

When Tzuyu doesn't immediately reply, Sana leans over her, with a fingertip under her chin, guiding her hot, wet lips to the edge of your cock.

"Ask daddy to fuck his filthy little whore."

"Ah," Tzuyu lets out an awkward exhale. "Daddy?" she pauses to swallow, licking her lips, then, with just the slightest inflection, this tight line, right at the border, somehow managing to hit both notes of I'm going to make you beg for it and is it okay for me to be begging you for more: "Please, daddy. Fuck my face."

But then the way she fucking looks - petulant, needy, like if you don't shove your cock down her throat in seconds it could kill her - that's the realest thing you've seen from her since she shuffled through your front door wearing a dress that belongs in someone's heaving, pent up fantasy and left it in a careless pile in the middle of your foyer, tits bouncing on her way into the living room. And somehow, that's a lot to take in: to think this whole debacle has led up to her, this girl you're probably never gonna see again, pressing the pucker of her perfect, pretty lips to the underside of your cock, and -

"Open," Sana cuts in, "your fucking mouth."

Tzuyu gulps thickly and stretches her jaw, blinking expectantly as her pink, slender tongue sticks out the faintest, most insinuating inch.

You lift your hips with one good thrust, the plushness of her mouth becoming soft and velvet as she opens wider, and wider still, and you're balls deep, hilt hitting her lips as she opens her eyes, taking you down her throat, slick and slow.

"Good girl," Sana grins, watching Tzuyu swallow around you.

You may be buried into her throat but the sound of Sana's encouragement has Tzuyu keening, this wrench in her brow like she wants to focus so fucking badly. Only made worse when Sana bundles a handful of Tzuyu's long, glossy hair into a fist and gets her voice into the shell of her ear.

"I know you love it, Tzuyu, how he's fucking taking you, huh? That's it. Show daddy how good of a toy you can be."

And oh, the reaction - the very clear one, no less. Tzuyu grips onto the cushion of the couch, a full set of fingers curling around Sana's forearm, any part of you - the one closest and she's digging her sharp nails into your skin and whimpering for Sana to keep talking like her life depends on it.

"Let me see if you can be as good as you think you are," Sana murmurs, and you shift forward again, bucking your hips just barely but getting there, and then there's more, fuck - getting closer to a good steady pace. Slow, forceful. Hitting the very back of her throat, the bottom of her lips.

Tzuyu can only respond by taking you impossibly deep.

"Remember what you told me?" Sana's biting her lip, finding as much satisfaction out of the mere display.

"Mnnph," Tzuyu chokes out before slipping off your cock, only long enough to gasp for another breath, "I said, I said - all the things I would let him do to me." Her voice sounds so wrecked. Broken. Desperate. Filthy, the kind that needs to be fucked. "Please, please," she says again.

"Tzuyu." Sana's fist tightens in Tzuyu's hair, and down Tzuyu goes. "You sounded so sure, baby - when you said you'd making him fucking cum so easy, how you'd make him bust over and over with this mouth, so -"

You're getting too close. It's really not your fault, it's the two of them. Every wince on your face a result of Tzuyu's swollen, shiny lips wrapped tightly around your cock, cheeks flush and hollow with every move of her mouth. She keeps doing this little flick of her tongue as her lips slide around you - even while Sana lifts her jaw up, down, up down, fucking her mouth onto your aching cock with a sort of callous disregard for how it's fucking her up - how it's fucking you up.

"-the prettiest girls make the best fucking cumrags, you know. Really - makes your toes curl," Sana finishes, giving one particularly pointed tilt of her head at the sight of how bad your knees are shaking.

And then, out the corner of her mouth, teeth locked over her lip, because you're so caught up in how good it feels fucking your length through the vice of Tzuyu's mouth, sliding across her wet tongue - "she's not lying baby, is she? Fuck, I bet she feels so fucking good on you doesn't she" - her voice hoarse and desperate, a hint of something caught at the back of her throat like she can almost taste what it's like. What it must feel like.

Sana pushes, and even she can probably feel you pulsing at the way Tzuyu chokes when the tip meets the drain of her throat.

It gets... it ends up too much, too fast. Borderline abusive - and not just the speed, or the sheer roughness - Nayeon was here on her knees, like this, in the middle of the night not too long ago, and deepthroating you is far from the unusual or accomplished, at this point. But, fuck if that isn't something you build up to.

The slight curve of Tzuyu's arms, rising as they tremble with the effort, the little tears that slip down her cheeks, and those lovely sounds she makes. It's not at all intentional - and you're so stupidly certain Sana didn't think you'd be this riled so quickly, like there's not an ounce of willpower in the world that could save you at this point.

And while that's not too surprising on its own - Sana knows you well, this is what she agreed to - Tzuyu must have understood (it was part of the plan, in fact) what she was walking into, what she was signing up for. But fuck it: she was still pretty new, an amateur. And an amateur just wouldn't be capable of doing the things she does, and looking the way she looks, not to the same extent as this.

"Can you cum from nothing but the feeling of daddy's dick hitting your throat? I'll have him sit back and relax while we work," Sana tells her.

It'd make two of you.

"Would you like that?" she's asking you, tilting her head when you've gathered yourself long enough. "No touching, just take my orders while we pleasure you. How does that sound, daddy?"

"Sana, easy," you practically growl, biting down on the inside of your cheek because the twitch in Tzuyu's pulse has you coming far too undone, her chest hitching and lungs heaving and face wet with spit and tears and cum as it's spilling down her chin. You're seconds from telling Sana to dial it back when a low, guttural sound, sputtering, leaves Tzuyu's throat.

The grip in Tzuyu's hair goes loose enough that she pulls herself up, swallowing up as much air as she can.

And fuck, look at the damage: that swollen mess of her red, glistening mouth; the dark runs of mascara and drying tracks that make a ruin of her face, her neck; a heart-stopping shine of white drool. She blinks the tears off her lashes in a moment.

Sana’s eyeing her over the same way a surgeon might approach a task with a scalpel and a careful hand, or perhaps a fisherman surveying the quality of a catch - before tossing it to the back of a truck to be hauled back home. Like the kind of sight she gets just a little too much satisfaction at. And it's the eyebrow she shoots up into her mess of toffee-blonde hair that asks, quietly, too much?

Fuck. Maybe.

But Tzuyu's eyes shift toward Sana's, and without even an ounce of hesitation - without anything more than a heavy exhale - she opens her mouth again so you can see her tongue run across her top teeth, incensed in her lust. More, fuck me, have me, use me she's saying, telling with you the slight indignance in her eyes that Sana finds perfectly irresistible.

Then, as if unbothered by how far your cock had been slotted in her throat, she swallows. Says, "is that all, sir?"

And the sound that follows it, that shuddering sigh - breaking, cracking, shattering into the calm quiet of your apartment - Tzuyu takes you like it's more than enough. She's swallowing it all back down again.

“Fuck, Tzuyu, you’re-” you try, only to have her moan loud, so loud, when she drags her tongue down your cock and swallows around the whole thing in a way that has you gasping. Your hands end up wound tightly in her hair, weaving through the smooth waves, knuckles straining when it really sinks in. Just how deep down her throat you go, so perfectly deep, the stretch of her lips holding on the side of a grimace because she needs it that way. She can't have it any other.

"Go on," Sana murmurs into the side of your face, drawing closer so she's got her nails curled down into your thighs, leaning in to place a wet, hot kiss into your cheek. "C'mon baby, she'd told me she'd let you do anything - said she'd swallow everything, like the fucking cockslut she is."

Sana's chin digs against the bone in your shoulder, eyes unwavering on where you disappear over and over inside Tzuyu's throat. And it's not just that - Tzuyu's hair clenched tight in Sana’s one hand, the other curled hard into a fist around the base of your cock, her harsh breaths washing over the bare skin of your neck. It's fucking indecent, how needy she's gotten. How needy she always gets. You can feel her greedy little lips finding your ear and biting just shy of savage enough to break skin, and licking - flicking across the vein beating down in your throat, and then -

"That's right," Sana says with a low growl when you look at her. "Cum."

An impoverished sound rips right through your chest. Spreads through you like wildfire.

And just like that, you're spilling inside her, thrusts growing unsteady and lost in the wet, searing heat of Tzuyu's perfect, wet lips, slapping and sliding into her throat, spilling on her tongue with every surge of pleasure drumming in your blood.

Tzuyu sinks down further. So deep that the brush of the back of her throat feels like a hand on the hilt of a knife, tearing into the ends of your nerves, where they’ve come alight and been set ablaze.

Sana picks up again whispering into the cuff of your ear. It makes your head feel like it might explode. And you're almost entirely certain that's what will actually happen, when the combined pressure between your ears and that of your cock becoming so desperately spent builds and builds and doesn't stop, as though waiting.

Biding time for some perfect snap.

Only, a tickle at the back of Tzuyu's throat has her choking out. The same uncontrolled way your hips start to falter - shaky, jerky motions instead of any precision or rhythm - and you're tilting and winding your head in circles, jaw tensed, squeezing her scalp and oh, oh fuck. Tzuyu's mouth slides itself all the way off you in one hurried gasp, then two and three, just barely giving her a chance to steady herself, all while you're still leaking thick, white cum all over the slick swell of her bottom lip, up over the ridges of her elegant features, the curves of her cheeks, the high arches of her brows.

Look - you're cumming all over Tzuyu's face. You’re cumming all over her pretty face and she just takes it.

She's, fuck - she's so, so good. And not just because her mouth is fucking perfection, or her eyes are all at once bleary but wide open, watching you twitch, her own cheeks flushing as she stares up at you - trying desperately to breathe, taking a quick lick off the end of your cock, flitting her tongue between her knuckles, because apparently another taste can't hurt.

"Ugh," Sana hushes, right into your neck, "would you just fucking look, see that - god, Tzuyu, how does it feel, does he taste as good as you hoped he would?"

There's a subtle, unmistakable bob in Tzuyu's throat as she's swallowing everything down, the evidence, and a small flash of her tongue. "Good, mmn-" and you can see how she struggles in her restraint to simply say so, to let her hand drift to the 'V' between her thighs and sate that ache.

But even if her body seems ready for more, Sana's finger finds its way underneath Tzuyu's chin to prompt, with one, simple command, "let's get you cleaned up before we give you what you came for. Go on, get our little girl up to the shower, won't you daddy?"

It's a minor miracle the three of you make it upstairs and down the hall without so much as a trip or stumble, the girls with their fingers woven together and hips swaying as you all stagger up. It's a minor miracle you don't pin either of them against drywall or up against a doorway or do any of the number of filthy things on the mind of a man just fucked, still coming down, with two gorgeous, perfect faces - two perfectly sculpted asses - all in arms' reach.

The bath mat is still bunched at the back of your bathroom door. Still damp from the last shower - Sana's last morning here - which you have to pry apart just a little so the two of them can file in.

And well - it does happen. Eventually.

At the sink.

Just inside the en suite of your bedroom.

With Sana, being the way she is.

While the faucet in the shower starts up a shallow stream of water - tap running warm, steaming the length of the mirror and condensing the glass that Sana will soon have Tzuyu's face up against if she has any say in the matter.

"Tzu," Sana says, carding a hand through her hair and bringing a damp washcloth up to the bend of her jaw. There's a slow trace of fingertips across the lines of her neck. "Keep your eyes right on his while I clean you up, ok?"

And then there's the mirror in the center. The three of you arranged - a sort of hierarchy - with Sana stepping forward and adjusting her stance in order to survey, and clean the mess she's made. (What you've made.)

In profile, you can't exactly make out a distinct detail about Tzuyu's face in the reflective surface, only the silvery blur that is the curve of her neck, and the silhouette of the small frame that her long, slim legs form against the cabinet. But the idea's always the same - she's being used like a perfect canvas. Like an empty, ready-to-use doll that you can twist and turn in the ways you want until all your control breaks and you're just fucking into her, or having her lick and suck all over Sana's gorgeous fucking tits while she's bouncing in your lap.

Whichever happens to come first.

"You missed a spot," Tzuyu tells Sana, as though she hadn't missed several - her head tilts in your direction, eyes wide still, endless in depth. Her mouth gives away what's already burning its way through her blood. "Maybe another pair of hands will help?"

"Mine are a little rough around the edges," you explain, coming in close. The bathroom is this tight, congested space, but at the right angle there's plenty of room, even if your hips knock slightly into Sana's body. Tzuyu's delicate body already has her back flush against the sink basin. "You want to feel them?"

She shakes her head, and even though the hunger on her tongue hasn't been satisfied, even after having a good fill, there's something else she'd rather have now.

"I think," she starts, her words cut off by a hitch of breath when Sana's lips travel to the very tips of her hair and work their way up to the soft skin behind her ear. "Rough is good, when... when I'm being," Tzuyu's closing her eyes - partly so that she doesn't fall off the edge so easily, partly to lean into the sensations of two warm bodies, all attention placed solely on her.

"When you're being worked over?" Sana offers.

"Ngh," she responds - with an attempt, as best as she can, at a smile. And then there's one, light, teasing stroke across her jaw, her mouth. Sana's thumb pressed gently into the crease. "When the fucking gets..." and you'll have to fill the gap - finishing her thought with your hands slotting themselves onto the gentle arch of her hips, pressing a kiss that doesn't even come close to satisfaction on the supple dip of collarbone.

She lets out this pretty sound at the feel of your lips, Sana's, all ghosting down her throat.

"Hard and deep?" you say. Sana smirks at this - continues the effort, "A little fucking nasty, huh, sweetheart?"

"Mhm." Tzuyu is, above all else, a little helpless. “Because - you know me so well.”

But make no mistake: Tzuyu is exactly where she wants to be. With the heat radiating off her bare body, she leans into it all, only flinching when your teeth catch her nipple - when Sana's tongue laps a rough circle over the other. The scene, the feelings, all of it orchestrated precisely - these are the things she likes, maybe loves even.

And after the soft sounds slip through her lips, a moan and another hum, she finds her words and voice, "hard and deep and, rough and, ff-"

"And?"

The quick brush of your tongue flickers across the hard tip. The sensation draws from Tzuyu this very faint cry and the exhale of a word: "Fast."

"Naughty little thing," Sana presses into her jaw, pulling back to regard you both. To lift a finger, wet the pad with her tongue - and reach down, down, down until her fingertips brush the very line of her thigh, into the slick between her legs. "I love it when girls get all messy."

"Please," is all Tzuyu has to say, barely anything but, as Sana's finger drags slowly inside her folds.

"Patience baby," she murmurs into Tzuyu's open mouth. The exchange is swift but thorough; you watch, all tongue and spit, and your fingers twitch with a sense of loss. "Why don't you remind me how this went last time?"

"Mm, listen here," Tzuyu says in an astute breath, the sound of it like tables turning. There's a firm pull on your wrist - the grip on it guiding you, encouraging you, just where she wants them, into the band of lace around Sana's impossibly narrow waist. You feel Sana sigh in relief, shiver at the touch of a warm palm up against her thighs, and into a pulse-wet cunt, as though the slightest touch will kill her. "I think you might be remembering wrong, Sana."

"And why might that be?"

"Weren't you the one begging me? When I had two fingers up your cunt in your apartment," Tzuyu presses forward, voice lilt and darkening like ink, and Sana whines and crumbles in her palms, knees buckling when there's one sudden and rough slide of fingers right on the base of her spine.

"Yeah?" Sana asks with a rising blush, already knowing the answer - it's her fatal flaw: she's all sharp edges and pointed teeth, right up to the point there's a finger at her own throat, a cock in her hands and a girl working at her clit until she's drooling. "Are you suggesting I'm easy? Is that where you're heading with this?"

Tzuyu's leaned up against the counter, turning Sana's slender frame around in her hands, until she has her fingers up on the over the wire of Sana's bra, palms hot beneath the thin cups, feeling for her nipples, and the change in dynamic is as palpable as the steam rising in the room.

"Let’s not put words in my mouth," she responds simply, dropping another kiss into the back of Sana’s hair. There's another one laid along the sweep of her neck, like a careful bite, and with a lift of a brow, a look that tells you what you've always known, "but if you’re asking, then sure, the sluttiest of all sluts. Easy," she pulls the cups down Sana’s chest, "as fuck."

It gets to her, clearly, as if that moan falling out of Sana's parted lips could mean anything else.

"Daddy?" Tzuyu asks, because apparently she's enjoying the bit, easing into all parts of the character. She can't seem to contain her grin.

"What is it, sweetheart?" you ask, dipping your finger down into Sana's cunt, and fuck - the girl is so, so slick for it. She needs to be taken and torn, that much is clear. Her whimpers don't get softer as your hips drive into her stomach, pinning her between the two of you.

"Is she always this much of a bratty tease? Or is that just how she gets when she gets all worked up over your perfect cock. I know she's aching to feel it stretch out that tight little cunt of hers-

"It's never been all that clear," you answer, before Tzuyu can start to say anything further. A moment of composure, in case Sana wants you to step in.

Except that, she doesn't exactly interrupt the play you and Tzuyu are setting up: "So," Tzuyu remarks instead. "Just for me then."

"It's possible."

The room suddenly feels very full, very small.

"Right. Okay. Well then," you say - watching carefully, when Tzuyu gives you an appraising glance. Sana squirms again beneath the pressure of all these fingers printing over her sensitive skin - she'd love to fuck this. Or be fucked.

"That means you'll have to take good care of your needy little princess, won't you daddy?"

It's surprisingly fitting.

Though it hasn’t been that long, all things considered.

Not since Sana effortlessly waltzed her way into your life. And slightly less-than-that, the time it took her thereafter to find herself bouncing in your lap and tugging at your hair while you struggled for breath between her tits. This perfect storm, caught somewhere between laughing and choking and definitely, definitely falling.

It's been a year, maybe. If that. But that's plenty to know.

Know every tilt of her mouth, every sly grin. The different moans that shake loose from the curve of her lips.

Know what it means when Sana's palms hit the tiles of the shower wall, fingers splaying as she goes quiet and submissive, letting out the barest noise of frustration as Tzuyu spreads her tongue over the pucker of her ass - know that the knuckle you curl up in her cunt has her that much closer to unraveling in a stream of whimpers, needy fucking pants and a hoarse sound of gratitude.

Ostensibly for getting her so perfectly, perfectly raw.

"Fuck, yes, that," Sana barely manages, between the messy swipe Tzuyu's tongue makes over her hole. Just this thorough lick, drawing tight, swirling circles around her, lapping at the wetness before making a hot and steady pass over the sensitive stretch of skin, drenching it in spit until Sana's scrambling against the hard surface.

She's not close to going quiet: her cheeks look rounder, like she can hardly keep her noises under control as Tzuyu eases a single fingertip inside the tense muscle of her rim and uses the stretch and warmth of the water raining down her spine, to slip in deeper. Sana's sighing as Tzuyu eats her like an act, an invitation.

You push your fingers deep, deeper, slick, pulling, rubbing, coaxing Sana's mouth apart even as your lips press wet into her cheek. She groans louder, needier, with your hand flexing up a three-finger graze over that bundle of nerves. The kind that makes her back fucking arch.

"You," Sana sputters open like a struck match, burning bright in the steam-cloaked shower, "you, you, you," and it’s not really clear who she’s cursing, "going to - you're going to - you're going to make me-"

"Oh no," Tzuyu sings, starting to straighten herself out - until she’s reminding Sana that she’s the smallest of the three of you and in a possible sort of danger.

She reaches an open palm into the stream of water and splashes off the slick running down her mouth, her chin, her neck - gaze anchored to Sana's trembling figure. It's just one, heavy exhale into the hot, hazy air: "You've got it all wrong.”

Sana twists her head around, face still so wildly attractive amidst the look of worry and that flush of pink taking over from the bottom half. The tiny, imperceptible dip in her brows.

But before she can give voice to a complaint, Tzuyu has her spun by a rough grip around her waist, pinning her back to the tile - water beating down the rise of her breasts and the tops of her shoulders.

"If you're going to cum baby, it'll be all over his thick cock, getting your whole cunt so stretched and stuffed full it'll feel like he's cumming up inside your guts."

You and Sana share this wistful groan of a sigh after Tzuyu wraps her long fingers around your cock, aims you true, and brings you close. Closer. Until you can feel Sana's pulse at her cunt, lips wet and slippery and dripping, just a few inches from where the tip of your cockhead nudges the insides of her thighs. Sana's stomach is seizing in a fluttering of heat and -

"Do you like hearing her beg? That's good. Because this girl's gonna do everything she can to make sure you fuck her raw before you even let her come," Tzuyu's voice lowers, a deep register. "How long can you last, Sana?"

Sana gives you this look, all anticipation and pleasure, holding it for longer than is strictly necessary - and then, her pert little mouth falls open, keening, hissing out a shallow, almost painful, "fuck" the moment you bend at the knees and slip inside.

The feeling that washes over you is a beautiful elixir of relief, an indomitable kind of want, tinged with something heavier, and with just the tiniest hint of longing in the sense that this is not enough, nowhere near enough. It never is.

"God, Sana," is all you manage. All you want to.

Sana doesn't wait around any longer before giving you an impatient shimmy of her hips, fucking herself further down the length of your cock, like she wants to choke on it. And the feeling of it, well, she does it well - the tight warmth swallowing you to the base, her cunt squeezing you all at once, slick and smothering. Fuck, it's all in her eyes. How badly she wants to be held down, split apart. How tightly your fist finds itself locked around Sana's long, wet strands of golden hair as Tzuyu closes any semblance of distance - brushing her lips over where she can tease Sana's open and slack mouth, licking down inside, panting.

"Baby, you are so close, I can feel you trembling," Tzuyu teases, running her fingers up Sana's stomach, cupping steady the breast she can fit in her palm. She drops another messy kiss on Sana’s throat and hums: "Go ahead, cum. I'm sure he doesn't mind.”

"You're such a prissy fucking- nnh-" Sana's words skirt right over Tzuyu's fingertips before they're shoved roughly across the swell of her lower lip and into the back of her mouth. If Tzuyu's intent was to prove a point, she's about as successful as can be - Sana can only gag quietly around her digits, working her jaw over them.

"Sana, shh-shh-shh, baby, don’t fight it; just cum around around his cock, don't put yourself in a corner and try to play games - he'll fuck you right, until you scream, I promise, and-"

It hardly ever takes much. That's something you've come to appreciate: Sana can't ever help it. With the way it actually feels, you pressing right up against where the rest of her cinches so impossibly tight. She was practically teetering on the edge, on the very cliff and within reach of falling right off of it the instant you fit the very hilt of your cock up the molten-hot stretch of her perfect cunt, sliding, fucking into her while water sprays all over her quivering body, so soft beneath the wash of rain.

One of Sana’s long legs gets wrapped around your waist and you can feel her nails start to dig through the muscles in your shoulders.

Tzuyu smirks right into Sana's temple, biting at the slickness of her skin, running the curve of her thumb around the length of Sana's jugular, and sucking with her teeth when Sana cries out. "How does our girl feel wrapped around you? Wet, huh? Needy?"

"Unbelievable," you answer honestly - and maybe that's the point; Sana's pussy is incredible. Hot and silky and absolutely unreal. There’s no question, whether she's a work of art, or if she'll fuck you up, but you love that part.

“Ruin her for me, won’t you?” Tzuyu prompts, with that twinkle of mischief you're rapidly becoming accustomed to. "She looks even prettier when she's fucked out. I know you know that."

She does, she does, she does.

Your hips snap, up, fuck in - Sana mewling around the shape of Tzuyu's first two fingers - then back, drawing the motion slow, long, full - until you’re crashing forward and sinking up into that warmth you know is spreading across every inch of Sana’s body, swallowing her up inside-out as her legs start to shake and give and her tongue laps recklessly along the outline of Tzuyu's knuckles.

Sana knows she likes to play at coy and control, but this is never part of the act - your cock fucking her submissive pussy apart - it’s hard to argue she doesn’t love how you can come to own her: hot and fast and filthy, leaving her breathless and desperate, every thrust into her tight cunt punctuated with some pretty whimper. And here, she just… there isn't the luxury, there's nowhere to hide.

Nowhere to run or shy or look away.

Tzuyu curses when finally Sana bites down, part of a long sequence of reflexes that bloom from the depth you fuck up into her cunt. And with her voice back in her throat (Tzuyu's fingers shaking out the sharp pain) she fucking whines into it, unable to stop the steady line of nonsense tumbling past her lips, incoherent except for the single-minded purpose of her own release.

"Fuck, daddy, fuck," Sana repeats in the same way she always does, getting fucked, the letters collapsing into each other. "I'm cumming, fuck, fuck, so fucking wet. God, you're, fuck, right there, oh - I'm cumming, daddy, I’m fucking cumming," is the all further she gets, muddied with the sound of your slicked-up thighs moving in quick rhythm with the beat of your heart, slapping loudly against her skin - loud enough so that the neighbors can probably listen in through paper thin walls.

Then she goes silent, face painted with it all. She isn't crying, the tears won't come, but she's gone this quiet sort of wide-eyed that matches the way she's mouthing, cumming, over and over, you’re pulling me a-fucking-part.

And you believe her. You have to.

Just look at the way her legs are doing all the wrong things. Thighs tensing taut, muscles giving out - she’s slipping down the tiles, back bending and flexing and going limp all at once. Tzuyu's already moving, scooping her up like it's something rehearsed, before you even have to ask, "Tzu, help me hold her up, won't you?"

“Tzu, huh?”

It's not much, but it is worth noting: how Tzuyu, her fingers curling and interlacing between Sana's, holds the girl like she's breakable. Tenderly, cradling Sana's small body against her chest.

"Do you slip into pet names and all that with every girl Sana brings around? Or am I," and when Tzuyu tilts her head, her smile has this very palpable bite, "the exception?"

"Every pretty girl thinks they're special, sweetheart."

Tzuyu just glimpses one downward look into Sana, shivering, riding her orgasm down into nothing, and drops a kiss into her hair. A gentle chuckle: "And when have I ever given you a reason to doubt it?"

"Shameless," is all Sana offers up, beyond exhausted, trying and failing to take more than a passing, somewhat disgruntled interest in the scene unfolding around her, while she clings to the strength Tzuyu and the tile and your hands are putting into her body.

Meanwhile Tzuyu, this devil of a daydream - this tall, skinny thing of long hair and smirking lips and cheekbones as sharp as her wit, has her gaze locked. Still curious, and all but relentless - there's more she's dying to say. It seems almost impracticable that such a lovely woman would really be this way, weapons concealed under all that good-girl charm. And in its most uncomplicated form, that's what it is: an open invitation.

You've only managed the vaguest outlines, after all. "Do you mind?" you ask again.

The next movements feel more elegant than they probably are. Cradling Sana's limp body between you, finding a steady hold.

There’s a slight shuffle to discover a proper balance, a hand slapping the glass of the shower door, and yeah, Sana's fucked out. Slurring out sounds that might resemble the shape of words if she had the presence of mind. The rest are whines and whimpers, obscene in all ways.

“Baby,” Tzuyu tells Sana in a growling kiss to the back of her ear. "Keep your fucking legs up."

(That’s a cue if you were looking for one, to get your arms fastened around Sana's small waist as she leans heavy into your chest.)

"More," The girl in your arms starts to complain, when you truly start fucking her.

"Hurt - hnn, please, more - fuck - harder," and all those sharp edges, that arrogance and conceit, it's all gone. Her pupils are blown out, an animal-like-desire set in its place - these are your invitations to wreck her, you realize, pushing so deep into her well-fucked cunt that she arches, and that her head knocks against Tzuyu's, that the small room is entirely empty save for these movements under the metal cloud of shower water, falling like rain.

This is all there is.

Tzuyu, smirking like she herself might get off on this.

Sana, begging.

And when Tzuyu buries a hot smile at her throat, nibbling at the skin - urging her, urging you, this sharp, "now give her the fucking dicking of a lifetime, will you?"

When Sana’s reduced down to her pleas of, please, harder daddy, and deeper, god, I can feel you so deep -

Well,

You’re all instinct. You sink your fingers into the firm skin of her ass, grab at the soft, slippery flesh around her hips. You sink your cock into her hole again and again.

The stretch is obvious and absolutely devastating, making Sana cry out and muffle her face in your shoulder. She makes a weak sort of sound around your neck - it could be anything, maybe please don't stop, or maybe please do - it doesn't matter.

"You look incredible like this baby, does he fuck you well?" Tzuyu croons, curling around her so her head rests on her shoulder - eyes watching Sana, meeting yours. "Oh, come on, aren't you always telling me about how it makes you feel - all this, full and hot and better than anyone? Now's your chance, no hiding from him. Or me."

"It's so, god it's - I -"

"Come on," Tzuyu squeezes out one long, eager moan with her hand dropped onto Sana's breasts, pulling and kneading like she owns it. "Tell him to cum in you baby, like the good fucktoy you are, let him cum up into that creaming pussy until you’re all sticky and leaking cum all over, just the biggest fucking mess."

There is measurable irony, you suppose, in how Sana brings these friends of hers back with the clear expectation to be fucked and torn apart, how they each want the same, all wanting to get her unraveling and her knees buckling. Only Tzuyu manages, more efficiently than anyone you've ever seen, to leave her all wanton and squirming against your hard, relentless thrusts into her needy cunt.

It's easy: this isn't difficult, there is nothing hard about falling for each and every promise her face has to offer - knowing her body's secrets and drawing the story out, line by line, so you can fall in love with it over and over, all while Sana starts to go helpless at the shape of your cock filling up that tiny, wanting cunt.

So you cum. Inside her. In one final push, filling her completely.

Sana opens her mouth like she's trying to say something - say yes - say daddy, say fuck yes daddy.

"That's it," Tzuyu strokes down Sana's belly. "I knew it - now keep your pretty thighs shut. Can't let even a drop out, understand?"

"Yes, fuck. It's - fuck - good, he feels," Sana finally sobs, chest heaving as you grind the last little bits of cum deep, so far and hot as it can get. All the way in. Where it's hot and wet and throbbing and slick.

Where it should stay, because you never pull out. You savor the last bit of your pulse, sporadic and lethargic. Because in truth - your mind is made and your mouth won't say it because you don’t need to.

Tzuyu's wringing the water out of Sana's hair, picking the strands into careful folds. "Alright then," and her grin is positively lecherous.

There's a bench in the corner of the shower where you eventually arrive, panting now that you realize it, and Sana makes herself at home right in your lap, face buried in your shoulder. Grinding her hips down in this almost imperceptible circle, circling back and feeling. Holding you inside and murmuring into your collarbone.

(Fucked, Sana is simply and unfairly beautiful.)

It’s all in that exhale of a moment, when Tzuyu catches water in cupped palms from the shower-head, wiping away what stray tracks of soapiness left on Sana's shoulder-blades and breasts and thighs. Her hands all up and down her body, sudsing the crease between leg and torso, down lower still, around her sensitive pussy and her folds.

You wonder if she can hear you swallow.

"Maybe we should actually wash up before we go again?"

The first thing Sana's free hand goes for when she stumbles through the threshold of your bedroom is a hair band you didn’t know she was storing in the top drawer of your dresser. She fidgets around keeping her towel wrapped tightly around her chest as though modesty were an option at this point.

"What?" she asks, fixing you with a slightly-irritated, slightly-teasing smirk. "You look like you have something you want to say."

"Nothing." You laugh out loud. "It's nothing. I'm just waiting."

She makes this face at you, guilty - so sorry about the contraband - as she twists her wrists and pulls the hair band round her middle-finger, wrapping her palms around her knot of wet blonde and bundling it into a half-assembled ponytail. It leaves the length of her nape exposed and vulnerable, neck flushed pink-from-showering in all the most wonderful of places.

"Waiting," is what she hones in on.

Tzuyu is pulling out of the bathroom. Her hands, washed clean and dried off with a fluffy, off-white towel. When she sets it down, she steps back, leaning on the frame. "He's waiting, for what I wonder?"

She's made of all things smooth-and-sharply-cut. Even from here, even through the sleep-haze fog, the silhouette of her nude figure gives itself to a small sense of anticipation. The long and smooth sweep of her chest, from breast, up and out, and then tapering along down to where her hips flare. She takes a step and then another and lets her fingers ride her side, from the very top of the shallow indentation in the dip of her waist, up. Then the tautness of her abdomen and further still, running slow and over the breast, coming to cup its full weight, pushing the bottom of the curve outwards.

"Waiting to," and she wets her lips in something akin to expectation. "Pound me into the fucking bed?"

You’re smiling when you explain, "I was going to say a request…"

Tzuyu’s dimples deepen. "You mean, like, we can tell you what to do?”

You sit on the bed, which is actually more of a proposition than you realize. "I suppose."

"Sana, sweetie, is there something I should be doing for him," Tzuyu looks up, wearing that trademark kind of playful expression that is definitely deliberate and not at all a tell. "Or maybe I've got this all wrong and you know exactly what you want."

"Well," you manage in reply, sounding surprisingly sane. "Don't both start coming forward with any ideas you have no intention of following through."

"And what if I have no ideas at all? What would you tell me then," is the challenge you find hanging around the slender outline of Tzuyu's wrists, and then at the back of her fingers, as she cards her hands through her hair and pulls it prettily over rise-and-falls of her collarbones, until it's barely curtaining her breasts.

(Barely.)

She crosses over to the bed - to you and Sana - and without much other movement than that, finds a knee on either side of you to let a lone fingertip skirt the tops of your hips. Flirting with the towel around your waist.

"For the record," Tzuyu says, flicking a glance at Sana and leaning down into your jawline. The palm she slides over your thigh is so warm, so promising of its heat and pressure you'd swear you can almost taste the touch of her. "I never, ever go back on my word."

"Try me," you tell her.

"I do have some, ideas." Every time her fingernail ends up between her teeth, it’s another drop in a well that runs god knows how deep. "Though very few of them involve this towel."

“And about the ones that do?”

"Well," Tzuyu starts to purr - reaching a hand down and spreading the flat of her palm on your chest, "I figured if I ever wanted something to bite down on, well, you know."

It's just a subtle little rock - and the perfect view: she starts like this, her hair all tucked behind one shoulder, the arch of her back lifting. Slow at first, Tzuyu only pausing after every other short breath to lick and kiss your lips with hers, and the edges of her teeth, all soft and insistent. You are sure - that with a subtle twitch, a minor jerk of the knee or hip - she is almost right over the perfect place, and when her hips grind in these micro-friction little motions that have her sighing and pushing herself flush, it's clear that all she's looking to do is rub her cunt down all over the erection you've been holding in since the last time your towel was hanging somewhere above your waist.

"Hold, please," Sana interrupts, when she leans over and plucks something out of the messy contents of the nightstand - a few hair clips, and, more importantly, a condom. She swears aloud when the package tears the wrong way, but she's quick to apply a lip balm-slick finger-tip on the inside of the ring, and hands the thing to Tzuyu by way of a passing roll, "so, I assume you've got this under control."

"Give me that."

"Mm. Have at it."

There is an intrusive thought that finds its place, wedged somewhere at the base of your skull when Tzuyu starts the careful act of lowering herself down your shaft - like this, it has an inevitability - a forward momentum, the familiar sense of excitement building a force in your heartstrings. Sana must have a similar sensation, as she scoots her ass and slides one hand over the same place you feel that force thrumming, her palm reaching right for Tzuyu's ass, while Tzuyu hisses out a tiny sound at the added stretch.

"Careful," Sana says, fingers drawn back from the cleft of Tzuyu's beautiful ass with a string of slick that's unmistakably arousal. "You try going back after having his cock. And trust me, there's nothing to go back to. Like, ever."

"That must be why you're always like this," is Tzuyu's cock-sure comeback, finding herself flush with your hips.

You're biting down. You're holding back. You're probably digging nails into your palms hard enough to break skin, because you could be double, triple wrapped, latex running up your length like a goddamn balloon and you'd still feel the hot, melting perfection of Tzuyu's pussy swallowing your cock in one, slick, seamless motion. There isn't any sound either more pleasing than that hitch-groan-slip you hear as Sana helps guide Tzuyu's hips back, forth, back again and to a steady beginning of this proper pace: smooth and full.

You both need a second, because, fuck - and she's biting into a grin. Eyes already half lidded as the speed builds. As Tzuyu starts really enjoying the drag of it, the feeling. The god-damn-fucking-stretch.

"Oh? Like what?" Sana asks, smirk filling out her lips to bridge the silence you're both groaning into. "Like what?"

"Greedy," Tzuyu says. The only part that really needs to get filled in. "Because he fucks the self-control right out of you."

Now Sana lets that settle, and it's not like she doesn't know. Or doesn't understand. And still, "Mm. That does sound like me, doesn't it, daddy?"

(Yeah, well- you- )

Tzuyu watches you watch what happens next: Sana peeling out the cotton slip of her bath towel - sizing up just how good Sana looks. Fuck-me-raw.

And then she laughs, deep and gorgeous. "Didn't he just do a number on you - hn, god. Can you hear him all up inside me? Fucking, splitting me apart."

It's true.

All of it.

The way Tzuyu rides your cock. Faster, faster, rolling her body and drawing her hands together behind the length of her hair and neck until the point of her chin is upturned, showing off the hollow of her throat. A tension that glitters with sweat.

The tightening in the space between the bottom of her ass and your cock - all of it is heaven. This slow-and-rough, rough-and-fast. Tzuyu picks the tempo of it to fuck out a particular pleasure that has you catching her and pulling her closer to your body, holding her through the upward grind, where your cock meets the heat of her cunt - pressing her closer.

That's it.

Possessive. That's what both girls have the good grace to read.

Sana's hands come up Tzuyu's ribs, fingertips skirting the muscle-taut-surface of her stomach, the bumps and grooves of her ribs, and up further still, riding the path of her breasts as they're bobbing-jostled and going full-on heavy - her thumbs go at her nipples. Rolling around the hardened tips - the faintest tug at them, enough to start to pull - then just teasing them between thumb and forefinger and loving the sight of you wincing. Loving that you love that.

"She's pretty, isn't she?" Sana laughs.

"It's a real show," you bite the compliment out. The very least you can get to.

(You'll be fucked if you can hide how much you want to stay buried in this girl and cum a fucking waterfall between those perfect, creamy thighs. Oh, she knows. The dirty little smile, the filthy laugh, you're holding tight - even if the act is useless.)

"Like how she clamps down," she hums. "That's the part I've always loved, you know. She just does everything so slow, so fucking good, so... deliberate."

There's a fist in Tzuyu's hair and no trace of sympathy or self restraint in her friend when Sana tells her, "Baby, ride him slow for me, can you do that?"

When Tzuyu sucks a hiss through her teeth, mouth caught around the sharp intake, Sana just licks a slow line along the curve of her lower lip - as though saying, baby, like the slut you are, remember who asked nicely?

And it turns out: slow is worse. You can feel every tiny tremor of friction, every little shift of Tzuyu's cunt squeezing you. Clinging tightly. Your fingers wrap around her rib cage and hold her right as her ass hits your lap, while her head rolls back into her own hair. It is enough, finally, to draw an out-of-breath little pant out of her, making a beautiful blush crawl and spread across her cheeks - there.

(Oh, fuck, your brain echoes. So, you want slow, that's what the noise from your throat says as she eases back, rising up. So slow, you-can-feel-all-of-me. She makes the effort so flawlessly, it's fucking you both over, because she's looking at Sana with this flutter-beat look, eyes wide, wet and round and pleading.)

It gets that much worse the minute Sana pushes her down by the shoulders. Giving her some resistance. Showing you both she can take you inch by slow goddamned inch.

"Harder. Deeper, sweetie."

Tzuyu does everything Sana says she'll do, loving her fingers in her hair, pulling tight. Control given as easily as that. Because she looks just how she feels: utterly surrendered. A helpless kind of want, like there's something broken in her chest when the head of your cock pushes her deep, deep. To the point she feels something more than an ache.

"Want it," Tzuyu whispers out against Sana's smile. "From the back, like you promised," she says, and takes the shudder out of your breathing.

Sana cups her jaw, laughing. She puts one arm around Tzuyu's throat and bites at her chin, at her ear. "I bet he'd do just about anything to give you what you want, baby."

Tzuyu’s hips snap down onto yours again. Melting your cock in this thick, molten heat.

And again, faster. Needier.

The kind of movements across your lap that make everything louder - a beautiful chorus of small-sounds. Slaps and squelching. Wet and gasping and begging and skin-on-skin. You'd never, ever considered the act a competition before, not with Sana. But when Tzuyu seems to be seeing who can pull the most erotic of noises out from underneath your ribcage - or the highest pitched sigh - the wetter and louder it all gets -

"Sana."

"Tzu."

Tzuyu rides the pressure and finds her voice, head thrown back, jaw slack. "Sana - tell him to, I'm gonna, soon. Tell him what to do."

"Beg for him," and Sana gives her the fakest-of-all-pouts when she slips her hand along Tzuyu's inner thigh, nearing her where the two of you meet, then slowing her pace, bringing you both to an immediate stand-still, while her fingertips continue, ghosting across the shape of your stomach. "He doesn't need anything less than the truth."

Tzuyu's face. It's the most gorgeous thing you've seen. Her hips are winding slow against you when you hit a spot you're not entirely sure either of you can recreate at your own whim: deep inside. Her eyes as wide as they can be. All of her sharp edges now just these subtle things - the very shape of the shadow beneath her clavicle, the tensing of her thighs at your sides, the gentle lines that curl up from the wide bottoms of her hips when your fingers thread up her belly, palm open flat.

"I want," is where Tzuyu starts, not hiding it any part. "I want you to bend me over the bed."

And in a breathless voice:

"Please, please let me have what I want. Just bend me over the bed, shove my legs apart and take me. Hold me down. Fuck me and fill me and don't let me move or say a thing. Until we're both fucking finished."

You swallow. Hard.

Because here's what Sana's brought you: this tall brunette with an impossibly beautiful ass and thighs to die for, a sin-full mouth. The curves in her waist and back and tits a distraction, that you might try to map out until you're so lost you forget how to leave, how to ever take your cock out of this tight cunt.

"Is that a thing you can do?" Tzuyu practically purrs in one long tone, pushing herself up your waist, until your cock falls out and hangs there. Until you can only see all of this clear, gorgeous skin in front of you and hear her pretty little moan. "God, please, daddy, I’m begging you."

(She says this last part in a way that lets you know this isn't something either of you will get over easily, the kind of pleasure, the feeling and the flash. She's unreadable - almost, not quite- just too honest, there's nothing else for you to believe. Maybe that's where the shiver comes from, or your palms itching, or the sounds of your bedding ruffling as you spin her onto her back, her tummy - pull up on her hips until they're sky high and you can palm her breasts, let her press her knees up and apart on the duvet. Until you get that first look down the column of her spine and the sudden, stunning shape of her ass in a view you never want to say goodbye to.)

Tzuyu slides her hands across your sheets, all this stretch. A flex of muscle. When she opens her hips and you push two fingers deep, inside, easy - then back out -

"How much of that," Tzuyu interrupts, blushing furiously, "do I have left to beg with? Please."

- because she's been soaked and aching all day just thinking about it. Just begging for a good fucking - or so she told Sana, who now giggles and leaves small kisses up the ridge of her spine, crawls alongside the dip-line of the mattress, and after curling her fingers around the column of Tzuyu's throat - smooths a single fingernail up and down and presses, tracing, the groove of her jaw as you nudge your cock against her.

It’s not on purpose, this needlessly drawn-out moment - simple brush of latex against her slick, dripping folds, the tightening in her core and how it matches the tension in Sana's wrist and the coarseness of the bed-linens and the hardness of you - but everything eventually folds, into her.

And you're not helping, the way you're fastened to the narrow point of her waist like it's a handle. Your thumbs riding the arch of her hips, taking every opportunity to sink your fingers hard into the flesh, grip tighter and push, pulling Tzuyu, if only to really work that friction between your hips.

"Fuck, it's all in. Finally." Sana gasps like she's the one being bent, arched, fucked from behind, then lays herself down against the length of Tzuyu's shoulder, chin bumping her cheek. Watching Tzuyu. Taking it all in.

You have a hard time making it out, but Tzuyu starts this half-whimpered litany about how she needs to be fucked (that is, roughly - deep and long, or maybe rough and short and deep, or whatever, as long as it makes her lose composure), followed with some shoddy mix of cursing and your name and Sana's - the things all three of you might consider for another chance meeting.

And as you're following up the suggestion with a low groan, that's exactly how you notice that grind in her hips - a jerk back, a twist, bucking against you. She feels so, so incredibly tight when she writhes onto you, squeezes. Like she wants to tear her heart out her chest, she's so overwhelmed. So thoroughly and totally taken by this fuck. By you. "Harder," is all she says.

This one line does it, then two more. All in-and-out thrusts from behind, fuller the second time, then the third.

Only when you find Tzuyu peering back over her shoulder with a pair of eyes that say, please, pretty-please, all liquid and warm and wanting. "Fucking ruin that cunt, I want - god. Do you have the slightest idea how much," and that is where the words disappear into a slow and sticky whine.

"Yeah baby," Sana whispers.

She knows what it is. Tzuyu wants so much more, so you give it. Give her the just-this-side-of-ruthless fucking and the slow-pace grind you know can push her right over the edge. Give her more, all of you, and get her hands twisting in the pillow and grabbing fistfuls of sheets, burying her face into the space above her wrists and nearly choking on her hair with how she moans and yelps - loud.

Her whole body jolts forward the next time. The arch to her back deepening. Body drawing in on a flawless line.

Tzuyu does cum. Eventually.

She keens and rolls and begs you not to pull out or slow, just stay put and fill her with your cum - keep fucking going, please. The only thing keeping her from landing flat on your mattress as she practically unravels around your cock are fingers you have under her hips, tightening. Bruising.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me, you’re,” you’re railing out of her lungs, where the words hang on sex-stale air.

First with Sana whispering promises into her ears and letting Tzuyu swallow, and suck around the length of her index, then two, fingers. Then licking a kiss into her mouth, tongue tangling up hers and finishing up the act with, "cum for us, Tzu, like the sweet girl you are - you take him so well."

Then, with your hand held over her ass-

(She could cry from it. From how everything pulls you in, like a riptide, and, really, with no regard for things like safety or drowning.)

-the utterance off her lips has your stomach twisting into knots:

"Keep," you hear her ask Sana. Barely getting the words out as you ride, fast. "Please, keep, telling him that I - god."

It gets worse before it gets better.

"I can't - I need; fuck, I can’t, with the rubber, I want him," and Sana smirks like she knew all along. "Sana, please-"

"You want the real thing, sweetie. Isn't that right, baby? Hm. Of course it's okay," and Sana soothes a hand through her friend's fringe, pushes it away from her eyes and over her ears, making something that sounds like an adoring laugh slip out. "You want him to fuck his cum so deep in that pussy, I know you do, don't worry."

When you slow down the grinding, wipe the sweat from your face, Sana gets your attention and nods to the very place your cock is disappearing between the cheeks of Tzuyu's ass, "go ahead. If you want the mess-up, sweetie - let's make sure that's exactly what he'll give you."

Who exactly wants what most is hard to say. Sana's the one pulling off the condom, the rubber stretching to an obscene limit that has you fearing for your life should it snap back before it breaks. Tzuyu is already a sort of gaping mess with it all, her own fingers snuck under to rub harsh circles in the absence of cock and something firm and heavy to fill her. To feel full.

And there's you, asking, or maybe, double-checking: "Tzuyu, you're saying you want me to-"

"She doesn't care," is what you're interrupted with, courtesy of Sana. "Fuck a baby into her cunt, that's what she wants."

(Like you wouldn't fucking love it too. Or have the frame of mind to even begin to unpack all of that.)

It’s a lot, admittedly.

And not just because Tzuyu has never looked better: on all fours, pressed, and presented. Legs all the way apart and ass and thighs in your grip, with that smile all pointedly certain and wild-eyed, like, she knows, that you know exactly what to give her - what she really wants - filling her so full and marking your claim by fucking your cum right to her very core.

Tzuyu drags her head back, so she can peek over her shoulder and meet your eyes.

She does things. Like sighing this small sound and laughing and - she has this thing for noises, for things breaking under the strain, where she won't say a word, except to murmur some part of your name into your jawline, a raggedness in her breathing. Sheer hunger.

"I want - want you to, fuck me."

You will. Or you are. Or you're going to, only - Sana's lips are fast around your cock, fingers fluttering delicately between your thighs and drawing these stuttering sounds in your breath, "I will. I will. I'm - I will."

Sana just hums, copper hair bobbing in place. Her hot mouth and wet fingers pulling and sliding and pulling and sliding. Tongue moving in all the ways she knows you like.

Which, here’s a fact: Sana can be mean. No one would believe it.

But sometimes this is the price of admission. You have to be honest about what it takes, how, exactly, you intend to break this beautiful brunette whose ass is swaying back and forth in this mesmerizing little waggle of the hips. It's hard not to marvel, not to ask questions and not wonder at what a pair of friends so similar and so opposite do to each other and other people and to themselves in those small, private hours and space no one else shares, that has you panting and burning and her clasping the hollow of your neck and asking with her body if this is okay, because sometimes, in moments of absolute need, just a glance can mean your end.

So, there's no tease; Sana is well aware of what it feels like when you're throbbing and ready to burst - she's working you up and over and right to that point of no return-

"Can I? Fucking-"

"Fine," she replies, maybe having now considered every other way you might spill a hot load out and make a mess of the sheets. "Have at her," and a flick of tongue catches around the tip of your cock - the final tease, the best punishment.

And the promise of how Tzuyu makes that perfect whimpering cry. Something entirely wounded. Because as soon as it begins - your cock in the shallow depth of her creaming cunt - you're both made aware how she's wetter than she was an hour ago and clenching at nothing, hands balling themselves in frustration, palms bunched white-knuckled up in fists. She needs something, anything. Something for her to squeeze against. For her to bear down on and bounce her cunt off-

The sound all three of you make when you grit your teeth and bury yourself deep into her pussy is a guttural, aching thing, with you biting a lip and gasping. Tzuyu half-growling-half-sobbing into the sheets.

It doesn't matter that she lets Sana cover her open and slack mouth in an attempt to quiet it.

It doesn't matter because in a blink, the exact point in which you sink completely inside - where it's the first, the best, feeling of Tzuyu’s hot pussy taking your cock.

(Mind-numbing, is the word that doesn't come to you.)

Under you, Tzuyu is writhing and hot and tight into the mattress - and so desperate.

"Please," is about all that gets away from her. Which is just too cute to ignore: she's been dying to be fucked, ever since stepped into your foyer and was introduced by the softest, most deliberate of gestures that wound up being all-too intimate. "Please- I need - harder, fucking-"

Sana takes to touching you, her own little form of enjoyment that ends with her fingertips mapping the shape of your jaw. Pupils blown, "Isn't she amazing?" Sana laughs into your neck.

"Fucking," is what your first real stroke back into Tzuyu pulls out, “unreal."

The friction has you both grinding your bodies together at the base, and she arches, this throaty moan, before looking back up at you and letting her mouth fall open - this wordless sentence of plea, over and over again. She's shaking. Body-full. It's almost something painful to see, that she's so undone - and what if you were the only person who'd ever fucked her like this: into ruin.

Tzuyu clenches around the next thrust - begging, so-sore-and-begging to cum.

The demand is practically written in her muscles, and all you want is for her to let go for the second, third, last time - until she loses track of the count. To get there before you have the time to register that she is actually doing it. She's already half-way gone and at your mercy - her only choices now, being: cum, or let you chase the orgasm you're currently rubbing all around the curve of her cunt.

Sana swallows her scream when the first little cry comes, that you've edged out of her. And it gets worse and better the second time her ass meets your thighs, where she's making a real mess on your hips and all but yelling out her orgasm in her state of such incoherent stutter and disarray. The arch to her back is this thing out of your best imagination, which has you - pounding out all her noises - gripping and curving over the plane of her stomach. Until Tzuyu's beginning to make these different cries, somewhere new, somewhere you're finding a whole lot deeper.

"Hold her ass up and fuck her 'til she's full of cum," is the advice you get from Sana in the end, as you fuck her and fuck her through the tumultuous rise and fall of orgasm after orgasm, "oh baby, does it hurt so good? Do you feel that heat spreading down your thighs and getting you all slick? You always knew the best toys are the ones that get bred, sweetheart."

And from her, barely, "fuck, yes."

That's what does it: the desperation just that tangible in all your voices.

Sana manages to get her lips on yours. A kiss that could knock the wind out of your sails under normal circumstances, one that curls a fist and tugs around a familiar part of you. But Tzuyu's eyes roll and drop low, fluttering shut, while your hips crash in quickening succession:

"Fuck-you're so-perfect, cum in me again, daddy - make me," and, "please, so fucking full, just give me more. Want more of you, until it's-"

Tzuyu gets you. Just there. Just the way you needed it. Just like that.

There's something addictive in how her muscles clench and grab around the head of your cock - drawing everything you'd been holding back to a painful front, and - Sana's taste in your mouth still so sweet, mixed with salt and sweat, while you fuck and pound, with absolutely zero respite. Cum buried deeper and deeper until it's spilling and Tzuyu whines for the filthy feeling. Until you're fucked through, emptying every single drop into her open cunt. Until your legs feel sore, a slight shake all through the muscle and the tension in your neck and shoulders, and you're growling this thing that might be her name, and "Tzu, my god, baby, you feel, so amazing," in between thrusts.

It earns you an appreciative whimper.

Something breathy and not-at-all restrained. She doubles down on it when your cock slides out of her swollen, well-fucked cunt.

At first, she only hums a sleepy smile and turns her face in toward the touch, eyes closed and unresponsive. A long exhale. Even like this - especially, perhaps - Tzuyu is lovely.

Either out of exhaustion or overbearing satisfaction, you collapse into her - bodies folding up like that old-cliche about a stack of cards or dominoes - with your cheek to her back and your arms wrapping around her chest, tight, trying to squeeze. Like you're hugging someone from behind. Which isn't too far off. Because for the next five or ten or fifteen minutes or a half-hour, you lie there, pressing your face in against the side of her neck, smelling her hair - how sweet the strands are - then down along her shoulders, and under, listening to the soft way Tzuyu falls into her breaths.

In, out. In, out.

Sana follows all the while with, "should we not have let her ride, first?"

To which, Tzuyu says, "fuck off."

Sana brushes it off, crawls around your shoulders and slips two, three, five kisses into your forehead. That's when you know to shuffle over, dragging and tugging limbs and muscles and bone in the same direction - careful not to let the sticky sensation linger anywhere it shouldn't. Not even for an instant.

The three of you are laying in a total fucking mess. But it's your mess, and that's beautiful in a sort of thought-provoking poetic way.

You turn your head. Tzuyu's there, still, blinking slowly.

"Hello again, hi," you say and the smile comes up all sorts of natural. "Okay?"

Her gaze shifts into something vague, so much quieter, but she nods. So it must be. Okay.

“Is it too early?” Tzuyu asks two weeks later, and nothing has ever, ever started like that.

She’s at your doorstep, a little too dressed up for the middle of the afternoon, hair pulled away from her face in two loose braids, bright eyes, lip-gloss that shimmers just enough. Something innocent in the whole way she looks and stands and smiles. Nothing, on the surface, that gives the truth away.

You lift an eyebrow, skeptical. Always. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Yes you were," and she dangles a set of keys.

"I'm sorry, did you steal those?"

The laughter from her chest is as surprising as it is gorgeous, rich and thick like molasses, rolling over the shape of her tongue. It hits you hard that two weeks - really, any amount of time - it’s not nearly long enough.

And before Tzuyu can admit as much out loud, Sana chirps from her spot aside the door, knee bent and grinning, "maybe I did."

"Well," you say, hands on your hips, "this is all a little..."

"Irregular, I know." Sana's giving her best impression of you: so exasperated.

"Which is, honestly," she continues to explain, pushing away from her perch and approaching in these small, gentle steps. "We need, that thing you promised you'd do," she trails a finger up the buttons of your shirt, under your jaw. You're already drowning. "Whenever" - is her very worst torture - "we called."

(Might just be a little bit of trouble, is the one honest answer, to whatever you were trying to start when you saw their faces and recognized their bodies and said: yes, come inside and meet me and fuck my brains out, all that.

What a way to begin. What a story it'll be.)

a/n: these two are fucking adorable.

#twice smut #sana smut #tzuyu smut #kpop smut #male reader smut #twice sana smut #twice tzuyu smut

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xoxochb · 28 days

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * but daddy I love him!

warnings: arguing, hades is a bitch here

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades and persephone

series master list

horrified looks fill the room. hades stands from his seat. at first he struggles to find the right words to use and you were sure he would just end up killing percy on the spot

“what are you doing here?” was his first question

percy takes cautious steps towards the front of the room where your father stands

“do you want the long version or the short version?”percy jokes

“the explanation”

you throw your bouquet to the side, and run (or try your best with these damn heels) to your father and your boyfriend

“dad, don’t get angry” you throw your hands up in a ‘calm down’ movement

“It’s a little too late for that”

“okay- well, just listen before you say anything”

hades rolls his eyes. “just spit it out!”

you sigh. “percy is my boyfriend and-”

your cut off my malicious laugh from your father, your brows furrow and you turn to percy who wears a similar expression and shrugs. when hades’ laughter dies down he takes a deep breath before speaking,

“I’m sorry about that. did you really think you could hide your relationship from me?”

“what do you mean?” you inquire

“I mean I’m not oblivious, I have eyes everywhere. this is why I married you off”

“I am not married yet!”

“you will be. do you think because I haven’t said anything about you and percy means I will let you be together? I found a man much more suited for you. he even shares blood with your beloved”

you turn around and troy stands behind you. “this,” you point a finger at him with a disgusted look “is related to percy?”

“let’s take this out into the hallway, shall we?”

your father guides the four of you to the hall, at least here there won’t be nosy gods trying to know all your business. when you get outside you cross your arms and ask once for an explanation,

hades begins, “it was amazing that for six years I was able to let you sneak around with the son of poseidon. last year I came up with an idea, a genius idea. I tell you about being married at eighteen, you believe it. I threw a party to help you ‘find’ a man to marry. but I had one all along, another son of poseidon who would be more than happy to help me”

“I’m sorry- but what the actual fuck?” you say

“watch your tone”

“and what makes you think I’m going to? it’s astonishing that you think you can tell me all of this bullshit and expect me to stay calm!”

“it was for your own good. percy is not suitable for you. his brother however…” hades turns to ‘troy’ and they share a smirk “triton, don’t you think you’re a much suited husband for my daughter?”

“hold on,” percy holds up his pointer “isn’t he already married?”

“gods can get divorced too!” triton defends “and besides I couldn’t not take up the offer to marry the gorgeous daughter of hades”

triton wraps an arm around you, his hand landing on your hip with a squeeze. you pull away and allow your hand to collide with his face

“you are a thickheaded asshole! keep your fish hands away from me!”

“y/n I will not allow you to treat your husband like this”

you throw your hands up dramatically. “he is not my husband! I will not marry him! he’s a million years old do you realize how odd that is?”

“actually I’m-” triton starts, but you interrupt

“nobody’s speaking to you”

“y/n” your father begins with a calmed voice, “you won’t marry triton but I can assure you that you will not marry percy”

“why not?” you cross your arms again

“he is very impertinent. he will not be a good husband”

“okay- well maybe he likes to break rules but I love him!”

“love is silly”

“so when you kidnapped mom it was silly?”

“that was different”

“how so? you kidnapped her because you liked her, then you got married then you had four kids together? how silly is that? and may I remind you that bianca is dead, melinoe lives elsewhere and me and nico have to sneak around all the time!”

the hall goes silent. hades looks at his shoes in embarrassment and you take this as a win and a chance to finish, “father, if you don’t want me to marry percy then that is fine. I will move out so I won’t be under your rules and I can live as I please. I assume nico will be doing the same after this also. I hope your childless palace will be a reminder why everyone leaves you. now goodbye, I wish not to speak further”

you let a large breath escape your lips before walking away, percy following

“are you really going to leave?”

“would you?”

“I would’ve left a long time ago. you’ve got more patience than I do”

you smile and shake your head. “believe me, I know”

“where are you going to live?”

“I am not sure. maybe I’ll move with my sister, I do miss her”

“or” percy grabs your hand, forcing you to stop and look at him “you could live with me. I have this house up in montauk, right on the beach. we don’t have to get married if you don’t want to, I know I want to but whenever you’re ready of course”

“are you proposing to me right now?”

percy shrugs. “I mean, yeah but I know you just ended a non existent marriage so if it’s too soon that’s fine”

“perseus” you cup his face with your hands “I would love to marry you”

his worried expression dissolves into a wide grin and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug which you’re quick to reciprocate. maybe things won’t be half bad

@azure-drag0ness @itzmeme @leathesimp @pevenxie @mp-littlebit @inclusivesimping @emryb

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #percy series #pjo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader

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spooky-pomegranate · 3 months

Text

Eyes on Fire (pt 1)

*Enemies to Lovers inspired by the Year Zero music video*

Papa Emeritus II x Reader (18+) Word Count: 6k Read on AO3 Part 2

Summary: You've recently been promoted to the role of Imperatrix under the reign of Papa Emeritus II. But what happens when you despise the man you'll be serving and the job promised to you isn't what you expected? Has dark magic already sealed your fate inside the Ministry's walls or will you carve your own path forward?

(Dividers by @wrathofrats)

It was supposed to be a promotion.

A new job, with a new expensive wardrobe and a new suite on the beautifully built western side of the Abbey. It was supposed to be a step up. An upgrade. An opportunity to serve the Dark Lord like none you’d been offered before. That’s what everyone had told you.

But this… this didn’t feel like a promotion.

“I’m supposed to do what?!”

Sister Imperator sighed and rolled her eyes. She’d clearly become exhausted by your never-ending barrage of questions.

“Sister, don’t make me repeat myself. I said after Papa has finished his meal you will undress.”

The other sisters in the room hadn’t flinched when Imperator explained how things would work here in Papa’s private dining room. Although in their defense Imperator had rattled off your new to-do list like it was nothing more than a simple set of chores: set the table with the fine china, light the fireplace and black candles, serve Papa his meal from the kitchen, and then once he’d finished eating strip naked and offer yourself to him.

Feed him then fuck him.

That was your new job.

That’s what you were supposed to do.

“Well what if we don’t want to ‘offer ourselves’ to Papa?’” You said adding a pair of finger quotes for good measure.

“Seriously?” One of your sisters asked while the rest looked at you like you had seven heads.

You wondered then if everyone else knew what to expect because no one mentioned to you that you were going to have to fuck Papa sideways after his afternoon tea and finger sandwiches. You were pretty sure you’d remember something like that.

“This is part of your duty Sister. Unless of course, you would rather be somewhere else,” Imperator spoke nonchalantly with the wave of her manicured nails. “I can arrange for you to return to the gardens if you’d like.”

“No, no.” You shot back. “I don’t want that.”

It wasn’t that you had anything against Primo or the lovely earth ghouls who worked in the greenhouse but gardening, plants, digging around in the dirt… those weren’t your things. You’d hoped to be placed in the library when you were first informed of your promotion to Imperatrix. Getting lost in the countless books, hiding away in one of the library’s many corners, and reading in front of one of the large marble fireplaces sounded practically godlike to you. Plus you doubted the sisters who worked there were expected to bend over for Papa after putting away texts and tomes all day.

“Okay well then sisters,” Imperator started, clasping her hands together, “you are all dismissed. Present yourselves to the kitchen staff at 6:00 o’clock sharp. Do not be late. The kitchen will inform you of tonight’s meal and then you may begin to prepare the dining room accordingly. Any more questions?”

Any more questions? You had a million fucking questions. But the look in Imperator's eye quieted you. It was better not to ask them. You’d rather not piss her off any further or else you’d end up on her shit list and somewhere truly awful like Nihil’s office. One by one your fellow sisters filed out of the dining room, laughing and joking about god knows what. You were truly too zoned out to care. You turned to follow them into the hall, but a hand reached out and grabbed you, pulling you back into the dim dining room.

“Hold on sister, let’s talk.”

Imperator's cherry-red nails dug into your skin and she spun you around, offering you a weak smile, her thin lips spread and the corners of her eyes crinkled. She led you to a thickly cushioned chair before the roaring fire and motioned for you to sit. You obliged and she pulled a chair from the table to sit beside you.

“I want you to answer me truthfully. You will not be punished for anything you say during this conversation. Do you understand?” You nodded and Imperator reached forward to pat your forearm much like a teacher would congratulate a mischievous child for finally falling in line. “That’s good, dear. Now let’s get to the bottom of this. Are you embarrassed to take your clothes off?”

If you had been drinking you would have spat in Imperator's face. “No. No. Definitely not.” You loved your body, imperfections and all.

One of Sister Imperators eyebrow’s cocked to the heavens. “You’re a virgin then?”

“What?! No.” You were many things, but even then a virgin wasn’t one.

“Are you scared he won’t be… gentle?”

You eyed Imperator at her careful choice of words. It was common knowledge amongst everyone in the Abbey that Secondo liked to party and since his ascension tales of his exploits had only grown more and more wild. Lately, it was becoming harder to separate rumors from truth, but the ghouls had told you what he was like on tour. Multiple women every day. Brothers too. Half a dozen bodies warming his bed each night like clockwork. Almost all walked or limped away covered in marbling black and blue bruises, their skin looking more like Jackson Pollock paintings than naturally colored flesh.

“No, that’s not it,” you answered truthfully.

“Then what is it, sister? Help me understand.”

Imperator asked you to be honest, but you wondered if there was a line hidden somewhere in the sand. Could you really speak ill of a Papa and get away with it?

You turned your head and looked at the tall grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Like everything in the church, it was beautifully ornate bordering on ostentatious. Intricate depictions of dark angels were carved into dark mahogany and inlaid with bits of 18 carrot gold. The fallen angels' wings pointed upward toward an onyx statue of Baphomet, who perched like a gargoyle on top of the clock and stared down at you with ruby eyes. The second hand ticked and ticked. You watched as it passed the twelve and continued onward like Sisyphus in his incessant journey.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

How long could you sit in silence before Imperator would ask a ghoul to carry you to the infirmary for a psych eval? A few minutes? An hour? An eternity?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Imperator tapped her clawed finger against her chair.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your time was up.

“Sister,” she said squeezing your arm. You looked back into her hazel eyes. They were gentler and kinder than they had been before. It was… surprising.

It wasn’t often Sister Imperator softened. Running the church wasn’t an easy task and over the years You’d seen her hold things together with tenacity, strength, and the occasional iron fist. It still gave you chills thinking about the first time she’d turned her fury your way. It’d happened during a particularly rowdy Lupercalia festival years ago. You’d challenged Mountain to a drinking contest but it was still early days in the church for you and none of the ghouls had bothered to mention their tolerance was insurmountable higher than humans. You’d ended up wasted before the first bonfire was even lit.

The night ended after Imperator found you emptying your stomach down the front of a statue in the main courtyard. You vaguely remember she hadn’t cared that it was Dew’s idea to climb the stupid thing. But what you do remember was all the screaming she’d done when you broke off a small piece of Lilith’s marble nose on your clumsy descent.

But right now the angry fire that was always hidden inside of Imperator wasn’t aimed in your direction. Right now she was offering you something else. Pity? Sadness? Sympathy? It was hard to tell exactly what was behind Imperator's eyes… but whatever she was aiming in your direction it left you with a sour feeling deep in your stomach.

Imperator called your name and the uneasy feeling only worsened, “Tell me sister why don’t you want this?”

“I’m just not interested in doing that… with him.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t exactly the whole truth either. You’d never say this to a member of the high clergy but the only thing you really wanted to do with Secondo was smack him upside his bald-headed ass.

“You know sex with a Papa is an honor?” Sister Imperator said, finally letting go of your arm and sitting back in her chair with a sigh. “Of course, no one will ever force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with but you should know many of your sisters would love to be in this position.”

“I know that and I am grateful,” you lied. “Is there something else I can do? Can I help in the kitchens or the classrooms? I can do secretarial work if any of the Cardinals need an extra hand. My Latin isn’t great but I’m a decent typist. Or I could help in the choir. I don’t know if they need help but I’m sure I could make myself useful. If you think that’s a good idea of course. If you don’t agree then never mind. I can do whatever for whoever.”

You were rambling. Panicking.

You didn’t want to offer the greenhouse, but maybe this was the moment you should? Primo was nice enough and even though Mountain wasn’t your drinking buddy anymore he was still your friend. You wouldn’t thrive but you could survive. Thankfully Imperator spoke again before the landslide that was tumbling inside your brain could spew any further out your mouth.

“For now sister you will help the others prepare Papa’s meals. After he’s eaten you can excuse yourself. You will wait until he has left the dining room and then you may clean up with the others. Does that sound alright?”

“Yes, Sister. Thank you, Sister.”

You bowed and dismissed yourself before Imperator could ask you any more embarrassing questions. If you hadn’t felt her eyes piercing the back of your head as you walked away you would have run out of that room and sprinted across the front lawn and into the woods until your head was as clear as the sky.

But you couldn’t do that.

You weren’t a junior Sister of Sin anymore.

You were an Imperatrix now. You had to follow some rules.

You wandered through the halls of the Abbey until you found the office of Cardinal Terzo.

Unlike his older brother, you didn’t have any issues with the third Emeritus. His flirting was fun and harmless and he had a wicked sense of humor. There’d been a time when you’d thought a night in his bed might be fun but Terzo was a bit too much drama for you in the end. His highs were high, but his lows… well for a grown man he could certainly throw a temper tantrum.

It was fitting that before you reached his door you heard his voice. He was singing along with an opera song, something sad and moody tinged in a haunting darkness that seemed to breathe into everything within the Abbey’s walls. Your Italian was shit, but you guessed from the way he was lamenting the song had something to do with a lost lover. It was beautiful. You smiled to no one but the portraits in the hall. Terzo might be a drama queen but fucking hell could he sing like a fallen angel. If you hadn’t come here with a mission you would have sat down in the hall and listened for as long as he sang. But duty called.

“Cardinal,” you shouted, banging loudly on his door. “Cardinal Terzo?! Sister Imperator sent me.”

“Bella!” Terzo flung open the door and dramatically wrapped you in his arms, swinging you around the room in an airtight waltz. “Dance with me, bella.” You both laughed as Terzo dipped you dangerously close to the floor. An old record player in the corner of the room spun, continuing the song Terzo had sung.

“Mia cara, you are here for the keys to your new suite, no?”

“Yes, Cardinal,” you answered as he brought you back to your feet and kissed your hand.

“We must celebrate then! Today is a big day for you.” Terzo let you go and moved behind his large desk in the center of the room. He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of brown-colored liquor, waggling his eyebrows playfully at you as he held it up.

“This whiskey is a personal favorite Sorella,” Terzo said pulling two crystal glasses from the same drawer before pouring the liquor and filling each glass nearly to the top. “It’s smooth, rich, and warms your insides. I find it’s a crowd favorite. Not unlike your favorite Cardinal, no?” Terzo winked at you with a devilish smile on his lips. “Would you like a taste?”

Tuesday at noon seemed like a great time for a whiskey right? Fuck it. You’d earned this, plus you had hours before you needed to be back in Papa’s dining room.

“Sure why not,” you answered, taking a step closer to Terzo.

“To the drink… or to me cara?”

“Just the drink Cardinal.”

What is it about alcohol that makes time move fucking sideways? Is it the ethanol disrupting pathways in your brain? Or is it the company you keep while downing an entire bottle of whiskey in the middle of the afternoon? Either way, the sun was lower and your spirits were higher when you finally stumbled out of Terzo’s office.

Two hundred and twenty-four.

You stared at the emerald green numbered etched into the door. Two hundred and twenty-four. This was your new home. You pulled out the brass key Cardinal Terzo had given you and slid it into the slot. The massive wooden door gave way with a heavy push.

If the halls on this side of the Abbey were as beautiful as a painting, then your room was the goddamn Louvre. Every inch of your new space was so gorgeous it was practically dripping in an ostentatious opulence that the Dark Lord would be proud of. Vaulted ceilings gave way to arched windows framed in dark rich wood. The same deep brown also made up a large four-poster bed in the center of the room and to the left of your unbelievably comfy-looking bed, two plush and tufted armchairs faced a black marble fireplace. On the other side of the room, a massive armoire towered next to a set of wooden double doors. You squealed as you ungracefully tripped over the threshold and rushed toward the doors.

“What’s behind door number one,” you giggled as you threw open the doors with a flourish.

Your jaw dropped.

“Fuck me, Satan…”

Inside was your bathroom. Your glorious, beautiful, and perfect private bathroom.

Dark emerald tiles stretched from the floor and crawled up the high bowed walls like ivy. In the center of the room, a clawfoot tub begged you to forget about your duties and soak until you became a pruny mess. A black marble vanity ran the room's length and another fireplace cemented itself across from a set of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Everything was bathed in a pretty orange glow as the sun streamed in through a trio of gothic windows.

A smile crept across your face.

If this morning Imperator had tossed you into a hole, and this afternoon Terzo lifted you out, then this room, in all of its glory, helped set you free. It gave you a pair of wings and let you fly. You felt lightheaded and happier than you’d been in a long time. All of this was yours. Silk sheets, marble fireplaces, porcelain tub, all of it was yours just to serve a bitter bald man some steak and potatoes.

“Ya know if Satan won’t fuck ya I will.” You nearly jumped out of your skin before whipping around to see Mountain posted up smugly in the doorway.

“Jesus fucking Christ Mountain! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, I came to say hi and see your new place. But now I’m thinking I might take a bath in that tub right there. This place is pretty nice.” Mountain ran his clawed finger over your marble countertop. “You sure it’s yours?”

You smiled at Mountain. While the large ghoul had been on the quiet side when you first met him ages ago, he’d opened up like one of Primo’s flowers in spring since then. He was kind and patient, traits all earth ghouls seemed to share, but he was also funny and sarcastic. You loved that most about him.

“Very funny,” you said striding up to Mountain and punching him playfully in his broad shoulder. “You live in a den underground. What do you know about nice? A shoe box would look nice to you.”

“Ooooo she becomes an Imperatrix and suddenly she’s sassyyyyy.”

"Yeah. Yeah," you murmered, walking past Mountain back into the main chamber of your suite. He followed your trail like the giant Saint Bernard he was.

“You nervous about tonight?”

You jumped up onto your bed and let your feet dangle over the edge.

“I told Imperator I didn’t want the job.”

Mountain raised an eyebrow, “Why would you say that?”

“Because I don’t, Mountain.” You hopped off the bed and paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Maybe I’m not like everyone else.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m just... I'm not desperately trying to sleep with an Emeritus.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t say it like that to Imperator,” Mountain eyes stayed on you watching you sympathetically, as you wore a hole in the finely polished floor.

“No. I didn’t. She’s letting me keep the job for now though. Minus the fucking I guess.”

“So you get all this,” Mountain motioned around your room, “just to be a waitress?”

“Guess so.”

Mountain paused for a moment and you turned to face him. He looked stunned. Brow wrinkling. Hands plunged deep into his brown curly hair. “That’s… that’s surprising.”

“Why?”

“Well despite living underground I do know some things Sister and one of the things I know is that Papa Secondo gave you the nicest suite in the Abbey.”

“What!?”

You knew that assigning Imperatrixs their new wardrobe and housing was under the discretion of the Papa in charge. That’s why you weren’t surprised to see emerald color sheets and tiles in your suite. But why would Secondo give you the best room? Did he forget what happened between you all those nights ago? This couldn’t be right. Mountain must have been mistaken. This had to be some type of ill-informed gossip swapped over half a dozen drinks in the ghoul dens. This was the kind of nonsense you had just spent the last few hours yapping on about with Terzo. Nonsense. Nothing more.

“How do you know that? Who said that?”

“Primo.”

Fuck. Primo didn’t gossip. Primo barely talked to anyone but his plants. This wasn't nonsense.

“That’s how I knew which room was yours. He told me this was your new place. He also told me this was where he kept his most favorite Imperatrix when he was Papa.”

“Really?”

“Really really.”

“Fuck.”

Standing in Papa’s dining room you felt dumb. Really, really dumb. Like a box of rocks, four cents short of a nickel, got into the gene pool when the lifeguard wasn't watching… dumb.

At last night's ceremony, when it was announced six new sisters would serve in Papa’s dining room, you hadn’t thought much of the number. You’d just accepted it as a normal thing… six sisters feeding one Papa. Sure. Fine. Whatever. Weirder things happened in the church. Truthfully, you were just excited that you wouldn’t have to use the mildewy communal showers anymore. But now, standing in Papa Secondo’s dining room with your five fellow sisters you realized you should have known the ministry would want you to be more than just a waitress. Papa didn't need this many people to prep and serve his meals. It wasn’t like he needed twelve hands to lay down a single set of silverware and yeah there were a lot of candles to light, and his meal consisted of several courses, but this wasn’t hard work. The six of you had finished Imperator’s lengthy checklist in a matter of minutes. God, you felt so dumb.

With nothing left to do but wait for Secondo you found a chair by the fire and plopped down. The grand clock in the corner ticked and ticked. The rest of your sisters found other places around the room to perch.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Do you think he’s going to want all of us tonight? Like at once?” A shy voice asked.

It was Sister Rose who broke the silence. Like the rest of the women in the room, Rose was gorgeous. She had long black hair that cascaded effortlessly past her shoulders and down her back, her green eyes resembled the color of Secondo’s formal robes, and she always smelt like sweet vanilla and honey. Someday you really should ask her where she got her perfume.

“I don’t know,” Sister Katherina said hopping off the buffet table. “But I hope he picks me. He slept with my old roommate, Lionara once and she still hasn’t shut up about it. Mind you that was two years ago and she’s fucked half the clergy since then.”

If Sister Rose, was beautiful like the night, with dark hair and dark eyes, then Sister Katherina was pretty like the sun. She had blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and was sweet as sugar. You’d often seen her with the siblings in the bakery, whipping up sweet treats with her trademark wide smile. You weren’t friends with many siblings, you preferred the comfort of ghouls, but you could see why so many people liked Katherine. Like sunshine she was easy to like.

“Eh, no offense Katey, but Lionara wouldn’t know good dick if it slapped her in the face. Besides I have a feeling he’s only taking one of us tonight. So I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

You rolled your eyes at Sister Luciana's words. Like both Rose and Katherina, Sister Luciana was stunning. But unfortunately for everyone on the planet, Luciana knew that. How she found anyone to put up with her attitude was beyond you, but for some reason the brothers all lined up to grovel at her feet like she was Lilith incarnate. Luciana was proof that apparently, you can have an ego the size of Mount Everest and still get laid. It shouldn't have been a surprise she’d assume Papa would fuck her first.

You were about to defend Katherina when the clock chimed… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven times. On the final note, the door opened and he appeared.

Papa Secondo Emeritus was a tall man. In every room he entered, he towered over everyone and everything. You wouldn’t mind his height, you liked a tall man… or ghoul, but Papa’s looming height combined with the intensity of his permanent scowl made people feel small. Siblings hid from him when he strolled down the halls and his confessionals were as sparsely attended as the 9:00 am weekend masses.

You weren’t much different from the rest. You never felt warm and fuzzy around Secondo like you did the Ghouls or his brothers. But if you were a betting sister, you’d wager he liked it that way. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d never smiled before in his life. His face was probably incapable of it. And you’d sure as fuck never heard him laugh. Everything was always so serious with Secondo. “We must put Satan first” this… “we must be conduits for him” that. You’d think for a dude who fucked so much he’d be less uptight. But that wasn’t Secondo. He was as bitter as a penny.

As Secondo stepped into the room and walked to the head of the table, you felt the air leave the room and the shadows grow darker. He paused behind his chair and gripped the back of the seat so roughly his leather gloves squeaked. Then one by one he eyed each of your sisters, taking his time to dissect them in silence.

As you shifted from foot to foot waiting for your turn to be scrutinized you wondered what he was looking for. Maybe he was just deciding which of you he’d fuck first, contemplating which body part he’d use for whatever pleasure was in his wrathful head. Or maybe he was thinking about which of you he wanted to get rid of first.

Along with his insatiable appetite for flesh, Secondo had a reputation for being quick to anger. None of his assistants ever lasted more than a few months and the ghouls on his last tour told you horror stories about blowups backstage.

Then of course there was also your own experience with Secondo’s rage. It happened a long time ago but you’d never forget it. The way he’d spoken to you. The fire in his eyes. The vitriol he’d spewed, chewing you up and spitting you out like you’d been worth nothing. It had been a nightmare he might have forgotten but you never would.

If you’d still been drunk you probably would have reminded Secondo of that night. You would have told him off and splashed some of the expensive red wine from his table on his stupid painted face. But you weren’t drunk. You were floating somewhere in the buzzed phase, where the edges of your vision were a bit fuzzy and your inhibitions weren’t entirely free.

With a soft click the minute hand on the clock moved and it was suddenly your turn to be dissected. Secondo’s mixed-matched eyes met yours… and then it happened.

The entire room burst into a bright light. Like a flashbang, pain ripped through your eyes and you pinched them closed, staggering backward. A sweltering torrid heat started to burn. It swept over your arms and face and sunk into your clothes. Then it dawned on you. Something in the room was burning. You forced open your eyes and squinted against the light.

Your jaw fell slack.

It looked like someone had doused gasoline onto every open flame. The fireplace roared and flashed angrily like thunder and lightning and fire from every black candle was shooting high into the air, licking the ceiling and threatening to consume you all in its blaze.

Someone in the room screamed.

But just as quickly as it started… it was over. The heat, the sound, the light burning through the dark room all of it was gone in another flash.

For a moment you wondered if you were seeing things, if maybe you were still drunk, or worse if your sanity was slipping away from you. But then you looked back at Secondo and you knew… he’d seen it too. Uncharacteristically his painted mouth hung open and his pupils were dialed wide.

“Sei tu?” Papa whispered. “Por favore…sei tu?” He was so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.

“Are you alright Papa?” Sister Luciana asked, but Secondo ignored her. His eyes snapped from the black candles back to you.

There was something about looking into Secondo’s eyes that was like staring into the sun. You’d forgotten what his eyes looked like from this close a distance. He’d turned his gaze on you like this only once before. That stupid night so long ago but when he’d looked at you then his eyes had pierced you. Like a sword, they’d hurt and stung. But this … this didn’t feel like that. This felt different. There was no pain now. All you felt now as you stared at one another was the warm summer sun.

It felt good. Really fucking good.

Papa tilted his head and you mirrored him, like two diametrical opposing species discovering each other in the wild for the first time. If he was working some sort of dark magic you weren’t ready to break the spell. You wanted to feel like this… just for a bit longer.

“Ehhhhhmmmm,” Sister Luciana loudly cleared her throat and Secondo tore his eyes from you. The moment, or whatever that had been, was over. The sun moved behind the clouds.

“Papa,” Luciana said several octaves higher than her normal speaking voice, “won’t you please have a seat.”

Was she really not going to acknowledge the fucking weird ass shit that just happened?! The fact the entire room was almost just consumed by flames?!

You snapped your head around the room and to your shock, no one else seemed to share in your dismay. In fact, no one else seemed to care that the entire room had almost just burned down. Everyone was smiling and obediently staring at Papa, just like they had been before the flames had erupted.

Secondo nodded at Luciana and took his seat at the head of the table.

You wanted to scream.

He had seen it. You were sure. Secondo had definitely seen it too.

What in the actual name of Satan was going on?!

Sister Luciana continued on oblivious to your internal turmoil, and took care of Papa’s wine, seductively licking her lips as she poured his pinot noir. The rest of your sisters started their work as well. Mind still reeling from the flames, you did your best to focus on your own task, eventually falling in line and working in tandem with your sisters to fill Secondo’s plate with all sorts of meats and veggies.

After a moment when his plate was finally piled high, Secondo held up a hand. As Sister Imperator had instructed, you knelt by his feet and clasped your hands in prayer.

“Dark one, we are one in your blood,” Secondo started, “A conquered people rising from the ashes of your burnt wings. Command us. Open wide the gates of Hell and come forth from the abyss to greet us as your brothers and sisters. We invite you… willingly.” Secondo's voice wavered on the last word and then he paused, closing his eyes and tilting his head toward the ceiling.

You’d never heard this prayer before. You wondered if he was coming up with it on the fly. It was tradition to recite the anti-Nicene creed before a meal… but Secondo was Papa. You supposed he could say whatever he wanted. But when Secondo spoke again he surprised you. He sounded sadder. Or maybe frustrated. It was difficult to tell since he switched from English to his mother tongue.

“Mi dispiace se non ho fatto abbastanza per farti piacere. Starò meglio. Per te. Lo giuro. Nema.”

For the rest of the meal, Secondo acted as you expected. He took and you gave. He demanded more wine, more meat, more potatoes. All of his words came to you as orders instead of asks and you indulged him, bringing him everything he desired. But you did withhold one thing from him. For the rest of the meal, you refused to look Secondo in his heterochromatic eyes. You stared at the floor, out the window, at the food piled high on the table. You kept your eyes anywhere but on his.

As Secondo put the last bite of his steak into his mouth you took your cue to leave and slipped out the side door and into the butler's pantry. But you weren’t alone for long. One by one, your fellow sisters joined you, each a bit disappointed they hadn’t been chosen by Secondo. First was Sister Madaline, then Sister Sarah, followed shortly thereafter by Sister Morgan. When Sister Rose and Sister Katherina joined you in the pantry together moments later you almost scoffed. Of course, Secondo would pick Luciana. She’d practically eye-fucked him during the appetizer.

You snagged an apple from a bowl and then hopped up on the granite countertop, hoping Luciana’d at least make it quick.

“Are we allowed to eat those?” Sister Sarah asked staring hungrily at the apple halfway in your mouth. Imperator had informed you that it was your choice when you ate. You could go to the siblings' dining hall before or after Papa ate. Apparently, like you, Sarah had chosen the latter.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you said, munching on the apple, some juice falling ungracefully to your chin. “But these are really good. You want one?”

“Fuck, yes.”

You smiled and tossed Sarah an apple from the bowl.

“Anybody else wan-” The sound of dishes shattering interrupted you. Your sisters exchanged wide-eyed glances. Good, you thought. You weren’t the only one hearing things this time.

“Someone s-should probably go look,” Sister Rose stated nervously. “Just… just to make sure she’s okay, right?”

It wasn’t surprising when all eyes fell on you. Just as Secondo had his reputation, so did you… and you weren’t known as a rule follower.

“Fineeeee,” you sighed, hopping down from your perch, “I’ll check it out.”

You walked toward the dining room door, dropped to your knees, and slowly pushed it open just the smallest crack... just enough that you could see a sliver of the dining room floor. On the ground plates and glasses were smashed. Wine soaked into the carpet and food was scattered everywhere.

You moved closer inching the door open just slightly… and then you saw Luciana. She was lying naked on the table. Papa stood still clothed in his dress shirt and pants between her thighs. His gloved hands squeezed her throat as his hips slammed into her again and again and again.

Secondo was fucking Luciana like he didn’t care about the bruises he’d leave behind or if she had enough air to breathe. There was no love here. No gentleness. No kindness. No intimacy. This was brutal. This was feral. This was rough animalistic sex and nothing more.

But Luciana didn’t care. No, she seemed to love it.

“Papa. Papa. Papa,” she chanted his title. “Just like that Papa. You feel soooooo fucking good Papa. You’re so biggggg Papa.”

You wondered if she was faking it, laying it on thick to stroke Secondo’s ego. You didn’t have a great view of Papa or his “big” cock… but you could tell he was ferocious. Even if he was silent, even if he refused to look her in the eye, even if this was the most impersonal bout of rough sex you’d ever fucking seen in your life Secondo was slamming so hard into her you worried the table was going to splinter and break in two.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Creaking and moaning. Screaming and panting. You watched it all crouched from the doorway.

“Fuck Papa. I’m… I’m so close.” Luciana reached up to cradle Secondo's face but he stopped abruptly. He pulled away from her and his eyes darkened.

Your breath hitched.

“No,” he growled coldly. “This is an offering. Nothing more.” Secondo grabbed Luciana's hand and slammed it down onto the table beside her head with a loud bang.

You jumped. The big brass key to your room slipped from your pocket and clanged loudly against the tile floor.

“Shit.”

You slapped your hand over your mouth. Shit. You had not meant to say that out loud.

Shit.

You hoped he hadn’t heard that.

But it was too late.

He’d heard you.

Secondo’s eyes met yours.

The warmth you felt when the candles flared swept back over you, one by one igniting your nerve endings into smoldering embers. But the candles weren’t burning any brighter. The room wasn’t getting any hotter. Secondo was simply watching you... and you watched him back, staring directly into the sun that was Papa Secondo.

Even as he stepped back toward the table, even as he pounded into Luciana harder than he had before, even as she screamed… you stayed and met his gaze. You let Secondo watch you as he fucked her. You let his stare burn you.

“Papa I’m gonna…” Luciana began to shake, her legs twitched and back arched as she started to careen over her edge, Secondo’s relentless thrusts finally catching up to her.

“Please… please… just… oh my god!” She cried.

“There’s no god here,” Papa grunted through gritted teeth, the first sign that he was close to his own end.

Then like a marionette, Luciana hurtled over her edge. She went limp on the table, her back flat against the wood and her legs splayed open wide. But Secondo didn't slow down. He just kept pushing, kept moving, kept staring directly at you as he fucked into Luciana over and over and over, ignoring her overstimulated whimpers and soft cries. And you stayed. Your knees stayed planted on the floor, your hand stayed glued to the wooden door, and your eyes remained on his. You stayed until a voice called out to you.

“Sister, what’s going on?”

Quickly you shut the door and spun around. From beyond the now-closed threshold you heard Secondo roar. Five sets of concerned eyes met yours.

“W-what?” You stuttered.

“Sister, what’s going on in there? Is Luciana okay?” Sister Sarah repeated herself, having put down her apple some time ago and moved to huddle with the rest of your waiting sisters in the middle of the pantry. “Yeah.” You blinked. “Yeah. She’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Sister Morgan asked, offering you a hand and helping you stand from the unforgiving cold tile floor. Your knees ached as you reached your full height. How many minutes had you been kneeling for? How long had you been watching? Better yet why did you watch? And why did he let you?

Your head was spinning.

“Sister?” Morgan asked again.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. You guys have heard the rumors about Papa right?” You added with a half-hearted laugh. “Well, they’re definitely true. Papa’s just a bit… enthusiastic.”

Enthusiastic. It wasn’t the right word, but you weren’t about to go into detail on what you'd just seen. Knowing Luciana she’d brag about this whole affair with a megaphone in the courtyard soon enough. The sordid details would come out in the wash. They always did in the Abbey. Your biggest worry now was that you’d be part of the dirty laundry. That maybe while you had looked at Secondo and he at you, Luciana had seen you both.

Shit.

You pinched your brow and sighed before leaning against the marble counter. Every minute you had to wait to clean up the dining room was going to be agony. This was supposed to be a promotion. So why was this job starting to feel more like a nightmare?

(Part 2) (Follow along on AO3 HERE)

#ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #terzo #band ghost #nameless ghouls #papa emeritus ii #papa secondo #secondo #secondo x female reader #secondo x reader #secondo emeritus #daddy secondo #ghost secondo

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idkwhatever580 · 3 months

Text

I’m sure you could pt. 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Pairings:Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: y/n goes with nat as she navigates her way around the red room. (based off of black widow)

Warnings: violence, blood/injuries, trauma probably, red room stuff, swearing. Lmk if I missed any.

A/N: here’s part two!

Here’s the two people that wanted to be tagged in this individually. I can add y’all to the Taglist if you want!!! @alexvausesgirl @rosea-reginae

Y/n’s pov

We’re standing in the streets of Budapest as I look at Natasha for what to do next.

This poor girl just had a “self destruct” mode on her. Like she was an object.

As I watched the life leave her eyes I see a flicker of red. I zone out thinking of what it could be but Nat pulls me with her to get out of there.

Natasha takes me to a messed up apartment looking building and we go up to one of the rooms. Before she goes it she gets a hidden key and whispers in my ear

“Stay here. Whatever you do, do not go inside until I call you okay?”

I nod my head and she hands me a gun to protect myself. I stand against the wall and wait.

As expected they get into a fight, but I really want to go in there. I know Natasha is fully capable of handling Yelena but I’m nervous.

From what I can hear, she’s holding back. If she really wanted to, she’d have snapped her neck in five seconds. But Yelena is her sister. Of course she wouldn’t want that.

It gets quiet and I worry. A lot. But i listen to nat and stay put.

Suddenly Yelena says

“Who’s with you?”

Nat says

“My wife. Y/n you’re okay to come here”

I walk in with the gun still in my hand and I give it to Natasha.

They start talking and I stay quiet.

“You brought it back here?”

“I’m not here trying to be your friend but you need to tell me what that is”

I almost butt in because of how Natasha is talking to her sister. She needs to stop being an asshat.

Then Yelena explains what it is in a bunch of words that are way too big for me.

What I’ve caught is that it’s a gas. And Natasha says

“Maybe in English next time?”

Then Yelena speaks in Russian because she’s petty but I don’t quite understand a bunch of Russian. I know the simple terms. And a few other pet names that Natasha had given me over the years. But not much more.

It’s not like it matters to me anyways.

They banter more back and forth and Natasha starts changing.

She takes off her shirt to show her fresh bruises from her fall off the bridge earlier.

I walk up to her silently and kiss one of them on her shoulder.

I can feel yelenas eyes on us but it fine.

They talk more and then suddenly Yelena brings up the red room.

I thought nat brought down the red room. And she says the same thing. But apparently not.

I look down and realize that it’s been years since she thought she took it down and that there’s probably millions of girls who have gone through the same thing since.

Suddenly we get ambushed and Natasha and Yelena all fit with me onto a motorcycle. Don’t ask me how they did it though. Then we switch into a car. Thank god I was about to fall off.

We barely get away and we are hiding in some vents.

I look over and find some games of tic tac toe and scratches. I trace my fingers along the n and c that were left there.

Goosebumps litter across my skin as I realize she’s been here before. She’s run from people in this exact spot before.

Honestly I haven’t said a word this whole time. So while nat is explaining that she and Clint hid out here for a few days, I grab her hand softly.

I rest my shoulder on hers and she is unbothered. She understands that I need some comfort right now.

We get on the move and end up in a random town late at night. They get drinks and I get a water because I’m dehydrated. They have some banter and Natasha gets up to go get another drink.

Yelena addresses me by my full name probably to intimidate me.

“So. Y/n Romanoff.”

I look up and wait for her to say what she wants to

“You’re my sisters wife.”

I nod my head and she continues

“Which makes us sisters in law”

I once again nod my head. And she asks more questions.

“Do you not speak?”

I shake my head and say

“I can speak. I just haven’t had anything to say”

She nods her head and Natasha sits down and she asks more questions.

“Do you have kids?”

I shake my head and say

“No. I don’t know if we will.”

Natasha agrees and asks the same.

“Do you want kids yel?”

Instead of answering outright she says

“I want a dog”

I nod my head and say

“You’re not into relationships like that are you?”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t know what I am. But I’ve been trying to do some research”

I look her up and down. I knew my gaydar was pinging.

“Aromantic or asexual maybe?”

She nods her head and says

“Something of that nature. I haven’t figured it out yet. But I’m leaning towards that.”

I nod my head and say

“You’ve got lots of time to figure it out. Don’t worry. I’ll support you the whole way.”

She nods her head and looks at her arm. Natasha takes charge and says

“Here. Let me wrap this.”

Yelena hesitates but nods her head and I say

“I’m gonna go to the restroom”

They nod and I leave so that they can talk by themselves.

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

Nobody’s pov

As Natasha is pouring alcohol on yelenas injury she says

“Well. You’ve met my wife. What do you think?”

Yelena hums and says

“She seems sweet. She shouldn’t be here though. she doesn’t know what we’re dealing with here”

Natasha nods her head

“I tried to send her home. But she’s hard headed like you. So she insisted. I still tried to send her away but the look she gave me was not one I mess around with.”

Yelena laughs and says

“The infamous black widow, who can kill a man in five seconds, is scared of a girl who looks like she couldn’t hurt a fly”

Natasha has a chuckle too and says

“Don’t be fooled. She’s nice. But she’s crazy. One time Tony pinched me a bit too hard and I reacted and she punched him in the face. She broke his nose”

Yelena laughs at this and says

“Wow. Remind me not to get on her bad side.”

Natasha and Yelena wrap it up as y/n comes back.

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

Y/n’s pov

I come back and sit down.

They go back to talking and I rest my head on Natasha’s shoulder and fall asleep.

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

I wake up with Natasha shaking my arm. I’m in a whole different place now. Apparently nat decided to just carry me to our sleeping place. And we get up and I follow them out to find mason standing next to a rinky dink helicopter.

We hop on and I just follow their orders. Apparently we’re breaking their father not really father out of jail.

Yelena stays in the helicopter as Natasha goes down. This is so cool.

A bunch of things happen in a flash and now we’re sitting in the helicopter talking about fallopian tubes.

Like we legit almost died from an avalanche and now they’re bickering.

I am staring at this guy. His name is Alexie. He’s big.

He stands up and says

“Who are you?”

I stand up and get up to him to show at least I’m not scared as Natasha gets a bit worried.

She’s scared someone is going to hurt someone. But I say

“I. Mr Alexie. Am your daughter’s wife”

He furrows his eyebrows and says

“Yelena? You are married?”

Yelena rolls her eyes and before she can say anything I butt in and say

“No dipshit. I’m married to Natasha. My name is Y/n Romanoff.”

I kind of shuck the whole bad girl persona and hold out my hand.

He brushes it aside and ignores it. But Natasha doesn’t stand for any kind of disrespect especially towards her wife so she says

“Ah. No. She held her hand out to shake. You shake her hand”

He rolls his eyes like a kid but finally shakes my hand back.

I wipe my hand off afterwards and we start heading to somewhere else.

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

The helicopter runs out of gas and we start walking the rest of the way.

I trail behind while the rest of them bicker until we get to Melina’s.

She has pigs. It reminds me of my childhood. When I used to have pigs. My dad would love this.

I remember when my dad brought me to the barn and pointed at the pig that was mine. He handed me some marshmallows and helped me hold out my hand. The way that the pig ate them made me so happy.

Another thing about pigs is they’re very warm and cuddly so if they’re asleep they make great pillows. Like baymax from big hero 6.

(A/N: I used to show pigs in livestock shows and I would sleep on them and feed them marshmallows. So comfy and warm)

We end up awkwardly sitting at a dinner table while Melina sits back down with her iPad.

Apparently this fake family has some serious trauma that they need to work out.

She calls in a pig

“Good boy Alexie”

“You named a pig after me?”

“You don’t see the resemblance?”

I snort a bit at that quip. It was funny.

Then she says

“Alexie stop breathing”

She slides her finger across the iPad screen and the pigs breath hitches.

My eyes widen and I rest my hand on nats thigh.

She starts talking but I’m too busy watching alexie the pig hold his breath to listen.

My eyes tear up a bit and nat finally says

“What are you doing?”

The pig falls over as Melina continues to fucking yap and I squeeze nats thigh tighter.

Melina keeps talking until I accidentally let out a whimper of fear for this pig. So Nat cuts her off.

“I think you’ve proven your point”

She finally lets him breathe and sends him out and I look at her like she’s crazy.

They end up talking a lot more but I can’t seem to snap out of the fact that the reason that girl from earlier died was because of this stuff. They controlled her. She couldn’t do anything about it.

This pig had the same glint in its eye when commanded to do something. Just like the girl. I can’t stand it anymore so I excuse myself to the restroom and go in there to calm down.

I close the door and try to calm down my breathing.

Maybe I’m not cut out for this. God I should have listened to Natasha when she told me to go home. I just wanted to make sure she was safe.

I finally calm myself down at least a little bit and I step out of the bathroom but I freeze when I hear Yelena get choked up

“Don’t say that please don’t say that. You were my family-”

I can’t even hold myself together anymore so I go back into the bathroom like I never left.

I hear Yelena storm off into a different room and footsteps I can only assume are Alexies follow behind.

I have to calm myself all over again and I just sit in the bathroom for a little while.

Natasha’s pov

Yelena just stormed off with Alexie on her tail and im staring at Melina with such anger right now.

“You know you did this to us? You could have done the right thing and helped us when we were girls. But you didn’t.”

“It was my job”

“Your job was to give two little girls hope for a life? And then just take it all away? That’s not a job. A job is something you go to an office for. Where you type on a computer all day. Not ruin innocent lives. And what’s more. You scared my wife.”

Melina scoffs and says

“It was a pig holding its breath”

“You know it was so much more than that. You know that pig created a hell for Yelena and so many other girls. She was set free by chance. And it is my job now to set them free by choice. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make sure my wife is okay”

I get up and walk to the bathroom door and knock on it.

“Y/n? Detka? It’s me, please let me in.”

No answer.

Melina walks up to me and says

“She might need some space.”

I nod my head and go to the living room and pick up an old picture book.

“She shouldn’t be here you know?

I look up from the pictures and say

“I know. I tried to get her to go home but she wouldn’t budge. She’s smart. She knows what she can handle and what she can’t. But I just hope she knows the gravity of what we’re dealing with.”

“I’m sure she does. She loves you. You know that? It takes a lot of effort to love someone that much.”

I smile and say

“And yet that kind of love flows so freely from her.”

I look back down at the photo album and flip a page. I reminisce about a fake Christmas we had. It was so fun.

Melina takes a small step back and looks down. Then the bathroom door opens and I step away from her to check up on y/n.

Y/n’s pov

After a while in the bathroom Nat knocks on the door. I hear her but I just don’t have it in me to answer. I feel like I’ll break down if I do.

I stay in the bathroom for a little longer and I finally get up and stand in front of the mirror.

I give myself a silent pep talk and splash my face with water. And then I dry it and open the door.

Nat is next to me in an instant asking

“Are you alright?”

I look down and just hug her tight. I squeeze my eyes shut and just hold onto her tightly.

I know Melina is watching us but I don’t care. She can stare all she wants I need this.

I thread my fingers through her hair and grip it tight. Then I tuck my face into her neck.

“I know. I know detka. I’m right here for you. I’m sorry”

I shake my head softly and then pull away.

“Don’t apologize”

We stay silent for a few seconds and I take this time to really admire her. Really take her beauty in.

Melina has gone by now.

I move some hair out of her face and say

“You’re beautiful you know that”

She smiles shyly and I say

“Talia?”

She looks at me knowing I only use that name when I’m deeply concerned or really want her attention.

“I love you. You know that right?”

Nat nods her head and I say

“Good. Because you need to know it. I love you from the bottom of my heart”

Nat smiles with a guilty face and says

“I still dont think you should go.”

I close my eyes softly in defeat and say

“If you really do not want me to go with you. Then I will respect your wishes. I can surely stay here in this house and care for the animals while you’re gone.”

Nat smiles at me and says

“I thought you’d say no.”

I send her a watery smile and say

“I could never say no to you. But if I stay you have to promise me…”

I get a bit choked up and she says

“Promise you what?”

I let a tear slip and say

“Promise me that you’ll be safe. And you’ll come home to me”

“I always do”

I shake my head and say

“I know you always do. But that reassurance is not enough this time please promise me”

She looks down and says

“I know how you feel about promises. Your father always broke promises so now you never ever make a promise you can’t keep. And I cannot imagine a world where I do not come home to you. But I cannot make a promise that I cannot guarantee I’ll be keeping.”

A few more tears slip out of my eyes and I shake my head at her and say

“Damn you Romanoff.”

She lets a tear fall too and says

“I can however promise you this. I promise, that I will be the safest I can be. I will never stop trying to come home to you. And I will use every ounce of energy I have in my body if it means I get to come home to you even one more time”

My lip quivers a bit and I nod my head but before I can say anything she continues

“I need you to know that I won’t let go. Not now. Not ever. Because it always has and always will be you at the end of the day. So if I have to expend every fiber of my being just to see you one more time so be it.”

I start full on crying now. She is saying part of her vows. She holds me close and says the rest in my ear.

“And lastly I vow that when death does decide to take my hand, I will hold you with my other.”

I nod my head and hold her again. It takes a while for me to compose myself again and I pull away from her.

I push her shoulder and say

“You made me cry god damnit!”

Then I laugh a little and she says

“It was not my intention. I just wanted you to remember how much I love you”

I smile and nod my head then I whisper

“I love you too”

Then I start giggling and Nat asks

“What’s the matter?”

I smile and say

“Mine doesn’t sound as good since you had to go and say that stuff”

She giggles with me too and says

“Yours sounds like music to my ears. It fills me just as much”

She kisses me and says

“I’m gonna go try and find Melina okay?”

I nod my head.

“I’m gonna go find Yelena and see if she’s okay”

Nat nods her head and walks off and I go in the direction I thought she went.

Natasha’s pov

I watch y/n leave and turn around and see Melina.

I go to her and see how she has a tear running down her face.

“Tell me, how did you keep your heart?”

I don’t know how to respond to that so I think and say

“Pain only makes us stronger. Didn’t you tell us that?”

I sigh and say

“What you taught me kept me alive”

She takes that in and then says

“I’m sorry I already alerted the Red Room. They’ll be here any minute”

I look at her with wide eyes and then turn my head down. My tears fall freely now. And I nod my head knowing I’m going there now.

Y/n’s pov

I get to the door where I hear Alexie and her talking when suddenly a bright blue light flashes and damn near blinds me.

It gets loud as if helicopters or planes are flying around the house and I open the door slightly and see Yelena. She shakes her head to signal that I shouldn’t go in there.

I nod my head and look down to see Alexie on the ground with about fifteen darts in his chest. That explains the thud.

She opens the door fully and walks in gun at the ready so she can make sure it’s clear.

Then she whispers

“Stay close. And stay hidden.”

I nod my head and follow her slightly. I follow behind her in the hallway as she checks to see if it is clear.

She looks down and I follow her eye sight and I see Nat unconscious on the floor. I almost gasp but someone might be here so I pull back and hide around the corner.

I cover my mouth so I don’t say anything as Yelena investigates further.

All I can do is listen so I try to use my hearing as best I can.

I hear her take a few steps and then stop and then someone else’s footsteps come from the other direction.

They speak and say

“I’m sorry”

It’s Melina. She shoots Yelena with a widows bite and Yelena falls back to where I can see her.

I am frozen in fear but I just pray that she doesn’t think I’m in this spot.

But I’m never that lucky am I?

Even before she steps to me she says

“And as for you…”

She turns the corner and says

“You really didn’t expect me to leave you here? I’m not that stupid.”

She holds up her arm to shoot me with another bite and I say

“Wait! You don’t have to do this Melina.”

She squints at me and I continue

“You can do what you should have done all those years ago. You can let us go. You can save us”

She tilts her head and says

“It is too late for that now.”

I close my eyes knowing there’s no way out of this and she shoots.

The pain that courses through me before I pass out is horrible.

If this is even a fraction of what that girl back in Budapest felt I can’t even imagine what she actually went through.

Then everything turns black.

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

I wake up in a weird hospital room. I try to get up but I’m tied to the table and I look around and see Yelena being drawn on by someone. She says

“This is a much less cool way to die”

I lay back and give up on my attempts to escape.

The “doctor” starts whirring a device I can only assume is to cut our fucking heads open or something.

Then suddenly. Yelena says

“What?”

I look at her and so do the doctors.

They approach her so I try to distract them

“What are you going to do to us?”

And they go back to their work. I let out a sigh of slight relief.

I look across the room to see Yelena being approached by these doctors again and she is reaching for something. I see her grab a knife.

God I hope this works

I just sit there and watch her go into action. She immediately cuts the closest doctor and starts fighting the rest.

She got stuck with a needle but she just pulls it out unfazed and goes and cuts me out of the straps and I thank her and follow her.

She grabs her vest and says

“You couldn’t have told me sooner?”

I look at Yelena and say

“What’s happening?”

“Melina is on comms with me. I’ve got you”

I nod my head and follow her as she continues to talk to the earpiece.

Then after she wipes the marker off her forehead and looks in a hallway she says

“Yeah sure. Easy”

I follow her eyesight up to the air vents and says

“Vents? Again?”

She smiles at my comment and we get in and I struggle and say

“What is it with you guys and air vents?”

We keep moving until we get to another place and Yelena opens the vent and drops down like Nat always does.

Then she shivers and says

“That was disgusting”

I giggle and drop down in the same way and say

“Hmm. I felt kind of cool”

Yelena smirks and says

“Great. My poser sister married a poser wife”

I smile and we continue on our way.

She goes to the wall and I nod towards the guy and say

“Let me”

She hesitantly nods her head knowing if anything goes wrong she can step in. But I handle it perfectly by using a move Natasha taught me.

He’s out and she drags him to scan his hand to let us past.

We step into a room that has security cameras and I see Dreykov slap Natasha.

That bastard. I’ll kill him.

But I tilt my head when Natasha has a cocky demeanor.

She’s playing a game.

He doesn’t know it. But I do. And when she plays games. She wins.

He slaps her again and she keeps talking but the cams don’t have volume so I dont know what they’re saying.

Yelena pulls me away from the screens to continue on our way.

We go and find the red vials that are an antidote to the chemical subjugation.

Not a good enough reason to use those big words if you ask me.

Yelena speaks to Melina and says

“Melina I’ve found the location of the vials”

And she relays the information to me

“Melina said that she’s had a slight setback and we will need to get to the widows.”

I nod my head and we move on.

We start running to wherever they are and then she says

“Fantastic I’m headed to the widows now”

I look at her and she said

“Melina just blew up one of the engines. We’re crashing. But it’s controlled.”

I nod my head

She opens the door to get to the widows and they’re all gone.

“No”

“Where are they?”

“Dreykov called the widows. He’s in trouble.”

I look at her and say

“That means that Nat got to him yes?”

She nods and says

“Which also means we need to get to them faster because if we don’t all of those widows are going to kill her”

Yelena grabs a bomb and wraps the vials around it.

I widen my eyes and we bolt.

We get there after a shit ton of turns and each of the widows are having their turn on my wife.

Yelena pulls the pin and throws the bomb in the air as Natasha never stops fighting.

I am frozen as I can only watch what is unfolding.

The widows come to and Natasha is on her knees knowing she is safe now.

I run to her as the girls are waking up from whatever chemicals had them controlled.

There is something in Nat’s shoulder and Yelena comes once and pulls us away.

Nat pats her shoulder and Yelena says

“That looks like it hurts. Okay I take it out on three ready?”

Nat nods her head and Yelena just rips it out with no warning and nat grunts really loud.

“I’m sorry”

I close my eyes a bit and just hold onto Nat’s hand.

This one girl speaks in a different language and I just look at them all. And nat responds.

“Get as far away from here as possible. You get to make your own choices now”

Then an explosion goes off and we are kind of lulled back into reality. Natasha speaks

“We gotta get out of here”

Yelena says

“Are you coming?”

“Yeah I’m right behind you”

I stay with Nat as she goes to Dreykov’s desk and does some tech stuff. I look at her and she says

“You need to go with them”

I shake my head as she logs in with his ring and I say

“Absolutely not. I can’t leave you again.”

She shakes her head and lets me stay.

I watch the screen as thousands of pictures of girls flow into a drive for Natasha to take.

Then I look over and she has to break her nose back into place and I say

“Shit. Are you okay?”

She nods and says

“I’ve been worse.”

Then the drive is finished and she pulls it out and grabs some leftover vials and says

“Let’s go! This thing is going down and it’s going down fast!”

We have to jump out of the window and I grab onto her as she grabs a wire. She points to Melina and Alexie getting into a jet.

“Go!”

I look at her and say

“I love you”

She stops for a second and says

“I love you too. So much”

I nod and then I run to the jet while Natasha finishes her business.

I get to the jet and it immediately falls and is going through an explosion.

Melina says

“We need to go back”

Then a soldier lands on the windshield and Alexie throws something at it.

I am being thrown around in here and Melina says

“We’ve lost control!”

I sigh and shake my head.

I’m going to die.

We crash and everything goes black.

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

I wake up and everything is hazy. I look around and see shrapnel falling from the sky but I don’t care. All I am looking for is Natasha. I look for any signs. And then suddenly I see something flailing around.

It’s not a something.

It’s Natasha.

And the taskmaster fighting in the fucking air.

I scream

“Nat!”

But it’s no use. It’s not like she can hear me anyways.

They land on the ground and somehow don’t fucking die.

Damn what kind of a movie am I fucking living in

I go to get up but my leg is killing me. I didn’t even notice until just now.

I look at my leg and see my ankle is broken.

I groan and all I can do is watch them fight.

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

I watch as everything unfolds.

The Red Room crashed into the ground.

Natasha ran to Yelena.

The family all came together and all I can do is watch.

I watch Natasha and I wonder if she has even thought of me yet.

I can’t hear her but suddenly they all start looking around.

Natasha looks frantic as she starts yelling.

She’s yelling my name.

Thank god

I try to get up and I use a chunk of Red Room that’s next to me to stand up but when I go to take a step the pain is excruciating and I scream out

“Gahh!!”

This alerts Melina and she points to where I fall over.

Natasha runs to me and cradles me in her arms.

I look up at her and say

“I was beginning to think you forgot about me”

I laugh softly and Natasha smiles at my inability to be serious.

She leans down and says

“I’d never forget about you.”

I tear up and say

“You did it.”

She sniffles and shakes her head

“No. No we did it.”

I nod my head

“Nat?”

She looks at me and I look at her and we both know what I want.

So she leans in ever so softly and kisses me.

This kiss is different. It feels like the one we shared on our wedding day. The one we shared when we proposed. It’s a big moment kind of kiss.

But it also is different to all of those memories. It’s like a reunion. Like on a romance movie when the lovers get separated and come together again.

When I pull away I look into her eyes and say

“We need to go.”

She nods her head and says

“Come. Let me help you”

She picks me up and I roll my eyes.

“I could walk if I tried”

She rolls her eyes and laughs softly knowing this game and says

“I’m sure you could.”

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

A/N: oh my lord this took fucking forever. Im not gonna lie I actually thought I would decompose before I finished. It got to the point where I just pulled up the black widow movie and started writing shit down almost exactly how it played out 😭🤦‍♀️

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat

#natasha romanoff #marvel #avengers #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #fanfiction #black widow #mcu

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mrs-monaghan · 1 year

Note

Hi Shaz! Im feeling so down today, i had been stressed out for the whole week as I have 2 audits and 2 assessment for this month, I dis not pass one of my assessment today. Pls give me some Jikook content to lift my spirit up 😘 I know reading ur blogs will make me feel good, that’s why I run here after hahahah

I got u my lovely. There is never shortage of Jikook content! I didn't do it when u asked me but better late than never, no?

To start us off, how soft is this image?

No seriously, how soft is that?

(Which reminds me, @youaremy-parkfilter I haven't 4go10 your ask. I just haven't had time to rewatch the episode but I will, I promise)

It's a subconscious act too, that's what I love about it. Their size difference though! Gets me everytime

I love them sm 😩😩😩😩😫😫😫😫

Okay, okay. Let's get it together. Too fluffy..too much fluff. I know just the thing to get me back on track. 😏 see this photo of JK where he looks like a professional wrecker?

No, but he really do be looking like he does indeed wreck Jimin seven days a week 🥵 Anyway, remember how he adjusts the Jungkonda during this clip? Isn't it funny who he's talking about while he does that? 🤭🤭🤭

😂🤣😂 Look, this isn't what you would call a typical Jikook moment. It's just one of those things someone with a brain like mine would notice, alright? It's JK adjusting himself, of course I noticed. But it was JK adjusting himself while talking about Jimin. 🤭🤭🤭

Moving onnnnnnn.... what do you reckon Jikook have been saying to eo all these years?

And why do they have to be that close? Its that lack of personal space thing they've always had going on 🤭

Anyway, let's do a tiny analysis because we can. I was watching this because it doesn't matter how long you've been around there is always BTS content to catch up on, and I noticed something that really tickled me.

So Jimin was asked to pretend he's preventing his gf from breaking up with him. V wanted to pretend to be the gf but JK quickly beats him to it.

He stands up incredibly fast and stops infront of Jimin 😂😂 JK did not want another member to play this role. He really wanted to be Jimin's pretend girlfriend 🤭🤭🤭

The best part though, is when Jimin still names his girlfriend Jeon Jungkook. 😂😂😂😂😂😂

I'm sorry but that was too funny to me. Jimin and his girlfriend Jungkook 🤭🤭 Not RM finding it cringy 😂😂😂 RM's reactions never fail y'all.

Then, Jimin was asked to pick an actress he would love to work with.

And so he did.

Then an outraged JK was like, what about me???

Umm... okay? You're not even on the list bro, maybe chill? 🤭😂

It's the little things guys. It's the little things. And of course satellite Jikook are sitting next to eo. 💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾💃🏾

Next I'm gonna share this extremely soft Jikook moment. Like, he didn't even hurt him. That punch was so soft and yet here Jimin is just hugging on JK and apologising for the clearly painless punch. But its the tight hug at the end for me 🥺

Alrighty! Back to another BV analysis. So remember when they went to that tourist place with all the dinosaur carcasses and Jimin was soooooooo excited? As soon as he spotted it he told us about how he loves dinosaurs

He couldn't wait to get off the ATV and ran towards it.

And there he goes telling RM all about it. Super super excited he is.

As soon as he was given the go ahead he got inside one of them.

Now, JK could you please tell us your favourite animal just one more time?

Thank you JK ☺☺☺

Out of the million things Jikook have in common, quickly add dinosaurs to the list if you haven't. 🥰🥰

While we are on BV there is this one moment that I didn't understand. Like Jimin was just there... he wasn't even talking it was RM and someone else talking. But JK was just.... staring at Mimi

Like for no reason. And as soon as Jimin turned back to his food JK quickly looks away.

This JK habit absolutely fascinates me. Like fr fr. What is it? What goes on? Like Mr. Jeon can you speak your thoughts outloud? That's your man, you've known him for years, why do you look at him like you've never seen him before? It's just... I don't understand... but I know it ain't normal. Like, friends don't just stare at their other friends for no reason.

Okay so I just thought this was cute

And this will always be very eyebrow raising for me. Why u blushing for your bandmate Jimin?

And why does JK always look so cocky when that happens? 🤔 Guess we'll never know 🤷🏽‍♀️

Satellite Jeon my favourite! Look at him be subtle!

Oh what's that? V showing Jimin his phone?

Oops, JK must know what Jimin is looking at. On time, like clockwork. Peekaboo!

This one i clicked on by accident but I'm not mad at it. For me, It's how deep Jimin's fingers are digging into an erogenous part of JK's body 😏

Sorry I'm late my dear. But hope this post finds you well 💚💚💚

In conclusion:

#bon voyage Jikook #jikook analysis #whipped jk #whipped jungkook #satellite jeon #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook is real #if jikook isn't real then neither I'm i #jikook #jimin and jungkook #kookmin #minkook #bts #jimin #jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #satellite jikook

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 9 months

Text

Evermore - Part 9

Summary: It's been 7 years since the love of your life left you behind for his career. When he decides to come back, is it too late to start anew? Will you decide to start over or realize what's been right in front of you this whole time?

Chapter Summary: This is it! Last chapter before our story splits into two endings. Peach sees that her decision isn't so black and white.

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: AFAB reader! Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is given the nickname Peach. Talk of drug/alcohol abuse.

Note: I'm going to go ahead and apologize to the Steve girlies for this one but trust the process. His ending is worth it!

Word Count: 3.1K

Steve stopped talking as soon as he saw the disheveled, flustered appearances of you both. Eyes bouncing from you to Eddie and settling back to you. His own face reflecting confusion for a split second before his mind registered what he had just walked in on before casting a crestfallen appearance.

Your cheeks were burning, you could only imagine the shade of red they currently held. Feeling like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar under the weight of his scrutinizing stare.

“Steve?” You asked, clearing your throat. “Uh, what’re you doing here?” Crossing your arms, weight shifting side to side on the balls of your feet.

“I mean, I came to talk to you, what the hell are you doing with him?” He scoffed, hand gesturing between you.

“Hey man, no need to get all pissy. Peach is a big girl; she can make her own decisions.” Eddie shot back, taking a step closer toward him, hands by his sides but in a protective stance moving more in front of you.

“Eddie, man, just butt out. I’m talking to her.” He countered. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed.

You immediately jumped in between them, deciding to interject before these two hot heads decided to duke it out in the bar: placing your palm to Steve’s chest, with Eddie to your back.

“Okay, that’s quite enough.” Looking at Eddie over your shoulder, before turning back to Steve.

“Steve, behave. And if you can’t, then go back outside. Can you give us a minute? ” He scoffed, rolling his eyes but obliged your request and moved a few feet back giving you and Eddie a little more space.

“Eddie,” you placed your hand on his arm, turning to fully face him. “I think you should go.”

“Peach, could I come back later? Maybe when you aren’t busy? We uh,” awkwardly looking at Steve for a moment over your shoulder but continued, “we could talk a little more?” He had this hopeful glint in his eye that cracked your chest wide open.

“I…This… was a mistake. You should just go.” Casting your eyes toward the floor as his hope faded into nothing. Heart shattering into a million pieces. Time to pack up, turn tail and run. End of the line.

“So, this is it?” He finally spoke, voice coming out a little strained. “Peach, please don’t let this be the last time we talk. This can’t be the end, right? You can’t stand here and act like you didn’t feel anything.”

What had he really expected from this? Good endings only happen in the movies.

“I don’t know right now Eddie.” Drowning in so many emotions, you couldn’t think clearly. Nothing felt right. You close your eyes in frustration, letting out a long breath.

“I just need time to think,” you finally settled on, as you looked back at him.

He could feel a fresh sting behind his eyes as he nodded and slowly backed away from you, giving you one more once over. Committing all he could to memory because in his mind this very well could be the last goodbye.

“Uh yeah, sure. I’ll be at Wayne’s at least for a couple more days. Goodbye Peach.” He hurriedly made his escape, effectively dodging Steve in the process. He was sure he was donning some smug smirk that he couldn’t bear to look at. The thought made his stomach churn.

Robin watched from the front seat of Steve's car as Eddie exited the Hideout, head hung low. He looked like a man that had just been hung out to dry.

She watched him trudge across the parking lot, slowly making his way over to the black sedan parked by your car.

Robin couldn't control what she was doing, as if she was on autopilot. She quickly moved from her seat and jogged over to Eddie, as he was fumbling with his keys.

“Eddie?” She said, a little apprehensively.

His head darted up to see who had gotten his attention. He shot her a brief smile, before the key finally gave way in the lock.

“Buckley. Hey. Long time.” He played coy. Preparing for yet another tongue lashing from this ghost from his past.

“Yeah, yeah it has been.” She looked down, rolling a rock beneath her shoe. “Too long really.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” He looked sheepish. Robin was always one to speak her mind. He watched her intently as she mulled it over.

“Just remember something for me. It's not just her life you're affecting by showing up like this. She means too much to a lot of people here.”

“Yeah, I know Buckley.” She didn’t need to say anything else. He knew where she was coming from.

She nodded and crossed the parking, disappearing back into the front of Steve’s car.

He knew she was right. It’d been a common theme since his arrival. Everyone reminded him of how much he’d lost.

You watched him leave. Had it been a mistake? It hadn’t felt like it at that moment. In those few quiet moments, it felt like no time had passed at all between you at all.

You were so lost in thought you had almost forgotten the other person still in the room.

“Peach, I…” Steve began, but you raised your hand, effectively silencing him, as he snapped his mouth closed.

“If you came here to give me another lecture and berate me for the choices I’ve made the past couple of days, save it. You can take your ass right out that door too.”

“No, I didn’t come here for that…” He took a deep breath, slowly releasing it. “I came here to apologize, and…”

You cautiously look him over, squinting with suspicion. He seemed nervous. In all the years that you had known Steve Harrington, you could literally count the times he had been nervous on one hand. It usually involves girls and feelings. So, what was he so worked up about?

“Seriously, Steve, what? What is wrong with you?” You huffed out, rolling your eyes in the process. Patience worn thin from this morning's antics. You were growing more agitated with his slow response.

“Can you just let me finish before interrupting me? Fuck, Peach.” He covered his face with his palms and groaned out. “Jesus Christ,” came out muffled behind his hands.

“Oh, please do, go on. This apology is off to a great start.” You snapped back.

He lowered his hands, bringing them to his hips.

“For once, just listen to me. You deserve so much better than this, better than what he put you through. How can you not see that?”

“And how the fuck would you know what's better for me? Huh?” You were tired, you hadn’t really meant to snap but it just came out and it was too late now. “Can you just go? I’m tired of talking.”

“No.” He stood a little straighter, squaring his shoulders. "I have always been here to look out for you. I can't watch you go through all of this again once he decides this isn't what he wants.”

“And who said you had to? What if this time it's different? What if this is what he wants? What I want? Don't I deserve to be happy?” You lashed out.

“Of course, you deserve to be happy! Whether that's with him or… or… someone else. I just don't want you to look back another seven years from now and wish you'd made a different choice. You can’t depend on him for your happiness!” He sighed. “You deserve someone who isn't okay with losing you!”

It was on the tip of his tongue. All he had to do was say it. Three little words that would change both of your lives forever.

The way you were currently looking at him made his chest ache. He wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms and tell you it would be ok. He would take care of you. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

You could be with him. He would make you happy. Even if you didn’t love him the way he loves you, maybe in time you could grow to love him. The way you love Maddie unconditionally, the way you care about everyone else first, putting your own needs aside. You deserve someone that would love you right and show you what you mean to them.

“Peach I…” He looked into your big, glossy eyes. You’d already been through too much.

He swallowed, “I just want you to be happy.”

“Steve… I know you do but this isn’t something you can’t help me with. I have to do this on my own. I have to figure this out on my own, but please know that whatever decision I make I wouldn’t dream of leaving my sweet baby. She couldn’t deal with her daddy on her own. I know that’s what you’re worried about,” you smiled and crossed the bar, pushing yourself into his space, wrapping your arms around his middle seeking out his comfort.

He returned your hug, pulling you in and sighing as you tucked your head under his chin.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “For always being there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He closed his eyes, kissing the top of your head before laying his cheek against you.

He was utterly fucked. His time was dwindling, and he didn’t know where to go from here, but he did know one thing as he told you as much.

“I’ll always be here for you, Peach.” And he would be, no matter what may happen next.

Eddie knew he would be leaving Hawkins a defeated man. His one chance had blown up in his face. He was a fool to think you’d ever consider taking his pathetic ass back. He felt blessed with the small amount of attention you had bestowed upon him because you were right you didn’t owe him anything.

He drove back to Wayne’s in silence, wallowing in his misery. He hadn’t even bothered with the radio.

Eddie trudged his way back into the house, sure Wayne was expecting him back at any moment.

“Wayne?” he shouted as he entered. “Hey, old man, where y’at?”

“In the kitchen Ed.”

Eddie padded through the house, leaning in the doorway as he spotted Wayne standing over the stove stirring something simmering in a small pot.

“Hey pops, whatcha cookin’?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Just heating up some soup.” He said over his shoulder, checking Eddie from the corner of his eye. “Want some? I know it’s not much.”

Wayne was getting older. Voice a little more gruff, hair that he still had turning a lot grayer. Being away seemed to rob Eddie of the time with his uncle too.

“Sure, I’m famished.” He made his way to the cabinet grabbing two bowls as Wayne went to another and produced some crackers. Sitting everything down at the small eat-in table once their bowls were full.

Eddie sat watching the way the steam wafted for a moment before he dug in. Both men ate in silence before Wayne cleared his throat, grabbing Eddie’s attention.

“Ed, I uh…” Wayne stirred his spoon into the soup as he spoke before letting it go with a small clink to the china.

“Eddie, you went to her drunk? Boy, didn’t I teach you any better than that?” Wayne grumbled out, giving him one hell of a stink eye.

“Fuck.” He was mid bite, dropping his own spoon back to the bowl. “How’d you find out about that?”

“Watch the language around the dinner table. And Jim called me this morning. Was mighty worried about you, son.” His gaze softened on the younger man. He didn’t want to berate him but maybe he could talk a little sense into him.

“Worried?” he let out an indignant scoff. “He’s got nothin’ to worry about with me.”

“Son,” Wayne fixed him with a stern look. “I may be old but I’m not stupid. You show up here unannounced, making an ass of yourself and I know alcohol isn’t the only thing that’s been runnin’ through your system. What is it? Coke? Then what, slamming the alcohol to bring you back down?”

“Uh… That,” Eddie frowned, closing his fist, rapping his knuckles against the table. “I use a little, every now and then. It’s been a hard week.” Shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, well, it’s only going to get harder the longer you use. Not to mention how hard that is on your body. Ed, listen to me, you’re a smart kid. Always have been. I’m so happy you can afford this life for the both of us, but don’t let bullshit drag you down.”

Eddie let out a small snort, smirking up. “Now who’s cussing at the table?”

Wayne just shook his head as he continued.

“Listen to me boy. If you’re serious about Peach, you need to make it clear. Don’t play any games. You and I both know you’ve put her through enough.” Eddie nodded.

“Now, I’ve said my piece. You’re a grown man, who’s going to do whatever you want but at least you know where your ole’ man stands.”

Wayne stood from his chair, clearing his bowl and laying into the sink as Eddie did the same.

“I love ya, Pop.” Eddie said to the older, much wiser man.

“I love you too, son.”

Robin was getting antsy. Her leg was bouncing as she started to pick and bite at her cuticles waiting for any sign of Steve.

When he finally appeared she beamed at him, only for him to look worse than when he had gone in. Her smile faded.

“Oh no. No. No. No.” She mutterd to herself as he made his way over to the driver’s side.

He sat in a huff, looking straight ahead. She waited a few moments before finally speaking up.

“Steve?” it came out small, squeaky.

“Don’t.” He continued to look ahead. “I didn’t tell her.”

“Steve!” She slapped his arm as she scolded him. “I swear to God if you don’t march your ass back in there and say something to her, I’ll go, and you know I won’t hold back.”

She eased her hand toward the door handle but stopped when he spoke.

“You can’t Robin. We can’t put more on her right now.” He reluctantly met her worried gaze. He looked tired, spent.

“But Steve, she needs to know! You can’t just walk away and pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. God, you are being so stupid right now!” She huffed out, throwing her head back into the headrest.

“Robin, please, just listen to me. You’re not going to say a word to her. This isn’t mine or anyone else's decision to make for her. I’m not adding to her confusion and frustration. Regardless of how she feels about me or Eddie, I know she won’t leave Maddie. She won’t leave Hawkins.”

It was a moment of clarity for Robin. She realized what he meant.

If you wanted to be with Eddie, she and Steve both knew you’d never leave Maddie. Even though she wasn’t your own by blood, there was no doubt she was yours.

He hesitantly put the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Where are we going?” Robin chimed in when he turned the opposite direction away from her house.

“I need to make one more stop.”

Eddie and Wayne just sat down to watch some TV when they heard the doorbell. Wayne mumbled a “I’ll get it” as he got up.

He was hoping in some way it was you on the other side of that door.

“Ed, it’s for you.” Wayne shouted.

He practically leapt from the couch, a little bounce in his step as his heart began to soar. Could it be?

It came crashing down the moment he saw Steve standing there instead as he halted his movement, smile fading away.

“Harrington, what are you doing here?” he grumbled out, as Wayne excused himself, as Eddie moved himself in front of the other man.

“Look, I just came here to talk. Man to man.”

“Yeah. Sure. So, talk then.” He spat.

“First of all, Peach isn’t here. Cut that bravado bullshit you’ve got going on in front of her. It’s just me here.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“And I know I’ve never been your favorite person.”

“That’s an understatement.” the metalhead mumbled.

Steve sent him a sideways glance; he didn't want to be here anymore than Eddie wanted to see him.

“Look, I think we both want the same thing here.” Steve watched him arch a brow at his words as he continued. “We truly just want what's best for her. Don’t we?”

Eddie nodded.

‘Of course, man. I know I have a lot to make up for but I’m here to do that.”

“Munson, if you leave this time there isn’t any coming back. She’s done. You get that right? You and I both know that she deserves better.”

“I know, big boy,” he grinned at him. “I’ve already made my choice; the rest is up to her.”

Steve nodded this time and turned to head back down the steps.

“Hey Steve,” he called out after him. “I owe you an apology.”

Steve eyed him suspiciously at first. They’d both been hot heads, it wasn’t really all on Eddie.

“I didn’t… Peach told me… well your kid, it’s just yours.” He was getting tongue tied thinking about it. “I’m sorry for what I said. I had no right in assuming anything. And you’re right, I haven’t been around. I don’t know jack shit about anyone here anymore.”

“It’s cool man. It’s… you didn’t know.” He wanted to say more but left it alone. “Thanks.”

“And Steve? Whatever happens I know you’ll be there for her man. She’s in good hands.”

You spent the better part of the morning and mid-afternoon at the Hideout. It was easier to work instead of confronting the multitude of feelings swirling within you.

Now that the work was done, you were headed home.

They make it seem all so simple in the movies and romance novels. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. They live happily ever after. Life is never that simple.

Eddie has made a blunderous mistake but in the process, he ripped your heart out. Were you so willing to hand it back over and expect him to proceed with care?

He wasn't there to pick up the broken pieces nor help you put it or yourself back together.

You gave your heart away so long ago; did you ever truly get it back?

Eddie had made it evident he was sticking around in Hawkins for at least a few more days.

Deep down, you didn’t need a few days. You knew the answer, you just needed to let him know once and for all.

Taglist: @josephquinnschesthair @theawkwardbutterfly @munsonmecrazy @jadedhillon @pettydonuts @angelina16torres-blog @justheretoreadleavemealone @heyyimmisunderstood @micheledawn1975 @devilslittlebabyxx @blackstabbath6 @bebe07011 @yunnie-f1 @akiratoro420 @evansslutt @sheerfreesia007 @tlclick73 @bakugouswh0r3 @vintagehellfire @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @ali-r3n @foreveranexspatsposts @sashaphantomhive @ahoyyharrington @somethingdeep @munsonzgf @sheisjoeschateau @1paire2vans

#eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #older!eddie munson #older!steve harrington #dad! steve harrington #EVERMORE #evermore part 9 #evermore wip

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cinnamontoastcrunch-15 · 10 months

Text

I WROTE SOMETHING

Based off this post by @made-by-moon because it's stuck in my brain xoxo

Emmeline burst through the door to the break room, sending Benjy and Hestia jumping a mile. Not that she cared, she was too excited for that.

"Guys! Guess who just walked in?" She asked, barely leaving enough time for a response. "Sirius! Sirius is back!" Benjy gasped, Hestia's eyes widening.

"Alone?" Benjy asked slowly, and Emmeline could feel the apprehension in the room.

They all remembered what had happened last time.

Emmeline had been looking forward to Sirius' appointment for weeks. They had designed the tattoo together, and Emmeline was proud as fuck about how it had turned out. Also, everybody was waiting to see what was going to happen between Sirius and his 'platonic best friend' Remus Lupin.

Sirius had brought Remus to every tattoo he had gotten at the parlour since he had turned 18. From the moment his hand reached out and grabbed Remus' from the chair, so harshly that his knuckles were turning white and Remus literally winced, everybody knew that there was something going on between them. Sirius had heart eyes for the man, and Remus did nothing but admire Sirius whenever he wasn't looking. From then on, they all waited in bated breath for the day that the two of them started dating.

Until Sirius walked in alone that fateful day, offering Emmeline a half hearted smile.

"Hey!" She started enthusiastically. "We can wait for Remus before getting started." He shook his head, confusion washing over Emmeline.

"S'alright, he's not coming." He answered with a shrug. "Let's just do it."

As much as Emmeline was desperate to know what had happened, she knew how to get people to open up, waiting patiently until the right moment.

"I loved your concept for this. Most fun I've had designing a tattoo in a while." She started. Sirius, who had his free hand gripping the chair for dear bloody life, smiled.

"Yeah, I- I've been really excited for this one." He said back, wincing slightly as Emmeline worked.

"Mm, did you come up with it yourself?" She asked calmly, expertly.

"Nah, Remus helped me."

"Ah, right. Is he waiting for it to be done to see it for the first time?" She asked, eyes not lifting from the needle.

"He's- he's on a date." Sirius answered, deflated. Emmeline's eyebrows raised almost involuntarily, lifting the pen and looking straight at him. Remus 'you're doing great, love' Lupin was on a date?

"Seriously?" She asked, half expecting Sirius to make the same pun she had heard millions of times before. Instead, Sirius just glanced down. "Why aren't you there with him, then?" Sirius' head snapped up, stunned, eyes widening.

"What d'you mean?"

"Sirius." Emmeline started, looking back down as she started tattooing again. "He's come to every single appointment you've gotten here for two years. We've all been waiting for you to start dating."

"Oh my god, I thought I was going mad." Sirius exhaled in a rush, and everything just started pouring out of him. "I swear to god, I was this close to actually asking him out. I finally started to think that he liked me back, maybe I wasn't insane, I was in with a chance, and then he just- he told me he was going for lunch with some guy called Edgar."

"...right."

"He forgot about this."

"Well, did you knock some sense into him, tell him he should have been here?" Sirius shook his head, inhaling sharply as Emmeline worked.

"Felt mean. Just messaged him to let him know it was happening and told him to have fun." He answered. It was Emmeline's turn to wince, then.

"Sirius..." Emmeline trailed off, trying to find a way to politely express her opinion. Sirius beat her to it.

"I know, okay? I'm a fucking coward." He groaned, letting his head drop back in his frustration. "I'm an idiot and I should have told him how I felt, but it's too bloody late now! He's going to run off with this Edgar guy and and that'll be the end of it! I'll never see him again, he'll forget I exist!"

Yeah, Emmeline thought he was being a little dramatic, but she'd opened the floodgates, she just had to let it happen.

Sirius' phone started to buzz, and he grabbed it with his free hand. Emmeline glanced up and caught a glimpse of the name 'Moony' on the screen, along with a photo of him and Remus together. Sirius picked it up quickly.

"Hey." He started, somehow managing to have pushed the deflation out of his voice. "Yeah, I am. No, don't worry, it's fine, I'm not mad. You don't have to do that, I'm okay. Mhm. No, I don't want to screw up your date, don't leave. Yeah, I'm fine. Honestly. Okay, cool. See you later, Moons." He hung up, setting the phone back down. "He offered to come now." Sirius explained to Emmeline, who had stopped tattooing for a second so that Sirius could think throughout the phone call.

"What, is his date over?" Emmeline asked, Sirius shaking his head in response. "So he offered to abandon his date to come and hold your hand." She said to him, stunned that he wasn't seeing what everybody else was. "And you said no."

"Yeah, I did." Sirius said, sounding confused. "I didn't want to screw up his afternoon."

"Why the hell did you say no?! Friends don't leave their dates because their friend is getting a tattoo, Sirius!" Emmeline wanted to drag the two of them into a small room and lock it until they sorted their shit out, honestly. This would have to do, instead. "If I wasn't currently inking something permanently onto your arm, I would be telling you to bloody run to him." She said, shaking her head to herself.

None of them had seen him since.

A month had passed, no appointments made, everyone wondering what the fuck was happening between the two of them. If anyone was bored in the staff room, they'd talk about Remus and Sirius. Speculate, make bets, they needed to know what had happened.

That was why Emmeline was over the moon when he walked through the door.

"Not alone. With Remus, Remus is back!" She exclaimed, Hestia letting out a cheer and Benjy clapping.

"Is it too much if we all go and say hi? I need to know if they've sorted their act out." Hesita said. "Oh, I fucking love walk in Wednesdays!"

"Let's just go out together." Emmeline said and, as Benjy and Hestia stood from the table, "Wait! Bets now, are they together or still 'best friends'?"

"Oh, they have to be together." Hestia said, Benjy nodding in agreement.

"Mm, I'm not so sure. Sirius is scarily good at pretending to be unbothered by Remus dating."

With that, they all walked out into reception.

Sirius and Remus were sat side by side, Remus' arm snaked around Sirius' waist as he listened to Sirius talking. They were quite clearly oblivious to the three artists watching, as Remus leaned in and kissed Sirius, cutting him off. Emmeline's eyes widened as they both pulled away.

"What was that for?" Sirius asked, a little breathless. Remus just shrugged.

"Wanted to." He answered, smile on his face. Benjy cleared his throat, the two of them jumping a mile.

"Are we interrupting something? Something long overdue, maybe?" He asked. Sirius, who was quite clearly biting back a smile, apologised quickly.

"Sorry, sorry. We're, uh... we're actually getting matching tattoos, this time." Sirius said gently, Remus reaching out and grabbing his hand.

Fucking finally.

#i love them #absolute sillies #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

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helios-writings · 1 year

Text

Would That I

Knight! Vash x Royalty! Reader

wc: 5.3k

Warnings: brief mentions of blood, losing an arm.

You are second in line for the throne and Vash is your personal guard, after years of pining, you confess your love and loyalty to each other, but cannot be together.

You grinned as you moved the chess piece, ending the game with a swift checkmate. Vash groaned, leaning back in his chair in defeat. You tried to look anywhere but his exposed arms and exposed throat.

“You win again,” he told you, smiling, “I’m going to have to start practising.”

You stood up from the chair, dusting yourself off. “Oh? And who would you practise with? You said yourself that Sir Wolfwood’s a cheat and Lady Meryl scares you too much to even try to play against her.”

“I’ll start picking up books from the castle library.”

The two of you walked shoulder to shoulder towards the garden’s entrance and Vash had an uncharacteristic frown on his face.

“You’ve been quiet all day.” You told him, a hand lightly placed on his arm. You could feel his body heat through your glove.

“I leave tomorrow. I’ll be gone for a month, at the least. Three at most.”

“Where will you go?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, some town on the outskirts has had trouble with bandits, we’re being sent to get rid of them. Wolfwood, Milly and myself. A few others.”

“Can I see you off?”

“You must, I fear I’d perish without a good luck farewell from the royal highness themself.”

Three months without your best and closest friend, the aspect made tears threaten to well up in your eyes. “Write to me?”

He ceased his teasing and took your hand in his, clutching it to his chest, his blue eyes looking into your own. “Every week. I’ll even bring you back a souvenir.”

“Just bring yourself back in one piece.”

The air between the two of you was charged with something you couldn’t name, but it faded quickly when he dropped your hand and made his way back towards the barracks.

You watch him until he disappears from your sight and you wonder how you’re supposed to sleep knowing that tomorrow morning could be the last time you see him.

***

Vash is awake before dawn, the sky still an ugly grey. He’s loath to leave your side, but knows you’ll be safe within the kingdom’s walls. He holds the horse’s reins tightly, knuckles turning white and looks out, searching for any sign of you.

Wolfwood and Milly are atop their own horses, but it’s the former who says something.

“We can’t wait for much longer, Vash, the other knights have already left. You sure they're coming?”

He nodded firmly. You wouldn’t lie to him.

Like you’d been summoned, you came tearing down the main square in our sleep clothes, a robe pulled tight around you. The sight made his heart swell.

“Wait! Vash, don’t leave yet!”

Milly and Wolfwood stifled their laughs as you reached them, chest heaving. “Sorry I’m late.”

He hopped off of his horse and you pulled him into a crushing hug, burying your face in his chest.

“Hey,” he whispered, “it’s going to be okay.”

“It doesn’t make sense to send you when you're my bodyguard.”

“But I’m still a knight.”

“I want you to stay here with me. What if you don’t come back?”

He raised your head to look you in the eyes. “I would fight through a million enemies to come back to you.”

“Remember to write to me. Please.”

Vash kissed your hand before he could decide against it. “Every week.”

You bit your lip, like you were going to say something and then decided against it.

“Vash, we’ve gotta go!” Milly called and he sighed.

You grabbed his arm and you crashed your lips to his. He didn’t get a chance to revel in the feeling before you pulled away from and ran back towards the castle. Vash could feel tears on his face, but they weren’t his.

***

The months without Vash were hard and almost too much for you to handle, but letters came every week from Vash, just like he’d promised. Every letter had a flower pressed between the pages.

Meryl, though she thought it was annoying that you kept re-reading his letters during her lessons, knew that there were few people in this world as important to you as Vash. Your own family didn’t even make the list. Being king, queen and the heir to the throne meant that they didn’t have time for you.

It was strange to be anywhere without the blonde knight, you went everywhere together. Joined at the hip, more than a normal royal and their knight should be. Where once there was laughter by your side, there was silence.

You wondered if you had ruined everything with that kiss, however brief it was. When he returned, would he even want to see you? Would he choose to return as your bodyguard? Or would he ask to be replaced, effectively never seeing you again?

He never said anything as such in the letters, but you knew him to be a good liar, a man who never let anyone truly know what he was thinking. He never mentioned the kiss, either.

For you, it was all you had thought about, even before. You knew you had loved Vash for a long time, maybe not love at first sight, but when you got to know him. Maybe when the both of you had turned into teens, when arms and legs were less lanky and voices were deeper. But the when didn’t matter as much as the why. When Vash was as kind and as brave as he was. Always eager to help others, no matter the cost. Even if the cost was his life. It’s why you had been so scared for him to leave, because if it had come down to saving a life and him, he would always choose the former.

The door to the library burst open, and a guard stormed in. “Your highness, the knights have returned.”

You stood, the books piled on your lap spilling to the ground. “Where are they?”

“The clinic. They were all injured, but no fatalities.”

You thanked the guard before rushing out the door. You needed to see him, needed to hold him in your hands to make sure he was actually here and safe.

You slammed the doors to the clinic open, searching the faces for Vash.

Wolfwood, who you didn’t know too well, approached you from the side. “Vash got a private room. Through there.”

You thanked him, before taking off towards the closed door. When you opened it, you gasped.

Vash was on a bed, armour stripped off, fresh scars riddling his body. He sat up slowly. “Told you I’d come back.”

A sob tore its way out of your throat and you collapsed by his bedside.

He took your hand in his.”Hey, it’s alright. I’m okay. It’s not even that bad.”

“You’ve been stabbed. Multiple times, how is that not bad?”

“Well, fighting off millions of enemies to get back to you will do that.” He said with a chuckle and wince.

“Let’s keep it to one enemy at a time.”

“I got you something.” He told you, rubbing a circle into the back of your hand.

“You didn’t need to.”

He shrugged, wincing again. “It reminded me of you, I had to buy it. When I can stand without help, I’ll give it to you.”

You glanced at the closed door and leaned forward, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Vash was silent for only a moment before he opened his mouth to say something, interrupted by the healer entering the room.

“He’s not supposed to have visitors,” she told you, “even if they are royalty. I’m sorry.”

You nodded and stood up. “Of course, I’ll come back when he’s ready.”

The healer smiled as you bid her farewell and once you were outside of the clinic, you let the tears fall. He had come back to you. Just like he’d promised.

***

Vash is young when he sees you for the first time. You’re young too, but the weight on your shoulders is too heavy. Second in line for the throne but you are already weighed down by a crown you won’t wear.

The knight captain brings him towards your parents and your father nods in approval. You hide behind your mother’s skirts.

The king beckons you forward and you obey, curtsying when you see him. Vash bows, because that was what he was taught.

“This is Vash,” the knight captain introduces him, “we’ve already begun training him to be a knight.”

The king and queen scan him up and down, like he is a horse up for auction. “Perhaps he’d fare better as a bodyguard for our youngest child.”

You look him in the eyes for the first time, and Vash has decided that it wouldn’t be so bad to protect you.

It's something he thinks even now, as he fought to stay alive during his mission, as he saw the necklace that reminded him of you, as he read the words you wrote back to him.

He thinks of the two kisses you had given him, yearning for more, like they were a drug. Like you were a drug. Maybe you were, maybe that would explain how he’d loved you for so long.

It was selfish, perhaps, to keep you so close to him. To take your hand in his so often, to hold you with the intimacy of a lover. You were so beloved to him, it was impossible to think he’d be the same to you.

The box was heavy in his hands as he stood outside of the door to your chambers, now allowed to leave the clinic since he’d healed. He knocked once, quietly, since it was late.

You opened it, your face painted with the soft glow of candlelight. “Vash, I didn’t know you were better, I would’ve come to visit.”

“May I come in?”

“You never need to ask.”

The two of you stood in your room, the door closed and the curtains drawn, no one around to see.

“This is what I got you.” He handed you the box, his gaze averted.

“Vash….this is gorgeous.”

“I said it reminded me of you, didn’t I?”

He knew the necklace, a simple pearl on a gold chain, wasn’t as extravagant as the other things you owned, but it was still beautiful.

You handed him the necklace and turned around. “Help me put it on?”

Carefully, like he was handling a china doll, he clasped the jewellery around your neck, the pearl sitting in the hollow of your throat. His fingers brushed your neck. He wondered what it would be like to press a kiss against the nape of it.

“How’s it look?”

“You look….I mean, it looks beautiful.”

You bit your lip, and without thinking, he reached up and brushed your lip with his thumb. The skin was soft.

“Vash….”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Anytime you want.” You sounded breathless. Stunned.

He pulled you into a kiss, a proper kiss, and it took his breath away. You were warm against him. The fabric of your night clothes bunching up where his hands sat, the bare skin against his hands scorching. More, more, more, his mind supplied, but he’d never take more than you offered him.

Without realising it, he’d ended up sitting on a chair, your body above his, kissing him as deep as you possibly could, as close as you could, like you could never be close enough, his hand edging underneath your shirt. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you no matter how close the two of you got.

You pulled away, eyes heavy lidded and lips swollen. “I love you.”

The words left him breathless, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What?”

“I love you, I am in love with you.”

He placed his head on your chest, pulling you closer, ignoring how his cock jumped at the movement. “I love you too. So, so much.”

You raised his head and kissed him again, And again. The two of you spent what seemed like hours kissing. It was all he’d ever wanted.

***

You and Vash had three days of peace before disaster struck. An attack on an allied kingdom had signified an oncoming war and even though it had only been about a month since Vash’s last mission, you could tell he was going to be sent out again, and soon.

This thought haunted you. This war could kill him and although you know he’d be happy to die protecting this country, and by extension you, you couldn’t allow that to happen. You wouldn’t.

You cornered Vash in a secluded area of the library, the shelves hiding you from prying eyes. He grinned and leaned in for a kiss, but you stopped him, biting your lip.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“You’re going to be sent out on a mission again. What if something happens to you?”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. A million armies, remember?”

You were silent for a few moments before you spoke again. “I want to run away. From the kingdom, from everything. With you.”

Vash’s eyes widened in shock, and he was speechless for what seemed like years. “I….can’t do that.”

“And why not?”

“I just can’t, you don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

When he was silent, you scoffed and stormed off, not caring about how petulant you may have seemed. You can hear his footsteps behind you, but you don’t slow down, not even as you make it upstairs to your room.

You slam the door to your chambers, only for them to open back up shortly after, the footsteps of your knight stopping behind you.

“I can’t run away with you,” Vash tells you, his voice desperate and tear filled, “if we leave here, you could die and you’re too important. I am not important enough for you to abandon everything for.”

You whirl on him and shove him so hard, he nearly stumbles into the door. “Damn you, Vash, you’re important to me! Can’t you see that? Or are you blinded by your own sense of duty, of obligation, that you can’t see that I would sacrifice anything to keep you safe? To keep you here? With me?”

His gaze was averted from yours, hidden by his blonde hair. “I can’t take you away from this life. You have to understand-“

“I’m tired of hearing that word. Understand. Understand that I must leave to fight in a foolish war. Understand that you must live your life constantly under guard. Understand that we can’t be together even though we want it over everything else in the world. As long as I remain here we can’t be together, we will always kiss in secluded corners or empty rooms. My running away is about more than you, it’s about being free, being free from the family that doesn’t care about me, being free from the weight that’s on my shoulders, but I want to do that with you. You’re my family now, you always have been.”

Once again, he said nothing, and you sighed heavily. “Just leave.”

He opened the door, but before he left, he stopped in the doorway. “I leave a week from now. Early in the morning.”

The door shut and you heard him walk away.

***

You didn’t see him off, that was all Vash could think about as he rode on horseback through the woods towards the border of the kingdom. He figured you wouldn’t, not after that argument. It’s the longest you’d been without talking to him.

He did wonder, however brief, what it would be like to run away with you. Would the two of you live in a cottage in a faraway forest, or would you live in a bustling town with fake names and disguises? But he couldn't, no matter how tempted he was. You were the whole world to him, he would kneel to you and fight for you, even if it meant never being together the way he had dreamed about, he wasn’t worth your devotion. Wasn’t worth running away from all you had known.

He thinks of the letter he left in the hands of Meryl. “In case I don’t come back,” he’d told her, but now he was unsure if that was the right choice. He should’ve given it to you himself, but he was afraid that if he’d seen you, he would’ve abandoned everything he knew and taken you in his arms and ran away with you, wherever you had wanted.

The loyalty he felt to you was unwavering, but he couldn’t put it above the loyalty he had to the crown. Then again, the crown may have taken him in after his brother disappeared, but it was you that had gotten him to open up, gotten him to smile and laugh. He was a fool to tell you he wouldn’t run away with you, because now that is all he wanted to do. But it was too late.

“It’ll be okay Vash,” Milly said, coming up next to him on her horse, “I’m sure they just overslept. Meryl said they hadn’t been sleeping lately.”

“Maybe, Milly. I’m sure they’ll be okay.”

“You can always write a letter when we get there.” Wolfwood chimed in.

Vash was going to write you a letter everyday, even if you didn’t want them. He would pour his heart and soul and dedication into all of them. He loved you and even if he died in this stupid war, he was going to make sure you knew that.

***

When the first letter from Vash comes, you crumple it and throw it away, only to dig it out of the trash and cry immediately after. Vash was a bastard and you wanted to hate him with every fibre of your being, but you couldn’t.

You didn’t write back. Even after letter after letter came and didn’t stop. It felt a little foolish, giving him this silent treatment, but the heartbreak you felt wasn’t foolish, it was real and it still hurt, even if it was coming up on a year since Vash had left.

When the 365th letter had come, you finally wrote back. You missed him more than you were angry at him, and it was slowly killing you to watch the pile of letters grow, unopened but weathered.

A letter doesn’t get sent back.

You’re not angry, you figured this might be a possibility. He has a right to be just as angry as you were, and you would not deny him that. You would never deny him anything.

When months pass by with no letter from Vash, you begin to fear the worst. The best case scenario is that he’s alive and angry with you, but the worst ones always have him dead on a battlefield, covered in blood. It scares you the most, losing him like that, where his last thoughts of you are of you being angry at him. You were such a fool, being so selfish when he has only ever thought of what’s best for you, even when he told you he wouldn’t go with you, it was for you.

There’s a knock on your chamber door and you tell whoever it is to come in, not turning from your spot by the window.

“If I’d have known I would get this warm reception, I would’ve come back home sooner.” The familiar voice dripping with sarcasm.

You whirled around in your chair with a gasp, tears welling up in your eyes. It was Vash.

You stood up from your seat and pulled him into a hug, burying your sobs into his neck. “I thought you were dead, or worse.”

“Not dead, but not entirely back in one piece like you’d prefer.”

It was then you noticed that he was missing an arm and you gasped. “Oh Vash….”

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“I’m so sorry…”

He shook his head. “I’m not. Like I told you. A million armies to come home to you.”

“They won’t let you be my guard anymore. I can’t let them take you away from me again. I just got you back. I won’t let them.”

He put his hand on your face. “Weren’t you the one that wanted to run away? Well, then let’s run away.”

“Are you sure?”

Vash sat on your bed, pulling you down next to him. “When I was out there, I did a lot of thinking, especially when I was in the makeshift clinic. You are where I’m safest, my home. And I realised that I want to marry you, I want to be with you, and we can’t do that here.”

You hugged him, knocking him onto the bed with the force of it and he laughed. “So, you’re not angry with me anymore?”

You wiped the tears from your eyes. “When you didn’t reply to my letter, I feared the worst and I couldn’t bear the thought of your last memory of me being anger.”

“Well, I did think I was going to die, but my last thought of you was about how happy you make me, how I finally got to hold you in my arms after so many years of wishing I could.”

“You’re the most important person in the world to me. So, let’s do it. Let’s run, right now.”

“In the middle of the day? We’d get caught, especially you, you’re the second in line and you stick out like a peacock in the middle of a flock of pigeons.”

“Tonight then?”

His hand gripped yours. “Tonight. I can borrow clothes from Meryl or Wolfwood if I have to, you could even wear some of mine. I’ll leave them by your door later.”

“You sound pleased at the notion of me in your clothes.”

“Of course. I think you’d look lovely in them.”

You rolled your eyes, but frowned. “I have to say goodbye to Meryl before we leave, she’s been a good friend to me lately, I can’t bear to leave her without a proper farewell.”

“She won’t turn us in?”

You thought of Meryl’s own relationship with her knight, Milly, and shook your head. “No, I think she’ll be happy for us.”

Vash nodded. “Alright then, I’ll see you tonight, in the gardens.

“By our chess table.”

He rushed out the door and when the door slammed shut, you picked up the most boring bag you owned and began to pack.

***

The night was clear and crisp, Vash could see his breath appear in little clouds before him. He was glad the two of you were running on a night as pretty as this.

You showed up a few moments later, the pants Meryl’s but the shirt was his, a cloak wrapped around you.

“Did you see Meryl?” He asked, taking your hand in his.

“Yes, she said she wouldn’t tell anyone she saw us and wished us luck. She also gave me this to give to you.” You pulled out the letter he had given the woman in case he hadn’t made it back to you. He let go of your hand to shove it in his pocket.

“Now, we can’t go out the front gate, but we can’t climb the wall. What do we do?”

You grinned, pulling him along with you until you stopped in front of an old iron wrought gate. “It’s basically abandoned, no one comes back here anymore. I found it when I was little.”

“Does it still open?”

Nodding, you let go of his hand and pulled the handle. The gate opened with a loud creak and you quickly ushered him through so you could close it.

And then you were free, almost.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “All we have to do is make it to the edge of the kingdom. It’s a few days of a walk, but Wolfwood will be waiting with a horse. The rest is up to us.”

You pulled him into a kiss, your nose cold as it accidentally bumped his own. “I’m thinking somewhere with lots of people, but not in town.”

He put his arm around you and pulled you in close. “So, a little cottage just outside of town?”

“With a dog and a cat. And our horse, of course.”

He snickered. “You rhymed.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him another quick kiss before pulling away. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Then let’s go.”

***

It took a week to get to the edge of the kingdom, where Wolfwood was waiting.

He handed the reins to Vash and then bowed to you. “Highness.”

You shook your head and wrinkled your nose. “No, not anymore. And no bowing, either.”

The knight grinned. “That an order?”

You rolled your eyes and got on the horse, Vash following.

“I’ll write to you when we’re safe.” Vash told him, a grin on his face.

“You’d better, or I’ll come kick your ass.”

“You won’t even know where we are.”

Wolfwood rolled his eyes. “Then I’ll knock on every door until I find yours.”

As you and Vash rode off into the forest, no longer within your kingdom’s territory, you turned and watched as Wolfwood disappeared into the distance, and with it, the only life you had ever known.

Your hands tightened around Vash as you buried your face into his back to stop the oncoming tears.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft and kind, full of concern.

You sniffed, embarrassed. “I know it was my choice to leave, but it hurts. I thought it’d be easier, that's all.”

“If you want to cry, I promise to pretend not to hear.”

You let out a laugh that was thick with tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too, we’ll get through this together, okay?”

You nodded. “Together.”

You stared out into the forest ahead of you, the trees so much like the ones back home but so different at the same time, holding promises of a new future where you wouldn’t feel ignored, where you were more than royalty. Where Vash remained at your side even when you didn’t have any jewels or a crown.

***

You and Vash decide to stay just outside a bustling town that’s right by the sea, in a cottage that you buy for almost nothing. And it is far, far away from home, where no one will ever find you.

Vash laments not being able to carry you inside, but you silence him with a kiss, insisting that it doesn’t matter, now that you’re with him and that everything is perfect.

Vash peeks at your empty left ring finger and thinks that there’s one more thing that would make a perfect start to your brand new life. So, early one morning, before you wake up, he heads into the already energetic town to shop for a ring.

The owner greets him happily, using the fake name he had given the first day the two of you had arrived and offers his assistance.

“Well, I need an engagement ring. Something to give someone that gave me everything even when I had nothing to offer.”

“Pretty hefty guidelines there, but I’ve got a few for you, being a seaside town and all, a lot of our rings have pearls, is that alright?”

He grinned. “That’s perfect.”

Vash spends a little longer in town, picking up groceries and something else for you, just because he sees it and thinks of you.

When he gets back home, you’re at the stove, cooking. He goes up behind you and presses kisses on your neck, making you laugh.

“Went shopping, did you?” You ask, turning your head to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I got you something. Close your eyes.”

“I can’t, I’ll burn the eggs.”

“It’ll be one second.”

You roll your eyes but comply and Vash presses the gift in your hand, the ring tucked safely in his pocket for later.

You gasp when you gaze at the gift. A small music box in pale blue. “Oh Vash….it’s gorgeous.”

“I saw one like it in your room back….well, I know it won’t replace the one you left behind, but I had to try.”

“I love it, I love you.” You kissed him again and again and again. Until the smell of burning made the both of you jump back in surprise, causing you to dump the pan in the sink, dousing it with water while he turned off the stove.

“I knew I should’ve listened to Meryl when she talked about cooking.” You told him with a sigh.

He put his arm around your waist and pulled you in close. “It was my fault that time, so don’t feel bad sweetheart.”

You kissed his nose. “Well, I hope you’re not hungry.”

The ring was burning a hole in his pocket, but he decided to wait until tonight, for the perfect moment.

***

The dining room is lit only by candlelight as you come back into the house from putting the horse away for the night and the smell of dinner wafting from inside, making your stomach growl.

“You did all of this while I was out?” You asked, toeing your shoes off by the door and heading deeper into the house.

“It was simple, but I wanted to do something for you.”

You sighed and shook your head. “You do enough, Vash.”

He kissed your cheek. “It’ll never be enough. You’re the love of my life, and I’m going to spend my entire life trying to show you that.”

“Vash, I’m the one who should be thanking you. You’ve already given me everything.”

He shook his head. “I’m trying to propose to you, but it’s not going like I wanted it to.”

Vash reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, inside was a ring, dainty in size, but gorgeous all the same.

A thin gold band and a cluster of tiny diamonds surrounding a pearl.

“This is gorgeous…. I don’t know what to say.”

He laughed nervously. “I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

You kissed him deeply and he slid the ring onto your finger. It was almost hard to believe you would get something like this in life, that you and Vash weren’t doomed.

“So,” he said between kisses, “is this a yes?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes. And I know just the way to celebrate.”

You took him by the hand and led him into your bedroom.

***

The ring on your finger glinted in the morning sun as Vash woke up with a stretch, your bare skin covered by the less than luxurious sheets, but you had a content smile on your face as you slept.

He thought back to all those months ago, when you were royalty and he was your knight, when the both of you thought that’s all your relationship would ever be, kisses in corners and hands held under the chess table. Now you’re both here, where no one knows who you are and where the two of you can be together until you’re old and grey and he can’t get out of bed without throwing his back out. The thought makes him laugh, and you stir awake.

You grin sleepily at him. “Morning.”

He grins back. “Morning.”

“Are you watching me sleep?”

“Your snoring woke me up, actually.”

You roll your eyes and smack him playfully. “Bully.”

He pulls you into his chest and kisses the top of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Vash always thought that when he looked at you, he saw his future. And he was right.

#character☀️: vash the stampede #fandom☀️: trigun #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede x you #vash x reader #vash x you #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #reader insert #sunbathing with: vash #daylightarchive

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ganseybois · 6 months

Note

OMG I GET TO PROMPT YOU

Buck/Tommy are happy and have been dating, and Tommy's the one that tells Buck he can't give Buck what he wants

And he also tells him (kindly and sweetly) that Buck already has what he wants and has had it for years

AND MAYBE INCLUDE THAT RESOLUTION WITH A BUDDIE SCENE AT THE END? PLEASE?

HELLO LOVE here you go :) send me a prompt here!

“I don’t understand,” Buck says softly, trying very, very hard not to cry. “I thought…I thought I was doing everything right this time.” He laughs, a pitiful, horrible thing–right Buckley, like you can do anything right.

“Hey,” Tommy places a hand on his - they’re in the loft, and Tommy has just broken up with him. “Buck, really, it’s nothing that you did. Not really. I just don’t think it’s going to work out for us.”

“But why?” he presses. “We’ve been okay. We haven’t even fought.”

Tommy sighs, looking at Buck so kindly, which makes this a million times worse. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“That’s not true!” he exclaims. “It’s not. I really like you, Tommy, this, we can fix this, I can fix this.”

“Evan, hey, stop.” Tommy touches the side of his face. He is being so gentle with him, so fucking gentle, that Buck does, in fact, start to cry. “This isn’t on you at all. It’s not on either of us, not really. I just...am not the right guy for you, that’s all.”

Buck shakes his head. “Seems like no one ever is.”

Tommy smiles that sweet smile that he has, and looks at Buck with kindness, and true sincerity, and that makes Buck feel a thousand times worse. “Evan, the things you want? Family? Security? Love? It’s all right in front of you. You just can’t see it.” He leans back. “But don’t worry, because neither can the other guy.”

“Other–what?” Buck wipes his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Tommy sighs, and shakes his head. “Eddie, I’m talking about Eddie.”

Panic rises in his chest, and he shakes his head. His feelings about Eddie are a tangled, complicated thing, and he has been very careful with them throughout the years. “Tommy no, I-I told you, there’s nothing going on. I..we’re just friends.”

“Right,” Tommy is still smiling, despite it all. “I know there’s nothing going on. I know you’re just friends. But you shouldn’t be. The two of you keep circling each other, and…as much as I like you Evan, I also deserve better.”

Hurt, Buck looks away, guilt rising easily in his chest. “I’m sorry.” he mumbles.

“Don’t be, really. We can’t help who we love.” Tommy sighs. “But we can at least try and be happy.” He leans forward and kisses Buck on the cheek. “So go be happy, Evan.”

***

“Buck?” Eddie rubs his eye as Buck practically stampedes through his home. It’s late, it’s very late, Eddie’s hair is a mess, he’s in his sweatpants and a white tank top, and the house is dark. He was deeply asleep, but Buck kept calling until he woke up. “Everything okay?” he asks. “What happened?”

Buck nods, even though his heart is beating a million miles a second. “Can we talk in your room? I don’t want to wake Chris.”

“Sure, come on,” Eddie pats Buck on the back, closing the bedroom door when they make it in.

When the door is closed, Buck rounds on him before Eddie can turn the light on or try and sit on the bed. “Why did you break up with Marisol?” he asks.

Eddie seems genuinely surprised by the question, frowning as he walks over to the bedside table. He flicks on the lamp and sits on the bed. “I told you already, it just wasn’t right. We didn’t fit.”

“Why didn’t you fit?” Buck stands right in front of him, so Eddie has to look up at him. Eddie’s eyes flash with something Buck can’t name.

“What’s wrong with you?” Eddie asks, his eyes flittering over Buck’s expression, like he’s not sure where to look.

“Why didn’t you fit?”

“I don’t know, man, I figure if I have to try so hard then it’s not really worth my time, right?” his eyes dance over Buck’s lips, and then Eddie quickly looks away, down at his knees. “You drove all the way here to ask me that?”

Buck sits next to Eddie on the bed.

His feelings for Eddie are strange - they always have been. He’s always been careful to never let it cross the line, no matter how much he wanted to.

But he tests the waters, he puts a hand on Eddie’s knee.

Eddie tenses, but doesn’t push his hand away. Doesn’t stop him, here in the intimate light of Eddie’s bedroom.

“Tommy broke up with me.” Buck says softly. “Because he thinks he wasn’t the right fit for me.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie replies immediately, looking over at him - he can see Eddie means it, too. Eddie wants him to be happy. “I know how much you wanted it to work.”

Buck takes his hand back, but he’s looking at Eddie intently. “Haven’t you ever wondered why neither of us can seem to find something that works? Doesn’t it bother you?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugs. “It could be worse. I have you and Chris, I don’t really need anything else. I’d rather be alone from now on then try and be something I’m not.”

Something catches in Buck’s throat. “You know…I love you for who you are, Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie punches his knee tenderly. “I love you too.”

“No, I mean, I know, but no.” he sighs, irritated with himself. Shakily, he puts a hand on Eddie’s face, turning it again so that Eddie can look at him. “I mean, I love you for who you are, Eddie.” When he sees Eddie’s eyes go wide, he continues swiftly, knowing that if he doesn’t spill it out all at once, it’s all over. He has to take his chance, and if it bites him in the ass, he will stay Eddie’s friend because having this is better than having nothing at all. But he can’t hold it in any longer. “I love you, I am in love with you, and I have been for years - and I chalked it up to the fact that this is how best friends are, but…I’m so tired, Eddie. I don’t want to perform anymore either.” He can’t help it, he runs a thumb along Eddie’s cheekbone. “I’m sorry if this ruins everything but-”

Eddie kisses him.

It’s a tired, gentle kiss, Eddie is both in shock and half asleep, but his lips are soft and tender, and his hand reaches to cup Buck’s face as well. It’s over too soon, but when Eddie pulls back, he takes a moment to kiss each of Buck’s cheek, and then his nose, and then another small peck on his lips. Buck feels more affection in those movements than he ever has in his life.

Buck sighs, eyes still shut, afraid to open them and find this is a dream. “Everyone keeps kissing me when I’m talking. I guess I should take the hint.”

“Well, hopefully, I’ll be the only one kissing you to shut you up moving forward.” Eddie laughs softly, and Buck opens his eyes – Eddie is staring at him with love. A beautiful smile on that stupidly handsome face. “Actually, don’t count on it. I like hearing you speak.” He runs a thumb along Buck’s bottom lip. “Stay the night?” he asks softly. “We can talk some more.”

Buck tucks his face by Eddie’s neck, deliriously happy. “I’ll stay every night, forever, Eddie, if you’ll have me.”

“Sure you won’t get bored of me?” Eddie kisses the top of his head.

“Impossible.”

Eddie chuckles, leaning back so Buck can look at him. “Come on, I have clothes for you. You’ve upgraded from the couch to the bed, Buck.”

It’s that, that makes Buck’s eyes fill with tears again, as he leans in to kiss Eddie again, and again, and again…

#buddie #buck x eddie #prompt #911 prompt #buddie prompt #ask #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard

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runningthroughthegarden · 1 year

Note

Hi how are you ❤️? You write amazingly well <3

I was wondering, if you take requests, if you could write a Jack/Ethan fic inspired by "You're Losing Me" by Taylor Swift. (You can decide the ending, line sad or not)

Thanks you 💕

thank you!! yall love being heartbroken, me too!! requests are open, i love doing them :)

you and jack had been dating for a year when he got offered a role in scream vi. you were more than excited for him, even though it meant you would be spending a lot of time apart. you both decided you would do everything in your power to make it work, but lately that was proving to be easier said than done. the last couple of days you could barely get in touch with him. whenever he did reply it was small or dry remarks. you felt lonely in the apartment you once shared. sitting, staring at the walls that were once filled with laughter and love. feeling your phone buzz you are quick to check the notification.

“hey babe sorry ive had a long day on set”

“jack we havent talked in days. i don't understand”

“i know you don't. listen i’ll call you tomorrow”

crashing on your bed, tears begin to dwell in your eyes.

you say, "I don't understand" and I say, "I know you don't"

we thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won't

remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light

now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time

pacing your room with your phone up to your ear you begin to grow anxious. jack broke his empty promise and didn’t call you. so now here you were, trying to piece it back together. as the ringing stops, a smile is cast across your face.

“jack!! hey, i miss you”

“hey what did you want”

“well you said you were gonna call and i just wanted to check up on you”

“im a little busy right now”

“oh okay maybe we can call again later”

a deep sigh is his only response.

“is everything okay?”

“no everythings not okay! i cant get anything done when youre bothering me all day. im working and all you want to do is talk about your day. im sorry but i really don't care right now”

“oh okay. i’ll let you go”

throwing your phone onto your bed, you break down in sobs.

do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

i'm getting tired even for a phoenix

always risin' from the ashes

mendin' all her gashes

you might just have dealt the final blow

you spent the evening on your bed, shaking with tears streaming down your eyes. you could only thing about how good things used to be. when you had a boyfriend who absolutely adored you. now it seemed like you had no one at all. your heart was racing a million hours per hour and yet you felt absolutely nothing.

stop, you're losing me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore... for you

'cause you're losing me

after that night, that call, you made it a point to stay out of jacks way. he would facetime you every now and then. while he got his hair done, goofing around on set, or just in his trailer. none of these times did he seem to notice that none of your smiles reached your eyes. your replies were empty and solemn. you were happy to see him so excited but apart of you hated him for not realizing what he had done. for not realizing how deep his words had truly affected you.

“hey you okay”

biting your nails behind the screen

“lately not really” you honestly replied.

“hang on mason's gotta tell me something. i’ll call you later. love you."

every mornin' I glared at you with storms in my eyes

how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?

i sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick

my face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

your surprised to hear a knock at your door. you open it to reveal your curly headed boyfriend. he had stopped responding to you completely a few days ago, so saying you were shocked to see him was an understatement. tired of being the only one trying to keep the relationship afloat, you let out your frustration.

“what are you doing here jack”

“hey i just wanted to check up on you, i have a few days off”

he brings you into a hug, but you stay stiff below him.

“whats wrong?” he asks, picking up on your mood.

“you ignore me for days and expect me to be excited to see you?”

“ive been busy you know that”

“jack we barely talk anymore. and when we do you blow me off in the first 5 minutes. hell you even told me to stop talking to you.” you explain, tears filling your eyes.

“look im sorry, the movies just been taking up all my time."

“and the movies more important than me right?” you say barely above a whisper.

“no but this is my job, my life”

“then maybe you should only worry about yourself” finally looking into his eyes.

“what are you trying to say”

“im saying we’re done jack. i cant keep putting myself through hell only for you not to give a shit”

“no c'mon we can make this work.”

“yeah thats what you said last time. please jack im going to ruin myself if this keeps happening.”

you both are a crying mess at this point.

not saying another word, jack leaves.

and the air is thick with loss and indecision

i know my pain is such an imposition

now, you're running down the hallway

and you know what they all say

"you don't know what you got until it's gone"

the next morning you find a letter left at your front door.

my love,

i'm sorry. for absolutely everything. i love you endlessly. when the stars realign, i’ll be there. but for now, be with someone who can give you everything i couldn't.

-jack

stop, you're losing me

i can't find a pulse

my heart won't start anymore... for you

'cause you're losing me

stop 'cause you're losing me

crumpling up the paper you begin to cry.

i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

and all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me

giving up so much of yourself, you were absolutely exhausted. the beautiful relationship you once had is now behind you.

you're losing me

stop, you're losing me

i can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore

giving up the fight, you were at rest.

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #scream vi #taylor swift

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madlumqx · 2 years

Text

just follow me. | n. kento

synopsis | nanami kento wasn’t much of a romanticist, but maybe giving in and just living in the moment wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

warnings | tooth-rotting fluff, if that counts as a warning.

a/n | aha domestic nanami thoughts anyone?

word count: 0.7k

“it’s so gloomy outside, nana.” you tell your fiance, watching the gentle patter of the rain hit the window sill.

nanami stayed silent, putting his book down by the coffee table to see your curled up figure by the loveseat next to the window of your small home. he couldn’t help but crack just a ghost of a smile to see you look so peaceful and small in his sweater that you swore walked its way to your closet. not that he’d mind you raiding his closet anyways.

turning to him, you muster up the cutest pleading expression you can make. “nana…” you slowly start out, eyes observing whatever reaction he could have. “can we go out and dance in the rain?” you ask him, slowly moving towards him and finding your spot by his feet, chin resting on his thighs as you look up at him.

the man had his reserves and you knew that well; kento wasn’t /that/ into romantic things aside from intimate one on one time like dinner dates, cuddle time, and the likes but with that expression paired with the pleading laced in your voice, even if offered a million dollars to decline, he wouldn’t have a heart to say no.

nanami leans forward just a tad bit so he could place a kiss to the top of your head while he caresses your hair lovingly. “is that what you want?” he asks gently, the excitement that suddenly illuminated your face made him unable to resist further. “let’s go then.”

standing up, you take nanami’s head and lead him over the small patio of your shared house. the both of you moved into this simple house just over a year ago, the same time nanami got down on one knee and asked you to be his forever.

the happy noises that left your lips as nanami watched you step out and into the rain overwhelmed his heart with so much adoration. for someone so stoic and reserved, you were the breath of fresh air he needed at the end of his work day, at the start of his every day. most of the time he wonders why you chose him out of all the people who wanted you but the moment he sees the smile you show him, all his worries would seem to fade away.

“nanaaa! come here already!” you call out for him, twirling around before extending both of your arms in his direction as you slowly get drenched in the rain.

chuckling lightly to himself, he steps out and beelines straight to your arms, wrapping his own around you and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you know, i’m not built to be a dancer, baby.” he admits, looking down at you with what seems to be a shameful expression.

you shake your head and pull away lightly so you can fix your arms around him, placing one of his hands on your waist and the other intertwined with yours. “follow my lead then, kento. just follow me.” you say softly, urging him to take a small step and just follow you.

to which he did, attentively following your actions as you pull him into a steady waltz, the same one he would see you do whenever you clean around the house or whenever he stays out late because of work; nanami would silently watch you dance around with the teddy bear he won you on your first date.

of course, this being his first real dance, mishaps were bound to happen. kento’s foot accidentally stepped on yours making you wince a bit and panic rise in his chest. “(y/n)? oh shit- i’m sorry. i know i shouldn’t have agre-” he started to mumble to himself upon realizing what he did, but you cut him off quite quickly. “kento, it’s okay. it happens, it isn’t your fault.”

your fiance’s face didn’t really show it but you read him like an open book. you knew he was still beating himself up about it, “nana, i promise, it’s okay.” you tell him, smiling up at him.

nanami lets out a small sigh, nodding slowly in agreement. it was your idea after all, and the last thing he wanted was to ruin the fun for you because of his worrying. “as long as you say it’s okay.” he confirms, steadying his grip on you.

“good. then may i have another chance at a dance, nana?”

#haha domestic nanami #cries in the corner because when will it be my turn #ruining my chances at love one anime boy at a time #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff

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ne0nic · 11 months

Text

Be The Reason

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Vash x f!Reader ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

MDNI

ִ ࣪𖤐 Word Count: 31.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 CW: NSFW, Sex, Self Harm, Guns, Knives, Blood & Gore, Angst, Hurt with Not Alot of Comfort, BountyHunter!Reader, Siblings Relationship with Wolfwood & Livio, Blind Loyalty to Millions Knives, Wolfwood Escaped the Church, Slight Trauma Bonding, Loosely Follows the Plot of Trigun Stampede, '98 Trigun Elements if You Squint

ִ ࣪𖤐 No use of Y/N, Never use of Y/N

ִ ࣪𖤐 Just a Snippet, Too Long For Tumblr

"This is an order from Knives."

"Of course it is," you drone, looking over the wanted poster. After years of being Knives' loyal soldier, he's finally tasked you with playing in the big leagues—the Humanoid Typhoon. It's the most sought-after bounty on the board, and now it's your sole target. You haven't failed Knives yet, and you sure as hell won't start now.

Finding this guy, Vash the Stampede, an awful code name by any standard, is already next to impossible. Bounty hunters have thrown heaps of cash for even a hint of his whereabouts for years, with nothing to show for it. You're not interested in the lies or wasting imaginary money. But maybe, just maybe, you know better than them.

The next time a call comes in, and some eager kid rushes into the bar spouting nonsense about spotting the Humanoid Typhoon, the hunters are instantly in a frenzy. They swarm to their trucks and speed off into the desert without a second thought. However, you don't follow their lead. In fact, you turn in the opposite direction.

He is aware that he's been hunted for a long time, and he's probably accustomed to diverting the crowd away from wherever he's hiding. Plus, he likely has a few friends willing to provide cover for him. You'll need to outsmart them all to catch your elusive prey.

Honestly, it takes a bit longer than you'd hoped, but the payoff is worth it. In a small bar, nestled in an unassuming town, the man with the biggest bounty No Man's Land has ever seen sits, savoring his drinks like there's no tomorrow. You observe from the shadows atop the stairs as he shares hearty laughs and engages in charming banter with the locals. His smile is wide and inviting, just like the one on his wanted poster. It's a bit strange coming from a guy accused of the things he has done, but, to your disappointment, it's evident that everyone here is armed and more than willing to defend him from you.

So, patience becomes your ally. It's frustrating, but he's within your grasp, practically in the palm of your hand. All that remains is to seize the moment. You quietly step back, plotting your move.

Down below, Wolfwood's gaze widens as he catches a glimpse of a shadow retreating from the railing above. There's something eerily familiar about it, but it can't be...

"Hey, everything okay?" Vash inquires, noticing the alarmed look on his face. Wolfwood lowers his eyes and takes a drag from his cigarette before flicking the ashes away.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responds nonchalantly, though it hardly convinces Vash.

The two eventually depart from the bar late into the night, leaving behind patrons who have fallen asleep where they sat. Eager not to end up like them, they make their way toward tonight's lodgings.

And, naturally, you are there too, shrouded in darkness, silently tailing the pair. Vash sways slightly from side to side, a bit too entranced by the alcohol.

Wolfwood abruptly stops, causing you to retreat into the shadows. "What's up?" Vash asks, puzzled, as he turns toward his companion.

"I forgot something. You go on ahead," Wolfwood says abruptly, before disappearing down an alley without further explanation.

"Alright," Vash mumbles and continues down the street.

In just a matter of minutes, you have Vash pinned against an alley wall. With one hand securing the back of his neck and keeping him at bay, you deftly fasten the cuffs around his wrists. "Hey, can we maybe start with introductions? What's your name?"

"Make a sound, and I'll dislocate your arm," you warn, emphasizing your point by gripping where skin and metal meet. Vash winces.

"Okay! Okay! I get it," he says quickly. You slide his gun from its holster.

"Hey, hey, hey! That's important! Could you not touch that?" he pleads.

"Shut up," you snap, stowing the gun in the back of your pants.

The sudden hum and activation of a weapon cause you to freeze. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Wolfwood, his grip firm on the Punisher, but his eyes betraying hesitation. This isn't exactly the time or place you'd planned for a reunion, but you knew he wouldn't be far. Your training has made you acutely aware of each other's presence.

"You're alive," he murmurs, astonishment in his voice. "And you're working for Knives?"

"Stay out of my way," you instruct firmly.

"You don't have to work for those bastards! You can—" Your knife pierces through his stomach. Wolfwood meets your gaze with wide eyes. Evidently, your speed has caught him off guard. It's almost amusing to see him realize you're not the naive kid you once were.

"I can do what?" you ask, drawing your knife back, making him lurch before collapsing onto the sand. "Run away like you did? I chose this, Nico," you remind him in a hushed yet resolute voice.

"Wolfwood?!" Vash cries out in alarm.

"Move it," you snap, sheathing your dagger. You grab Vash by the coat and forcibly drag him away.

"Wait! Wait! He'll die!" Vash protests desperately.

"If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead," you say coldly, showing no remorse for your actions. At the edge of town, you throw Vash into your car. He flops onto the seat and looks up at you with wide, bewildered eyes.

"How could you do that to him?" Vash asks, his voice filled with disbelief and concern.

Without acknowledging him, you slam the car door shut and speed away from the small town, venturing out into the vast desert ahead.

"Are you… like Wolfwood?" Vash continues, trying to make sense of your actions. You remain silent, your elbow resting on the door as you lean your head against your fist.

"Just be quiet," you mutter.

"You care about him, don't you?" Vash persists, undeterred by your lack of response. His curiosity seems insatiable. Frustrated, you lean forward and grab a half-eaten donut from a pastry bag on the dashboard. Without a word, you stuff it into Vash's mouth. He's momentarily surprised but can't resist the sweetness. A brief moment of silence follows until he finishes his bite.

"Those marks on your wrist, what are they from?" Vash inquires, determined to extract some information from you. His persistence is starting to get on your nerves.

"Enough," You snap, finally putting a stop to Vash's incessant questions. He closes his mouth, clearly surprised by your outburst. "He warned me you were talkative," you mutter, annoyed.

"Just tell me one thing. Why do you work for him?" Vash presses, determination in his eyes.

You shift your jaw, contemplating whether to answer. After a moment, you decide to offer a glimpse of the truth. "For the thrill and the cash."

"And you're from the orphanage?" Vash inquires further.

"Hell no. I was… a volunteer," you admit with a bitter tone.

"What?" Vash's heart aches as he hears your confession. After Wolfwood explained everything he went through, Vash can't fathom someone willingly subjecting themselves to such a fate.

"I became what I wanted to be, and now I'm Knives' favorite," you continue, bitterness still present in your voice. "Nico hated me when we were younger. He lost his mind when he realized I let it happen. But none of that matters. Once I drop you off to Knives, I'll be on my way with my money." Vash's gaze returns to your wrist with a new understanding.

"So then those marks—" he starts to ask, his voice filled with concern.

"I wasn't always Knives' favorite," you mumble, and Vash looks at your face, a deep sense of guilt washing over him. His brother hurt you, left scars on your body. If he hadn't… If they hadn't…

The weight of your words sinks in, leaving a heavy silence in the car as the desert stretches endlessly around you.

The car jerks violently, throwing both you and Vash around as it spins through the sand. You desperately try to keep it steady, but the sandy terrain has other plans. Finally, the car comes to a halt, thankfully without tipping over. As it settles, you shoot an annoyed glare at Vash, who has ended up leaning on you during the chaos. You push him off, not in the mood for any of this. "Get the hell off me."

"Sorry! Sorry!" Vash stammers, scrambling away from you. You quickly scan the rearview mirror as the dust begins to settle, revealing a figure standing on the dune behind you, holding a large cross-shaped weapon.

"Bastard!" You hiss, flinging open the car door, ready to confront the threat.

"Wait! Don't just leave me-" Vash pleads, but you slam the door shut behind you. Your hand darts to the back of your pants, retrieving the gun as you zero in on the figure. With a quick, practiced motion, you cock the hammer back and pull the trigger.

Click.

Is this a joke?! Why the hell was this idiot carrying an unloaded gun? Your irritation is interrupted by searing pain that shoots through your arm, forcing you to drop the useless weapon. You groan in agony as your arm falls to your side.

Shit!

Pressing your back against the car, you fight through the pain, knowing Wolfwood is closing in. You might have to kill him, even though Knives hadn't ordered it. But right now, you need to come to terms with the fact—

"Hey! Are you alright?! Let me see!" Vash suddenly pops up in front of you, the handcuffs only around his flesh wrist clinking. He reaches out toward your injured arm.

"What the hell? Get away from me!" you snap, making Vash flinch back.

"I just wanna help," Vash insists.

"Don't worry. She'll heal in a moment," Wolfwood's voice cuts through the tension as he stands at the tail end of the car.

"Bastard! I'll damn well kill you!" You screech, as you attempt to get to your feet, the pain ebbing as your arm begins to heal. Steam rises from your skin, and you can't help but wince in agony.

Vash takes a step forward, a desperate desire to help you coursing through him, but Wolfwood's firm hand presses against his chest, holding him back. Vash glances at him, and Wolfwood doesn't meet his gaze. After your pain subsides and you regain your composure, Wolfwood scrutinizes you from head to toe.

"Hurts like a bitch, don't it?" he asks in a gruff tone.

"Fuck you," you spit out venomously, leaning against the car to regain your footing. "Why the hell are you protecting him?! He's worth billions!"

"Why the hell are you working for Knives?! After what he did to us?!" Wolfwood fires back, frustration evident in his voice.

"Us?" You repeat with a scoff, fully standing from the car, which prompts Wolfwood to position himself closer to Vash. You narrow your gaze at his actions. "There is no us. You made that very clear."

"Just because I didn't agree with your insanity doesn't mean I don't-"

"Care about me?!" You finish his sentence, your tone dripping with cynicism. "That's cheap coming from you."

"I'm trying to help you, dammit!" Wolfwood yells, exasperation etched across his face.

"I don't need your help," you retort, pulling your dagger out of its sheath. "I need you to stay down."

"If that's the way you wanna settle this," Wolfwood concedes, dropping the Punisher weapon into the sand.

"You're not actually gonna fight her, are you?!" Vash pleads.

"It's what she wants," Wolfwood mutters, tossing his cigarette to the ground and smothering it.

"Come on, you two grew up together! This is crazy! We can just talk things out!" Vash insists, hoping to find a peaceful resolution.

"Stay out of this, Needle Noggin," Wolfwood sighs, cracking his knuckles. "This has been a long time coming."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Stop! Hold it! Hold on!" Vash steps between both of you, trying to be the voice of reason. He turns to Wolfwood. "I won't let you-" But before he can finish his plea, your foot hooks around his waist, and you throw him aside. Vash tumbles into the sand, watching the ensuing brawl unfold.

You and Wolfwood go at it fiercely, fists swinging, and landing hard smacks on each other. He dodges your blade with ease, and you deftly evade his counterattacks. It seems as if you're evenly matched for a while. Blood and bruises start to decorate both of your faces, but your healing powers kick in, burning with pain that only fuels your rage.

With a swift sweep of your leg, you send Wolfwood crashing into the sand. You leap onto him, clutching the knife tightly, ready to deliver a finishing blow. But just as you raise the knife over your head, pain shoots through your fingers as the blade snaps in half and lands in the sand. You whirl your head toward Vash, his gun still smoking. It's a move of desperation, and Vash has never been more thankful for the spare bullet he found.

Wolfwood seizes the opportunity to switch positions, pinning you to the sand. You struggle against him, demanding he get off. He holds you in place until you stop resisting. Lying back, you mutter, "Just kill me."

"I could never do that."

"I'm dead anyway," you mutter, revealing the harsh reality that Knives considers you expendable. It's a grim truth that hangs heavy in the air.

"Everything you've done has been to survive. And I was the asshole who doubted you. I was wrong for that. But right now you can trust that I won't let anything happen to you."

"Idiot. As if you're any match for him," you sigh. Slowly, Wolfwood gets to his feet and helps you stand. But before he can react, your foot lands a solid kick to his shin, causing him to keel over in pain.

"That's for shooting at me!" you declare.

"God! You devil woman!" Wolfwood curses, nursing his throbbing leg.

"Get over it," you sigh. Your gaze locks onto Vash, making the blonde stiffen. With brisk steps, you approach him. He holds up his hands, not wanting any smoke. You grip the pad of the handcuffs, and it unlatches from his wrist. He looks down in surprise.

"You're… Letting me go?"

"I lost. It's just how things are between us," you admit, already hating the unspoken agreement that hangs in the air. Wolfwood groans behind you as the elixir does its job, gradually mending his wounds.

"But if you go back empty-handed-"

"It doesn't matter," you say firmly. Vash reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It does matter! You said it yourself. Stay with us."

You pause, your emotions conflicting within you. Finally, you admit, "I don't really have much choice anyway."

Vash's eyes flutter open, adjusting to the daylight that's already warming up the car. He stretches and yawns, glancing around the vehicle. "Good morning," he greets, still somewhat groggy. His eyes dart to the front where you're driving in silence. "Where's Wolfwood?" he asks, puzzled. You remain silent, and Vash scratches his face, gradually realizing there are cuffs restraining him. His eyes widen as he sees his revolver resting on the dashboard. He lets out an exasperated groan and rubs his face. "Don't tell me you tricked us."

"Nico, always had this thing about family. We all were put through the same shit so we're family. I never understood it but he was dumb enough to think I did."

"You're quite persistent, I'll give you that," Vash remarks with a sheepish smile. You glance at him briefly in the rearview mirror.

"You're nothing like him, you know?" you comment. "You might look just like him, but I could never imagine that man smiling before I met you." Vash falls silent.

"He wasn't always like that," he says quietly.

"You would know," you reply.

"So, where are you taking me?"

"July," you say. "I haven't had the chance to update my associates yet, though."

"Is it wise to tell me that?" Vash questions.

"I figured if you were planning an escape, you'd prefer to do it now," you say. "I'd rather keel over in the sun than make a false call to Knives."

"So you've already made time for me to escape? You're quite punctual."

"I have about three weeks left to play cat and mouse with you before Knives comes looking for me."

"And Wolfwood?"

"Idiot got out to take a leak and I just drove away," you smirk. "You slept right through all his cursing."

"He didn't shoot at the car again?" Vash asks. You gesture with your thumb towards the back, and Vash turns to see the signature cross-shaped weapon in the trunk. He lets out a sigh, dropping his head.

"One last thing," you add. "I know you removed your prosthetic hand to escape the cuff before. So if you look down, you'll see a glove over your hand." Vash examines the glove. "I've wedged it into your wrist and the cuff. If you try to remove it, it will tear," you explain.

"What's to stop me from-" Vash begins.

"That glove is the last memento I have of my grandmother. Please handle it with care," you interject.

"Oh, come on!" Vash groans, covering his face with his hands. You chuckle softly from the front seat.

"Hungry?" you ask, offering him a bag. Vash accepts it, still pouting.

"Thank you," he says.

Another silent hour of driving is slowly driving Vash mad. The desire to be doing something, anything useful, gnaws at him, making his skin itch.

"Need to stop for gas," you finally break the silence, and Vash perks up as he spots a small gas station in the distance, situated in the middle of nowhere.

"Could you get me a drink?" Vash asks, flashing a sweet smile.

"You're the one who's being kidnapped, and you're asking for a drink?" you remark, raising an eyebrow.

"Pretty please?" Vash continues to smile. You pull up to the gas pump and open your car door, muttering to yourself.

"He's lucky he's so damn cute; otherwise, I might have left him tied to the back of the car hours ago," you grumble, slamming the car door. Vash watches as you open his door and grab his arm, causing him to stumble out of the car.

"Ye-eh!" he utters, and you press your finger to the cuff, unlocking the one around his flesh wrist. After closing the door, you loop the cuff around the door handle and latch it again.

"There you go. Some outdoor time, puppy," you say, patting his shoulder, before turning away.

"Woof," Vash mumbles sarcastically. From the other side, you begin filling up the car with gas and then proceed into the store.

"Welcome!" The shop clerk greets you with a smile.

Vash tugs at the handcuffs gently, their clattering noise echoing against the car. He contemplates the idea of breaking them; they couldn't be that strong, right? Surely he's stronger. With a determined stance, Vash focuses on the metal restraints, mentally preparing them for their imminent demise. Without further hesitation, he yanks on the handcuffs. Instead of breaking, as he had hoped, the car door suddenly swings open, smacking him in the face. Vash stumbles backward, clutching his nose, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Angrily huffing away his frustration, he kicks the car door in revenge, not considering it might pull him too when it closes. After wiping his face, he looks around, relieved that no one witnessed his mishap.

However, you did see it. Attracted by the noise, you glanced over just in time to catch the hilarious moment. You wish you had recorded it; it would be perfect to show Wolfwood the next time you see him.

But then reality hits you. You won't be seeing him again. You grab a bag of chips from the shelf and continue your shopping, your clouded thoughts suddenly clearing.

Meanwhile, Vash rubs his nose one last time before glancing back at the handcuffs. His heart sinks as he realizes the glove has torn a bit. Oh no! He didn't mean for this to happen! What's he going to say to you? You'll be disappointed, and that would break his heart. Your grandmother...

Wait a minute.

You don't even have a grandmother.

Exiting the store with a plastic bag in hand, you pull the gas pump out of the car. Stepping to the other side, you peer into the bag.

"I got you some juice and chips. I hope that's..." you begin to say but trail off when you see the handcuffs - handcuffs with no hands to cuff. You mutter a curse. Just when you were trying to do something nice for him. That smooth-talking, cute smiling motherfucker.

Unfortunately for him, the unforgiving desert doesn't conceal his tracks, and they lead in the direction he ran. You jump into the car, knowing you'll catch up with him.

Sure enough, a dune over, you spot Vash sprinting for his life with Wolfwood's cross on his back. You pull up in front of him and lower the window.

"Really? The fuck were you gonna go? There's miles of nothing out here," you say.

"Hey! You started it by lying to me! You don't have a grandma!"

"I have a grandma!" You defend. "I just… Never knew her." You sigh, rubbing the tiredness from your face. "Just get back in the car. Try to escape in a more populated area next time."

Vash reluctantly concedes, realizing he doesn't have much of a choice. He opens the car's back door and tosses the cross inside. As he does, the distant sound of revving engines fills the air, drawing his attention. He listens closely, making out the sound of bandits whooping and laughing like maniacs.

"Bandits. They're attacking the store," he tells you, concern in his voice. You shake your head, leaning your arms on the window.

"So?" you reply indifferently.

"So?! We have to help them!" Vash exclaims, frustrated by your apparent lack of empathy.

"For what? Bandits take everything out here. Everyone knows the risks," you reply with a shrug. Frustrated and unwilling to wait for more of your pessimistic reasoning, Vash takes off back in the direction he came from.

"Vash! Really?!" you call after him. You sit back in the car, realizing that even if he succeeds, he'll still have nowhere else to go. You close your eyes and depress the brake pedal, shifting into drive. "God dammit."

By the time you arrive, Vash is already in the midst of the confrontation, swinging left and right, easily incapacitating the bandits. Part of you considers just watching him from the hood of the car; you expected him to have experience, but he's putting on quite the show.

From what you've seen, Vash the Stampede seems like an imbecile. But this Vash, the one with fire in his eyes, has you questioning which side of him is the real one. It also leaves you wondering why you're so mesmerized by the stark contrast between the two.

One of the bandits attempts to sneak up on Vash, wielding a pipe. With a swift flick of your wrist, your dagger pierces the bandit's shoulder. Vash turns at the screams, locking eyes with you after the bandit falls.

"You could help!" he calls out.

"Nope," you shake your head, your elbows resting on the hood. "Looks like you've got it handled." With that, Vash returns his attention to the ongoing fight.

A hand swiftly snatches your wrist, yanking it behind your back, and you hear the unmistakable click of cuffs sealing around your wrists. Startled, you snap your head toward Wolfwood.

"What the hell?! How did you get here?!" you ask, your struggles to break free intensifying. Wolfwood maneuvers you toward the back of the car, exchanging his cross for your presence, and forcefully slams the door shut.

"Nico!" you urgently press your finger to the pad, but the cuffs remain locked. "You overrode my fingerprint?! Nico! Get back here, you bastard!"

Oh, he's definitely hearing your muffled screams, and it's taking everything in him not to burst into laughter as he joins Vash. With the duo reunited the bandits flee the scene in a hurry, disappearing into the horizon.

The pair returns to the car, chatting merrily amongst themselves. "She's right here," Wolfwood announces, opening the car door and pulling you out, but you resist, tugging away from him. Vash's eyes widen in surprise.

"So, she's our captive now?" Vash inquires.

"Great, isn't it? Serves her right," Wolfwood grins.

"Prick."

"Aw, how cute. Like a pomeranian," Wolfwood teases, only for you to retaliate by kicking him in the shin. "Ow!" Wolfwood crumples.

You slink closer to Vash, who tenses up as you look up at him with big, sweet eyes. "Vashie. I've been good to you, haven't I? Please don't let Nico treat me like this. I promise to be good. Please?" you flutter your lashes.

Vash's cheeks burn crimson. He huffs, runs a hand through his hair, groans, and eventually sighs. "Let her go."

"What?!" both you and Wolfwood exclaim in unison.

You can't believe that worked.

He can't believe that worked!

"Are you insane?! She literally kidnapped you! Twice!" Wolfwood protests. "Not to mention stabbed me! Are you seriously—"

"Just unlock it," Vash insists. Wolfwood grumbles but reaches out to unlatch the cuff from one of your wrists. You swiftly pull your hands to the front, sticking your tongue out at Wolfwood.

Click.

Both of you turn, and Vash secures the other cuff to his own wrist. In silence, you examine where you and Vash are now attached.

"Oh, hell no," you declare immediately.

"The hell?"

"Look, she won't go anywhere without me, and now she won't have to. Whether I'm her captive or she's mine doesn't matter because we'll be attached," Vash says, lifting up your wrists and dangling the cuffs for emphasis.

"Absolutely not," you insist.

"What? Needle noggin, she could kill you."

"She hasn't tried to yet. I trust her," Vash responds, looking at you with a smile that makes your heart race.

Gross.

"Nico, get me the hell out of this," you demand.

"No."

"What do you mean no? You just said you were against it."

"I am against it. But it's also the only way to keep an eye on you."

"This isn't—"

"Excuse me," the store owner's voice draws all three of you to attention, and you turn toward them. They offer a warm smile. "Thank you so much for your help. I'd like to repay you with something to eat, but those bandits made off with most of my inventory."

"Oh, it's not a problem at all. But are you alright?" Vash inquires with genuine concern, making you roll your eyes.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you. However, it is getting late, and the best thing I can offer you is the mattresses in the back. They may not be much, but I think they'll suffice."

"Really? That's incredibly kind of you! Thank you!" Vash beams with gratitude.

Without consulting your opinion, Vash guides, or rather drags, you through the store to a shabby back room. To your dismay, there are only two beds. That means... no. You refuse to entertain that idea.

"Get me the hell—"

"Just deal with it," Wolfwood interjects with a sigh, already claiming the bed on the right.

"You must be tired," Vash says, leading you to the other bed. Reluctantly, you follow.

"Absolutely not. You're sleeping on the floor," you declare, plopping down onto the mattress.

"What?! That's not—"

"Besides, this damn thing's too small for two people anyway. Here," you toss the pillow and blanket onto the floor. "Goodnight," you announce before reclining.

"But won't you get cold?" Vash worries, lifting the blanket back to you.

"I don't get cold," you mutter, closing your eyes. Vash concedes, not wanting to disturb you any further.

It feels as though you're enveloped in a cozy cocoon, warm, soft, and filled with a pleasant scent. You could easily get lost in this comfort.

Slowly, you open your eyes, only to find yourself shrouded in darkness. Rolling over, you notice a sliver of moonlight seeping through a small window, illuminating Wolfwood's back. As if to cruelly remind you of your situation, Vash adds a loud snore to the mix. Dammit.

You shift your attention to the cloud-like sensation you're enveloped in—red. Bright red. Project seeds? It's Vash's damn coat. That sneaky bastard! You fling it away to a corner of the bed and sit up.

"Nico," you whisper, trying not to disturb Vash's sleep. He doesn't budge. "Nico!"

"Hm?" Wolfwood mumbles, slowly rousing.

"I need to pee. Come on, let me out of this thing."

"No. Just wait until morning."

"Nico!"

Wolfwood sighs and rises slowly from the bed, trudging across the room to press his finger to the pad, releasing you.

"Be fast."

"I plan on it," you reply, slipping through the door.

The store is eerily silent, but you hurry through it, your one goal to reach the car. The sight of your car has never filled you with such elation before – freedom at last. The door squeaks as you open it and hop inside.

Finally, it's time to get the hell out of here. Hopefully the two will let their guards down in another week. You shove the key into the ignition.

"I trust her."

Vash's words make you pause. Why the fuck are you hesitating?

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Your forehead collides with the steering wheel. What's wrong with you?

The worn spring mattress creaks as you sit back down. You shift your jaw and pull the cuff back over your wrist, latching it in frustration. Grabbing the discarded coat from the corner, you lie down again. With your eyes scrunched closed, you curse yourself.

Vash smiles.

It blinks blue tonight.

The sweltering heat jolts you awake, and you curse under your breath. Is it morning already? You would've welcomed a few more moments of blissful slumber. You're so comfortable that you could almost forget the world exists.

Your tired eyes flutter open, only to be met with darkness, but it's not the familiar darkness of night. It's the darkness of fabric. You lift your gaze, taking a few moments to comprehend what you're seeing.

Vash.

He's right there in the bed next to you, holding you close as if you might vanish. His gentle yet slightly calloused fingers entwined with yours, bridging the gap between you. The cuff still binds you together, and it's his warmth that's now surrounding you, ensuring you won't succumb to the cold. He holds you with a tenderness that suggests you mean something precious to him.

But something within you rebels.

No.

You shove.

"Whu-ah-uhf!" Vash collides with the floor. "Ouch," he groans. He sits up rubbing the back of his head. "What was that for?!"

"I should be asking you that! Why the hell were you-"

"Keep it down, idiots. It's still morning," Wolfwood says entering the room. He tosses some food onto the bed at your feet.

"Nico! You'd better let me out of this fucking thing right now!" You snap.

"You know that's not gonna happen." Nico sits on the other bed tearing open a new carton of cigarettes.

"Are you kidding me?!" You snap. Something waves around in the corner of your vision. You look down to the donut Vash offers to you with a smile.

"Please, accept this token of my sorryness," he says. With a sigh you take the donut.

Driving with just one hand isn't the smartest move out here in the dunes, but the idea of letting Wolfwood take the wheel? That's a disaster waiting to happen, and you're not about to find out how that might unfold. Plus, the thought of being stuck in the backseat with Vash doesn't sound much better. You shudder at the notion that he might talk your ear off, and the idea of dislocating your wrist to escape the conversation isn't appealing either.

However, as you sit in the front seat, you notice that Vash is remarkably quiet. Wolfwood succumbed to sleep not long after hopping into the car, sparing you from his commentary on Vash's silence. But you won't complain about it either.

When you steal a sideways glance at Vash, you catch a glimpse of a subtle smile on his face, which is somewhat reassuring. Not that you'd admit to caring one way or the other.

The two of them allowed you to take the wheel, as long as you steer clear of July. Instead, you're headed toward some nameless town. Right now, your destination doesn't matter much; all you care about is finding a place with a cold beer waiting for you.

The radio drones on with some evangelical station, filling the silence between the sound of sand against the car. It's becoming tiresome, and you yearn for some music, anything to break the monotony. You ponder the idea of getting some tapes or something. Hell, even Vash's chatter would be an improvement over this drivel. Finally, you decide to take action, reaching out to switch off the radio. Vash's attention finally shifts to you.

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm just peachy," you reply, your tone heavy with sarcasm. Surprisingly, Vash chuckles.

"Trust me this town is really great. All the people are nice and the food's amazing too. But if you need a break to stretch your legs, I'm all for it."

"No. I'm fine."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"Why did you volunteer?"

Damn. You curse yourself for not anticipating his curiosity. After all, he's been alongside Wolfwood this entire time; there's probably nothing he doesn't know.

"It's just… it's what Knives wanted from me."

"Nai forced you?"

"No. Knives saved me and I promised him I'd do anything in return. He waited until the treatment was perfected, and I became his soldier. I… Would do anything for him."

"Does Wolfwood know this?"

"He suspects, but doesn't know the whole story," you say. "I was… Born into a trafficking ring. The day I was meant to go up for auction Knives appeared. He slaughtered them all and saved me. Conrad employed the best fighters to train me and after the treatment was complete, I was perfect. I've taken on every job Knives has ever asked me to."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"Save it," you interrupt, cutting him off. "I'm not hung up on it or anything. Besides, I don't blame Nico either. We were all just kids anyway." Wolfwood's gaze drifts out of the window and no one mentions the absence of his snoring.

As the sky begins to paint itself with shades of orange and pink, you roll up to the town. Vash had succumbed to sleep a while ago, but even without his watchful eye, you continued driving to their destination. Like an idiot.

For a bit of gentle revenge, you tap the brakes a little too firmly as you park. Both men jolt forward and groan. "Oh, good, you're up."

"Devil woman," Wolfwood grumbles from the backseat.

"I'm starving," you mutter.

"Come on. I know the perfect place," Vash chimes in with a smile. The three of you step into the lively town, most of its residents hanging out outdoors despite the late hour. Vash moves through the town with an air of contentment, which strikes you as odd, given his bounty.

Unfortunately, the warmth isn't reciprocated by the townspeople. They glance over at you three but quickly sour. Vash remains oblivious, thankfully, but Wolfwood, always the observer, takes a moment to grasp that they're not looking at Vash.

"Are you famous around here?" he inquires of you.

"Something like that," you mutter. Vash raises his head and scans the crowd.

"You've been here before?" Vash asks.

"Once," you reply.

"We don't have to stay—"

"It's fine. They'll still take my money."

"Okay," Vash agrees. "It's just up here."

Vash leads you both around the corner, and you catch sight of the bar. Regrettably, the bounty hunters lurking outside also lock eyes with you.

"Shit," you mutter, grabbing Vash and Wolfwood, pulling them forcefully out of sight.

"Isn't that Millions Knives' favorite little hunter?!" one of the hunters calls out.

"You need to get this off me now," you demand, your voice trembling with urgency.

"What? What's the matter with-" Vash begins, but you cut him off.

"Those are bounty hunters who have spent their lives looking for Vash. They would eat him alive. Unlock it!" Vash turns stiff at your sudden grotesque choice of words, and with a harsh gulp nervously pulls at his collar.

"What's your plan?" Wolfwood asks, his eyes narrowing.

"They won't just let me go. Please, trust me!" you plead desperately. "And get Vash out of here!"

Wolfwood clenches his jaw, processing the danger as the voices that sing-song your name draw nearer. Nico sighs, finally unlocking the cuff.

"I'll find you," you promise, then swiftly retreat back around the corner, leaving the two men.

"Be careful," Vash mutters though he knows you won't hear him.

"Thought that was you!" one of them barks, swaggering toward you with a lopsided grin. "Who're your buddies?"

"Just some damn newbies that won't take a hint," you retort with a cocky edge. "I had to show 'em who's boss and sent 'em running." The bounty hunter laughs, and two more rough-looking figures join the group.

"You're right on time. The real party's just gettin' started," another one says, tossing a meaty arm over your shoulder.

"Really? Is DedRod here?" you inquire, making them erupt in raucous laughter.

"God rest his damn soul," another hunter chimes in.

Inside the bar, your popularity takes a nosedive. They all recognize you and know who you work for, and more importantly, they're well aware of the task he's given you. Their expectations are sky-high, and you realize you'll have to spin a tale of failure, even if that means it gets back to Knives.

"She said she'd nab the Typhoon! Look at her now—still empty-handed!" an old-timer, way past his prime for this gig, spits venomously onto the table.

"Yeah, yeah," you wave him off, the bar erupting into a rowdy chorus. "I've been at this, what, less than a week? How long have you been chasing that ghost? Oh right, a God damn decade! And you're still only chasing your tails." You slam back the rest of your pint, punctuating your point.

Vash and Wolfwood sit at a modest pop-up stand, their meal consumed in silence. Vash stares down into his bowl, the contents as cloudy as he feels. His fingers tighten around the utensil. "Should we have really left her back there?" Vash mumbles, his concern palpable.

"They're bounty hunters. She made the right call," Wolfwood replies firmly. "She knows them. She knows what she's doing."

"I just can't trust it," Vash adds, his worry unabated.

"It? You mean them?" Wolfwood probes.

"You saw the way they acted!" Vash retorts.

"Let it go. She'll be alright," Wolfwood reassures, his confidence unwavering.

Hours later, you stagger through the town, your senses dulled by alcohol. You managed to slip away when the others succumbed to sleep, sprawled wherever they fell. You may not know exactly where you're headed, but you do know you can't stay there. It's best to make your way back to your car; at least you can pass out there.

A hulking figure crosses your path, and a grating voice shatters your blurry thoughts, "What do we have here?" With half-lidded eyes, you meet the man's gaze.

"Move," you slur, attempting to assert yourself.

"Seems like you've had a bit too much to drink. Why don't you come with me? I'll take care of you," the man leers.

"Fuck off. I won't tell you again," you manage to say, trying to sidestep him, but he seizes your arm, yanking you back.

"Don't be like that. I'm just trying to help you," he persists, pulling you closer and grabbing your waist. "Promise I'll be gentle."

"Get the hell away!" You attempt to push him off, but you're drained of strength.

Help... Help... Va-

"Let her go," a chilling voice pierces the night, freezing your heart. "Now!" That signature revolver is now inches from the man's head.

"There's no need for that. You see, my girlfriend here just gets a little feisty after a few drinks," the man smirks.

"I said," Vash cocks back the hammer. "Let her go." Seeing his inevitable defeat, the man releases you with his hands raised. Vash takes your elbow with gentle fingers, his entire demeanor shifting when he looks at you. His blue eyes convey care and concern.

"You okay?" he asks, his presence feeling like a lifeline.

"You're here," you murmur in awe. In this moment, Vash appears as an angel in your eyes. He smiles before turning his attention back to the man, his sweet face now wearing a scowl you've never seen before, almost making him look like—

"Beat it," Vash orders, and the man grumbles as he walks away. Vash lowers his gun and holsters it, returning his full focus to you. "Are you sure you're okay?"

You step closer, burying your face in his chest, fingers gripping his shirt. His scent envelops you, his warmth seeping through your skin. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulses through you, comforting you. "Vash."

"What is it?" His hands find your shoulders.

"Vash," you repeat, his name a mantra on your lips. He's here. He came.

Vash tenderly cups your cheeks, tilting your face up. "I'm right here."

"Promise me you won't leave," you implore, your eyes revealing what you can't put into words. It's the fear of losing something you've grown to care for, a fear he knows all too well.

Vash blinks in surprise, taken aback by your request. But nonetheless, he won't refuse. "I promise," Vash assures, as his hand cradles the back of your head, holding you close. "I'll never leave your side."

Wolfwood rounds the corner, spotting the unmistakable red coat. Vash walks down the deserted street, you safely in his embrace. Wolfwood joins you both halfway.

"What the hell happened? I turned around, and you were gone," Wolfwood says, glancing down at you, fast asleep.

"I just... heard her."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Just needs some rest."

"I hear that," Wolfwood says.

Still blue tonight.

THIS IS NOT THE END!

Click the AO3 link to read the full fic!

Thank you ❤

#vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fanfiction

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