#ones a bear belonging to an idiot

[dollfacefantasy]

I love your writing sm, it's just what I needed μ_μ Do you think you could write Leon being the father of reader's idiot ex who just broke up with her? Leon just wants to console her and the reader only thinks about all the sexual tension they had for a while and now they have nothing to stop them.

(sorry if my english is bad, luv ya)

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your ex boyfriend's dad comforts you after you and his son breakup

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, age gap

word count: 5.3k

a/n: dilf leon you KNOW i love that. thank you so much for your request. i hope you like it! i used death island for the picture, but imagine leon in his late forties for this. as always, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus @luniaxi

Leon lets out a deep sigh as he yanks the keys out of the ignition and his car's engine fizzles out. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks down at his lap. He takes another deep breath and shakes his head before looking out the window at your apartment building. He’d been told you lived on the fourth floor.

He opens the door next, stepping out into the cold air. The sun was nowhere to be found today, the sky completely masked by a collection of gray clouds. He walks around to the back of the car and pops the trunk open to collect the box of memories he’d been tasked with returning to you.

He didn’t understand how he’d ended up with this job. Despite his numerous daydreams he wished he could forget, you weren’t ever his girlfriend. He hadn’t been the one you’d come over to visit. You didn’t fall asleep in his room or wear his t-shirts or kiss him goodbye when you left. He hadn’t been the one to cheat on you or make you cry for days on end either. No. That’d been his son.

So why was he the one going out of his way to bring you this stuff? That was what he couldn’t comprehend.

Well that’s not exactly true. He comprehended just fine. His son planned on throwing out your stuff that’d been left at his house, remnants of your eight months together. Leon didn’t want that. He’d told his son to pack it up and take it to you like a man should. He had been the one in the wrong after all. But no, his son argued up and down, coming up with every reason under the sun as to why it was better to just throw it away. So Leon just gave up. He knew if he commanded it, his son would just shove your shit in a box and drive down the street to throw it from the window of his moving car. The car Leon paid for.

Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for you. A chamber of his heart that was coated in guilt, surrounded by denial, but internally the sweetest part of him. The one piece of his soul that saw some light in the world that had gone dark for him years ago. So just for you, Leon drove the thirty minutes to your complex to deliver your belongings.

He picks up the cardboard box and tucks it under his arm. The trunk slams with a loud thump, and he’s thinking of what he’s even going to say to you when you open the door. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know if you were home. He had a pretty good idea of your schedule from the time you’d spend on the phone with his son or at his house, but he didn’t even check to be sure.

In the midst of mentally scolding himself, the bottom of the box bursts, and your items go tumbling out onto the pavement. He tries to catch them, but his fingers just miss. Another sigh seeps from his lungs as he crouches down to scoop them up. He picks up a pink hoodie that’d been crumpled up at the foot of his son’s bed, a stuffed bear he saw him pull from the crack between the mattress and the wall, and a bracelet that laid abandoned on the nightstand. He collects other little pieces of you scattered across the damp concrete before managing to situate them in his arms and resume walking to you.

He tosses the broken box into the nearby trash before entering the building and going down the hall and to the elevator. From what he saw, the place was alright. You didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved he wouldn’t be left worrying about your safety after he left.

The elevator glides up to your floor in total silence with him being the only one in the small space. The little ding that marks his arrival releases a burst of anxiety within him. He felt so dumb. He was nervous like he was your and his son’s age. He pushes those feelings away and gets himself to be normal, to act his age. All he had to do was knock, shove this shit in your arms, and leave.

On the way down the hall to your unit, he realizes this plan means this will probably be the last time he ever sees you. Spare some chance encounter at the grocery store, this would be the final time he’d feel your sweet eyes on him or see that timid smile when he complimented you. That made him sad to think about. He never thought you’d be a permanent fixture in his life. You and his son were young, and being the type of guy his son was, he doubted your relationship was destined to succeed. In honesty, he was shocked it lasted as long as it did. But now, the ending was real. Knowing the time with you in his life was coming to a close felt how the sky outside looked.

Once he reaches the door with your number on it, his fist taps the wood twice. He hears soft shuffling inside, followed by the sound of locks being undone a couple moments later. You crack the door open, standing there in your pajamas. Both your top and bottoms were plain gray. You looked worn down. He could tell you’d been crying. Poor baby.

Your tired eyes flicker with curiosity when they glance up at his face. 

“Mr. Kennedy?” you ask with confusion.

His mouth breaks into a charming grin upon hearing that. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leon before it sticks?” he teases.

“Sorry…” you say. You didn’t smile at his teasing like normal. Given the circumstances, he supposed that made sense. “What are you doing here?”

“I have some of your stuff you left at my house. Can I come in?” he asks.

Now your eyes flash with a brief spout of anger, but you still open the door wider for him to enter.

“He couldn’t bring it to me?” you ask with clear bitterness in your tone.

He cringes at the sound. What was he supposed to say? In reality, he was on your side, but wouldn’t it be wrong to tell you that? He loved his son. He really did. Even with all the mistakes he made and the flaws he’d caused the boy, he loved him. He probably shouldn’t talk shit about him with his ex-girlfriend.

But at the same time, it was you. You weren’t just some random ex-girlfriend. He’d known you for the better half of a year. You were sweet, actually polite enough to say hello when you came over. You could hold a conversation. And sure, it didn’t hurt any that you were cute too. He felt something strong for you. He just struggled to articulate exactly what that something was. He was tempted to say you’d become part of the family. That’s probably what plenty of others in his situation would say. But the shameful thoughts that plagued his mind when he was alone late at night begged to differ with that assessment

Right now, it didn’t look like you were doing well. He sees the setup you have for yourself on the couch. A heap of blankets, pushed and twisted up around the spot you’d clearly been laying before he interrupted. The curtains were drawn, it was dark in here. You didn’t need him to run defense for the guy who cheated on you, relations aside.

“Guess not,” is how he finally answers your question to which he’s met with a roll of your eyes.

“Of course,” you mutter while walking over to meet him at the counter so you can inspect your items after he puts them down.

You rifle through the different things, scanning them haphazardly before returning your disinterested gaze to him. Your arms cross over your chest, and you shrug.

“Thanks, I guess.”

You’re clearly expecting him to leave now. And he knows that’s what he should do. Awkwardly shuffle out the door with a small wave goodbye. He can’t though. Something inside him won’t let him pull away just yet.

“How have you been?” he starts tentatively, “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” 

“Fine… I guess,” you answer.

You guess. Again. A nervous tick. An indicator of deflection. You clearly didn’t want to delve into the inner workings of your broken heart with the father of the man responsible. He should back off. But he doesn’t.

“Are you sure? I know you two are broken up now or whatever you want to call it, but I still care about you, you know? You’re a sweet girl,” he starts, hating how this was coming out, “I just… I know how it is to feel alone. I don’t want that for you. If you need someone to talk to…”

“I should come to you? Is that it?” you say, a bit harsher than he would like.

“Well… yeah?” he responds.

You turn away, cutting him off from seeing your reactions. “That’s nice, Leon. But… I don’t think you’re the one I should talk to about any of this,” you say.

He takes a step closer, laying a cautious hand on your shoulder. “I think I’m the perfect one for you to talk to about this,” he says.

His reasoning is brief, but he doesn’t feel the need for more. Despite your resistance, the gears in your head are turning, deciding whether or not to take the offer. “There’s nothing to even talk about. It is what it is,” you reply. He can hear that characteristic softness returning to your voice.

“I don’t think that’s true. You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, getting even closer. He gently guides you back to the couch and clears some space for the two of you to sit. He directs your eyes back to him before he finishes speaking. “It’ll stay between us.”

You look up at him, sweet glossy eyes threatening to spill your emotions down your cheeks. He can see your apprehension, but in the end, you still decide to go for it.

“I just… I feel so dumb,” you start, biting your lip.

“You shouldn’t,” he tells you.

“But I do,” you say, voice becoming strained, “People told me he would do something like this, and I actually defended him. I’m so stupid, and everyone knows it now.”

While he wasn’t too pleased to learn of his son’s reputation, his sympathy for you overwhelms that. His hand rubs up and down your back as your head falls to your hands.

“Sweetheart…” he sighs, the term rolling out before he can stop himself, “It’s not your fault. It’s not a bad thing to be trusting.”

He sees your face tense as you lose the battle to hold your tears in. His heart aches seeing you look so defeated.

“Yes it is,” you cry, “I hate it.”

“Hey, c’mere,” he says and pulls you closer. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and holds you to his side. “Don’t talk like that about yourself, ok? Being cheated on doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

He felt slightly awkward considering the cheater in question is his own flesh and blood. The feeling of your soft body against him overrides that thought though. You’re still weeping into his chest, so he continues.

“Look, baby,” he says. Another pet name. His mind screams for him to get a grip. “I love my son, but… I know him too. He can be insensitive, and that’s not what a girl like you needs.”

You look up at him, interested in his potential point. In your eyes, he feels he can see his reflection glaring back at him with disapproval.

“You’re such a precious thing. Someone to be handled with care,” he whispers, stroking your jaw, “I don’t want this to take that from you.”

More tears roll down your cheeks while you take in his words. He swipes a couple away with his thumb as he talks to you.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes. With my ex-wife, with my son, with my work. Christ, just with my life in general.” Why was he telling you this? “I look at you, and you remind me of who I was before those mistakes. I know stuff like this can make you bitter, and I just don’t want that to happen to you. You don’t need to blame yourself for what he did or try to keep how you feel inside. Once you get past this, you’re gonna move onto something better for you. I just don’t want you to forget that.”

He watches your lip quiver harder before the floodgates finally burst. Now that he’d given you permission, you don’t hold back. A sob tumbles from your lips. He immediately goes to pull you closer again, but this time you take it upon yourself. His eyes widen as you scoot into his lap.

It’s as if he acts on instinct though. As soon as you have your face buried against his throat, his arms loop around you in return. One hand rubs the expanse between your shoulder blades while the other simply supports the small of your back.

“Sweet baby…” he whispers.

“He told me he loved me,” you weep. He can feel your warm tears dripping down his skin now.

“I’m sure he did, honey,” he says and rocks back and forth with you a bit.

Now you really unload. You cry against him about basically every wrongdoing his son had committed in your time together. He compared you to other girls, told you that you were too needy, forgot your birthday. And Leon listens to it all, not playing devil’s advocate even once.

Guilt burns hot in his chest though. Nevertheless, he tries to convince himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was just helping a poor, hurting girl in need. But that excuse crumbles when he simply thinks about what his son would say to the sight of his ex-girlfriend curled up on his father’s lap, clinging to him like he was her new man.

His mind continued trying to justify this anyways, putting forth the idea that this was out of his control. He was powerless when it came to situations like this. The life he led so far had wired a savior complex into his brain. He couldn’t resist you, another princess he could restore to her pedestal.

That was definitely part of why he didn’t put you back on the couch and slowly begin to make an exit. The other part was less honorable. Despite his mind’s ideas of noble motivations, deep down he knew part of this was selfishness. Being human, he wasn’t gonna complain about a pretty young girl warming his lap. And being himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain because that girl happened to be you. The guilt he felt faded instantly with one look at your doe face or one word from your tender voice.

“None of that is your fault,” he comforts you once you finish your list and breaks away from his thoughts, “You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I know…” you whimper before another sob comes from you, “I hate him so much. But it’s even worse cause I still miss him.”

That shoots a sharp pang of jealousy through his heart to which he mentally slaps himself. God, you made him feel pathetic, but in a way he didn’t want to admit, that was part of the appeal. He holds you tighter and nuzzles the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“That’s ok. It’s only natural,” he coos and continues soothing you.

“Why do I miss him? How do I make it stop?” you cry, your voice cracking.

Fuck. You really did remind him of himself which only made this more twisted. He knew what you were feeling so well. That longing ache that festers inside until you feel like clawing your skin off and prying your ribs apart to purge yourself of the infection. He sighs and shifts you on his thigh, pulling you closer to him.

“You can’t make it go away. You know that. It’s a time-heals-all-wounds situation, sweetheart. Just gotta wait it out, but it’ll get better,” he says.

Then he must have truly gone over the edge because he leans in and presses a faint kiss to your hairline. Luckily for him, you don’t protest. Instead, it draws more tears from you. Your arms lock around him and pull the rest of your body closer

“I just feel empty, and I don’t know why. He wasn’t that great… no offense,” you sniffle.

“None taken,” he says softly, a small smile rising on his lips. He keeps rubbing your back, resting his head on top of yours. “Most breakups hurt, even when you’ve run the course of the relationship. It’s not fun losing someone.”

It wouldn’t be fun losing you. That was for fucking sure. He was only making it worse for himself by doing all this. At this point, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to tear himself away once you stopped crying.

“I guess,” you whimper, lip puffing out into a sweet pout he’d only ever seen as a joke before.

“You’re such a sensitive girl, honey. So delicate,” he murmurs against your hair. He knows he should stop. He’s toeing the borderline, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from hurdling over it at full force.

“I’m overdramatic,” you correct.

He scoffs, dismissing your claim. “Did someone tell you that? Because they don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re precious,” he whispers with another kiss to your head.

That word seems to strike something in you. Your crying that had been dwindling seems to soften down to an occasional ragged breath. You look up at him with your watery eyes. He continues to push away remaining tears on your cheeks before running his knuckles down your jaw.

As he looks into your eyes, the temptation becomes irresistible. He needs you.

“Sweet thing like you… you need someone who can understand you, protect those feelings of yours, not make you feel bad about ‘em,” he says, his thumb dragging over your chin.

“You think so?” you ask.

“Oh yeah. There’s nothing wrong with wearing your heart on your sleeve,” he says teasingly, “All it means is that you care. Plus, this may be just me, but I think it’s pretty cute.”

Your teary eyes widen just the slightest amount, and your hips squirm a bit on his lap. You look down at your fingers fidgeting with one another.

“I don’t know,” you say quietly.

“I do. You’re so pretty when you cry, baby,” he mutters and lifts your chin to get you to look at him again, “You have puppy eyes, just begging for some love.”

A shy smile starts spreading on your face. Your eyes cast down, and he knows he’s got you hooked. Now he just has to reel you in.

“Yeah, you know it’s true,” he whispers and leans in to kiss your cheeks, “Bet you have a lot of fun using ‘em on people.”

“No,” you say timidly, eyes glancing back up at him.

“Oh, of course not. A little angel like you would never take advantage,” he teases. He kisses across your cheek bone to your temple, and then moves his lips down to where your jaw meets your neck. He can hear your breath hitching. His hands pull you closer to his body, feeling your warmth up against him. One slides to your side, rubbing up and down slowly.

“That’s why you need to be taken care of,” he breathes against your skin, “Let me take care of you, baby.”

You nod with no hesitation on your part. He can tell from the breath you let out that you're giving into some temptations of your own. Your head leans in and he ducks down to connect your lips, nearly groaning as he feels the plush flesh press against him. The kisses start off tender, just little pecks as you explore the feeling of each other. But they soon grow in passion. Your mouths open against each other. Your tongues meet, and spit coats one another's lips. You’re both breathing heavier.

He pulls back to look at you, those eyes he had been going on about now clouded with lust. Moving in for a few more, he cups your face. “You like that?” he murmurs.

“Mhm,” you hum, reciprocating the affection. 

He chuckles as you move in even closer, the swell of your breasts pushing up against his chest. His hands squeeze your waist and turn you around so your back is to his front, your head tilted on his shoulder.

“Pretty baby, so eager for me,” he coos as his hands smooth up your stomach to your chest. He fondles your tits through your top, feeling their entirety since you weren’t wearing a bra.

The softest noise of satisfaction leaves you, and you nip at his lips. He deepens the kiss in response, groping you a bit harder. Your hands travel South to his belt, attempting to undo behind your back, but his hand drops and grabs your wrists.

“Not yet,” he corrects with a kiss to your temple, “There’s no rush. I want to take my time with you. Warm you up like you deserve.”

His mouth envelopes yours again while his hand releases your wrists and returns to your breast. He can feel your nipples perking up in anticipation. His cock starts to do the same beneath you. As you feel it, you roll your ass back against him, providing some friction. He smiles against your lips, the prior reservations he had about this leaving his mind one by one.

Maneuvering his palms between your thighs, his fingers coast up and down the sensitive skin. His mouth trails down to your neck to kiss you there, sucking soft love bites onto your throat. You’re single now. It’s not like you’d have to hide them.

He parts your legs a bit more before cupping them underneath and pulling you down so that you’re at an angle where he can remove the fluffy pajama pants that kept him from his target. You watch the soft fabric fall away and crumple up on the floor. You’re a little jittery as he exposes your skin now. This is real, no longer a far-fetched fantasy.

His hand is on your pussy in seconds, stroking you through the thin cotton that covers it. The kisses to your throat don’t stop, and his free hand keeps you in place on his lap.

“Those college boys you’ve been running around with are too busy thinking with their dicks. They don’t know what to do with a prize like you,” he murmurs and drags his nose up the curve of your face.

He chooses to forget the fact that the boy you had been running around with was his son. That didn’t need to matter right now. All that mattered was the whimper that fell from you, the way your hair felt against the crook of his neck. His fingers play with you a little more before sliding into your panties.

“Aw, you’re already getting wet, hm?” he purrs, “Precious girl. Probably so pent up. Never been properly fucked the way you shoulda been.”

You nod and turn your head to look into his eyes. He takes the chance to kiss you again, working his mouth with yours while his fingers coasted through your folds.

“Need you to make it better,” you mumble against his lips.

You feel his smirk and how he kisses with increased fervor. The pads of his fingers swirl around your clit, eliciting a tiny gasp from you.

“Not a problem, baby. You’re not leaving my lap till you can’t remember why you were crying in the first place,” he whispers.

You sigh with content and resume languidly making out. His fingertips are rough on the smooth skin of your center, dragging over your sweet spots with the best friction you’d ever felt. Your body arches into his touch. You actually want more. A refreshing feeling for you.

He continues focusing on your sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking over it, pressing small circles into it, swiping down across it. Occasionally, he’d massage lower, teasing your entrance and feeling the arousal pooling from his actions.

“You like how I’m playing with you? Feel good having that clit touched? It’s so sensitive, just like the rest of you,” he breathes.

You nod again,  a desperate whine unraveling out of you. He chuckles and speeds up his fingers.

“I knew you would. You’re beyond the little boys who thrust a few times and leave you wanting for more. Think it’s pretty obvious you need a real man,” he says.

He didn’t even know where half this stuff was coming from, but he wasn’t gonna launch an investigation into it. It worked for you, so it was working for him.

Your hips buck as he maintains a steady pace and even amount of pressure. He rubbed you just the way you liked, as if he knew your body on an instinctual level.

“You’re gonna cum just from my fingers. You can do it. Have you gushing already before I slip my cock in you,” he murmurs against your skin.

His fingers have started making wet noises as they slide up and down on your cunt. You mewl and tense up, relishing the pleasure he brought you. You whimper out his name quietly, over and over. Leon. Specifically him.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s the one making you feel so good? Who’s the one you’ve needed all along?”

You gasp it again for him. Leon.

“Good girl,” he growls.

He moves his fingers with more precision and dedication, taking you right to the blissful edge and letting you crash over it. Watching how your body writhes on his lap, he holds you through it. He makes sure to keep you up right.

You feel lightning strike within you, the storm of euphoria swirling in the pit of your stomach. You let go all over his fingers, and thoroughly coat his hand with your release. He goes in for more, sliding his fingers down as if they’re going to dip inside you, but you whine in protest.

“Leon… don’t wanna wait anymore,” you whimper.

He chuckles at your impatience and shakes his head.

“You talk about it like you’ve been waiting forever when it’s only been a couple minutes,” he teases.

“Feels like forever,” you pout.

He kisses your frown and pulls your underwear off completely. He then turns you around on his lap to face him.

“You ready for the real thing then?” he breathes, smirking at your quick confirmation.

He boosts his hips off the couch and shoves his pants down enough so that his cock can spring free. It bobs up in anticipation. His hand grasps it, sliding it against your entrance. 

After a few teasing swipes, he sinks you down on it, savoring every small change in your expression. Your eyes flutter, your mouth lolls open slightly, your brows furrow.

“Oh, I can tell that’s what you’ve been needing,” he whispers, guiding your hips into a rhythm.

You bounce up and down on him, breathy moans escaping you with each rise and fall.

“Mhm, wanted it for so long,” you whine.

His eyebrow raises at that. “Yeah?” he grunts, sharply inhaling as you squeeze around him, “How long? How bad did you want it?”

“So bad. Wanted it for months,” you confess as your head falls back, “Wanted to be yours instead.”

He knows he’s going to hell for the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins. He doesn’t falter though, just pulls you closer and starts thrusting up into you.

“Oh, did you? Dirty secret, baby, but I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way,” he moans before reconnecting his mouth with yours, “Sweet baby like you, wanted you to be all mine.”

A quick moan leaves you, and you keep riding. Your hips roll up and down, working him as deep into you as he can go. Your arousal drips down his heavy balls, making a mess where the two of you connect.

“Dreamed about you sometimes,” you gasp, letting it all out.

His eyes droop with more desire. They shouldn’t, but your revelations only spurred him on. He thrusts up harder and digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips.

“Yeah? Bet you felt so guilty waking up soaked between your legs for someone you couldn’t have,” he says, vision trained on you, “I felt the same way. Hard as a rock for you and no relief.”

“Now there is,” you whimper as you lean down and nuzzle your face against his.

With hot breaths in each other's face, you both feel the cords of release being pulled taut. You bite your lip, and he cages you in against his body, keeping you flush against him.

“Even with that dirty little secret, you’re still such a good girl. Need you to be my good girl,” he mumbles in your ear before moaning, hips tensing as he feels the sweeping sense of euphoria.

You nod dumbly as your own high creeps up on you. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whine before burying your face into his shoulder. Your hands clutch at his biceps, digging little crescents into the muscle.

He fucks you through it, making you see stars and keeping them suspended in your sights. You cling to him and clamp around him. His thrusts get sloppy, but he won’t stop until you’re coming down. That’s when he finally pulls out and gives himself a few strokes to completion, finishing on your ass. He figured you were on the pill, but he wasn’t going to make a riskier chance an even bigger risk.

You feel the warm liquid dripping down the curve of your ass. You’re too fucked out to be concerned with clean up right now though. He smiles down at you and gives you some kisses as a way to cool you off.

Reaching over to the end table, he grabs a few tissues and swipes away the small mess on your backside. After some more soothing affection, the two of you briefly readjust your clothing and get comfy with each other again. He figured this probably wasn’t the best thing he could be doing in this situation. He just fucked his son’s ex and now he was going to cuddle her too? But he does it anyway because it was what you needed, and that was his mind’s priority at the moment.

He thinks about leaving though, reverting to the original plan. He could let you doze off and just slip away. But he doesn’t. You’re too sweet, and you’re hurting. He didn’t want to pile on, but the idea that this shouldn’t develop into more than a passionate fuck still lingers in his mind..

That is until he hears your voice.

“Are you gonna leave?” you ask softly.

He looks down, heart aching at the sight of you.

“Not yet,” he answers.

“Ok good,” you say and sink into him again, “I might need you again later. In case I get sad again.”

He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play innocent. “Guess I’m stuck here then. Can’t have you crying all alone,” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum, leaning up to give him a kiss. One of the sweetest kisses he’d ever had. And just like that, you’re luring him back in.

“You know… maybe I should be proactive, make sure you don’t get the chance to be sad again today…” he murmurs, shifting to lay down on the couch and give you some kisses of his own. “Think you need some more distracting.”

He was done for.

[kishibei]

GUYS MY AGE ...

dilf! toji x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.6k words

summary: toji loves everything about his younger girlfriend, all except the overly friendly relationship she has with his son. to curb his unspoken fear of losing you, you fuck him.

cont: jealousy, possessive language, affectionate toji, missionary, mating press, no resolution, creampie per usual

Toji loved your body; he could never fight that little nagging thought sitting in the back of his mind— the one telling him to touch you.

Your boyfriend's hands were strong, holding a roughness that was tender in its own right— the honest pads of his fingers hardened from years of dirty work.

His fingerprints were practically committed to your memory, each one just a little different from the next. Uneven swirls and ridges winded into each other; tips tacked with scars and deeper indentations from his gunslinging days.

You could feel them all when he walked his hands down your body; even more so when he had you spread open across his thighs, teasing you with just a couple of fingers.

...

Toji appreciated the softer parts of you and paid more attention to them. Your chest, your ass, and the slight pinch of your cheeks constantly reminded him of your youth compared to his— a youth that appeared long gone when you'd met his gaze now; thin black eyes adorned with crow's feet.

His eyes held a vision that was faraway, a distant kind of look he'd always given when he was upset about something. That stoney face he wore never failed to betray his emotions, bearing them on his sleeves despite his best efforts at swallowing them down. There was only one thing that could've been bothering Toji; the same thing that had been eating him up for weeks— his irrational fear of losing you.

Toji really had nothing to worry about when it came to keeping you to himself. You were a one man kind of girl, ignoring the advances of any others who set their sights on you. He often scorned your younger peers, making fun of them without second thought, especially taking joy in tormenting the very man who introduced you to himself: his own son.

...

His first and only, Megumi was beyond fit. Clever, agile, and full of much more life than he was; Megumi was the spitting image of Toji in his younger years. Their striking resemblance was never quite something he saw as a bad thing, at least not until he began to date you.

It was the spoils of his own labor he envied— so much younger and almost perfect for you.

With the kind of drive that came with youth, Megumi easily had a long list of goals he fought fiercely to achieve; ones that he was never really shy to let you know of. He was shameless in this right, not even trying to hide his willingness to impress you in front of his father.

Toji would have been an idiot to not notice his son's infatuation with you. Only a fool would've choosen to ignore the longing glances, the lingering hugs, how the younger man always managed to look away whenever his father kissed you.

At times your boyfriend wondered if you’d prefer someone who wasn't this much your senior, mumbling his insecurities into your chest when he thought you’d already fallen asleep at night.

You had loved him just as much as he did you; your heart swelling with an appreciation for all things Toji. So here in his lap, you humor him; giving him a small reminder of just who you belonged to.

The man had softened up over the years but his strength still remained, thick corded muscle staying firm beneath the thinning skin he had cursed so much.

You hardly blinked; watching intently as he fingered the hem of the shirt he was wearing, peeling it off slowly to expose his muscular chest. His pecs were adorned with light blue branches of veins that shone through his patinaed skin.

Despite how perfect, almost god-like he appeared in this moment, the sight reminded you of his humanity.

You're not sure of what exactly he did before he settled down with you, how many people he’d really killed, or the curses that followed him in his lifetime; but it was a reminder that blood still ran thick in those veins of his, and that they sustained the heart that bled only for you.

“I love you…” he whispered, the sudden confession making you laugh. A giggle bubbled up in your throat before bursting forth into the air, a sound reminiscent of wind chimes escaping your lips. It was an infectious thing, lifting the corners of Toji’s lips to form a gentle arc that stretched from cheek to cheek.

He's impatient when he tugs your jeans off, not even bothering to remove his as he opens his fly just enough to pull his heavy cock out. You know he’s hard despite the fact it barely stands erect, his leaky head bowing under the weight of the rest of him.

You can't help but lick your lips as you stare down at it, eyes already lidded with hazy vision as he grips onto the base, slipping into you without much of a fight.

A shaky breath leaves Toji's lips as he settles in, hissing at how your hole flutters, already clamping down on him.

"Shit..” he sibilates, “so fuckin’ wet for me…”

The words seem to go straight to your pussy as you clench around him, whining a bit from the praise and the mind-numbing feeling of him sinking into you.

He’s so big, he knows he is. Toji’s fully aware of how he fills you to the brim, how deep he reaches, practically prodding at your cervix as he lowers you down on him. He’s teeming with confidence now, pressing down on your tummy to show you just where he’s sure the tip of his length reaches.

“Mm, you feel that, baby?”

You blink slowly, trying to clear your head enough to find the words to respond. Pushing past little whimpers, you stumble over all the syllables you need. Deciding it's best to give up on speaking, you nod profusely, craning your neck to rest your head on his shoulder. Upon revealing your stupefied expression to him, he laughs like he always does; a low rumble that just drips in arrogance as it falls from his lips.

“That’s all me…” he purrs, deft fingers slowly caressing the rest of your body, stopping to squeeze at your soft chest.

His unyielding touch moves down to your legs; strong hands finding purchase on the back of your thighs as he practically folds you in half, pressing your thighs to your chest like nothing.

It's so much, and you can feel him even deeper now, every inch of him plunging into you at a disconcerting pace. You squeal as he pounds into you sloppily, pressing messy kisses to your cheeks, the tops of your ears, down the expanse of your neck, and just about every bit of skin he can get his lips on from this angle.

He loves you, this you know. And even if he hadn't said it earlier, the way he’s fucking you says it all.

“Ooohh, shit Toji!” you sputter, eagerly bouncing on the man’s lap as you try to match his thrusts. Your body shakes with the force of each pump, moaning wantonly as he slowly drags his cock out of you, ramming it back in your dripping hole again and again.

You seem to be growing dumber by the second, incoherent babbles and whines leaving your lips as he fucks the shit out of you. If you could focus on one thing, you would; but your eyes shift everywhere, rolling into the back of your head before meeting with the place where your bodies connected, watching in a trance as Toji’s thick cock disappears into your sopping wet cunt.

Toji grunts, his hips bucking wildly as he clings to you tightly, your back against his broad chest as he uses the force of his pounding to bounce you on even harder than before. He grits through his teeth, eyes shutting hard before they open again, his lips at your ears as a string of expletives leave them.

“Fuckin’ hell, ease up, you’re squeezin’ me…” he strained, jaw clenched so tightly that it looked like it might just break.

Toji looked like he was reeling, so close to the edge but still holding on, trying to push you over yours before letting himself go.

“Fuck…whose pussy is this?" he panted, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried keeping his pace, his hips stuttering as he got closer to finishing now.

You couldn’t answer, mouth preoccupied with moan after the next as you tried anyways, babbling at him like an idiot.

“Mmngh! Y-yours! Yours, right?!"

It was difficult to even answer him straight, just saying anything, you jumbled up the first few words that floated into your hazy mind.

Toji laughed, taking in a shaky breath as he kept going, pulling your legs back even further as he slammed into you with a force that was overwhelming.

"Mine… all fuckin’ mine, you hear?!"

His pace was grueling and you were surely at your limit, crystalline tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he fucked you. Your skin felt like it was on fire, a deep familiar knot in the pit of your stomach just threatening to break.

“I hear! Hear you, Toji!" you yelped, mouth hung open in a perpetual 'O' as you teetered over the edge, right at the cusp of your orgasm.

“I can't! Can’t take any more, please!"

Toji amused you with a crooked grin, using his rough fingers to circle your puffy clit, the extra stimulation giving you just what you needed. You came with a cry, electricity coursing through your veins as you moaned wantonly, gushing around him with a shudder.

The force of your orgasm sent Toji straight into his own, groaning loudly as he emptied himself inside you, filling you to the brim with thick spurts of cum.

He huffed, chest heaving as he kissed you messily, slotting his tongue into your mouth just before he pulled away to speak.

“You’re so good… but just for me, yea?"

He pressed his lips against yours again and the corners of your mouth turned up in a satisfied smile, loving when he got like this. Toji grew soft, cuddling up to you as he slipped out of your cunt, a runny mix of both his and your fluids dripping onto his lap.

“Only for me…”

©2023 KISHIBEI do not repost, modify, distrib. or translate.

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part eight - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

Mr Kim has a chapter all to himself of 6.8K words, please enjoy and PLEASE let me know what you think. Trigger warnings: manipulation, coercion, corruption, interrogation, mentions of murder and other crimes, swearing, jealousy, possessive yandere behaviour, fingering, orgasm denial, mirror sex, light choking. I am awful with warnings, please forgive me.

Namjoon wasn’t all that impressed with seeing the Chief of police visiting his cell, the syndicate boss was dressed too well to belong there, it was almost an eyesore. A glance to the camera, the normal red blinking light absent tells him all he needs to know. There were no eyes or ears to this conversation. 

“I thought I paid you to keep your men in line,” Namjoon says in lieu of greeting. “Was a bullet to the knee not warning enough for your dear Captain?”

“He wasn’t an issue when I spoke to him, the man was on leave!” the chief replied. “Your girl was the problem he-”

“Be very careful how you finish that sentence,” he advised with a deep angry rumble from his chest. “I am well aware who is at fault here, and regardless of what our little love does, she is never to blame.”

Chief Lee Soo-man only nods once, biting back his complaints.

“I asked you to sort out Kim Suho, I told you to keep him in check,” Namjoon growls. “Keeping your pockets full isn’t an act of charity Lee, it’s a purchase. I own you.”

“Yes sir,” he mumbles in response. “I assure you this arrest is just a formality, the case won’t stand once it’s revealed Detective L/n-”

The glare the man in the blazerless three piece suit gave him was enough to stop him in his tracks. Right, he couldn’t involve you in this, that was going to make things harder than they needed to be.

“What do you recommend then sir?” he asks when he finds his voice and wavering courage. 

Namjoon sighs harshly, and the Chief swears he can almost see smoke. 

“I want to be alone with my little love,” it’s not a request, the chief didn’t let the soft lilt of his fool him. 

“I don’t know how that would be poss-”

“I want-” Namjoon cuts in, unable to bear another second of this blithering idiot, “her to be the one to interrogate me. And I can trust you understand the rest.”

“Y-yessssir,” he stutters, not completely hearing the words between the lines, and that was clear enough on his face. 

“I want her alone, Sooman,” Namjoon repeats himself, if this were one of his men he would never have needed to. “I don’t want a single soul witness to what I’m going to do to her.”

—

Suho tugs you along by the arm, stumbling in his urgent pace, pulling you out of ear shot.

“We have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“I’m technically on health leave, brass says I can’t interrogate him,” he stares a hole into you as if his eyes were telling you the rest but you couldn’t understand.

“Okay so who’s replacing you?”

He huffs out a breath of air from his nose, knowing you weren’t going to like the command from way over his head.

Your heart beats hard in anticipation, why was he looking at you like that?

“As far as Brass are aware you were deep undercover,” Suho informs you slowly, deliberately, looking like he was about to tear your world to trash. He sighs, unable to get the words out.

“Suho what?”

“They want you to interrogate him,” he breathes, you think you’ve misheard him, but you know you haven’t.

Your world spins, you’re already shaking your head.

“I can’t,” you whisper, he knows full well that you can’t. “I resigned, I’m not a detective anymore.”

He sighs again, hesitation in his eyes. 

“I never processed it,” he confesses.

“Y-you di-”

“I couldn’t, I knew you would see reason, I knew you would come back,” he doesn’t let you process the shock, explaining himself quickly. 

“Suho I can’t I can’t,” you beg, the conviction you had to punish them now suddenly taking a back seat as fear overtakes you, “right now they believe I was deep undercover but he’s not going to let that-“

“Listen to me,” he interrupts you before you can fully submerge into a panic attack, taking your hand in his. “I’m going to be in the next room, as soon as he says anything that compromises you, I’ll turn off the cameras, okay?”

“But-“

You’re interrupted again when the door opens, both of you whipping your heads to see him being transferred by four officers to the interrogation room. His eyes find you, staring stoic holes into you before his gaze finds Suho’s hands comforting yours. The snarl of displeasure is brief but you definitely see it, and you can’t breathe.

Suho draws your attention back to him, tugging your hand softly.

“Do you trust me Y/n?” he implores you, eyes searching yours in a way that made Namjoon want to strangle him with the chains on his handcuffs. You look up at your Captain with such light in your eyes, a way you should never look at another man, and then you have the audacity to nod. 

—

You’ve done this a hundred times, if not more. So why were you hesitating at the door? Your hand on the handle, all you had to do was turn it and face the music but you couldn’t even manage finding your breath. 

Interrogation was a science, it was like riding a bike, you knew what you had to do, you had to command the room. It almost sounded like a joke, the worst one you’d ever heard. Command a room when Kim Namjoon was in it? 

The thought makes you hyperventilate. No, it wasn’t going to be easy but you could control what you could. You borrowed clothes from an old colleague, a skirt and blouse, simple but professional. Suho’s old blazer too, as if layers would protect you. You had splashed water on your face in the bathroom, using makeup from evidence to make yourself look presentable, composed. Your impromptu freshening up had meant you left the syndicate leader waiting for a long time, and it absolutely 100% was not because you were trying to kill time, it was to make him stew in the room, a technique you had used multiple times prev- who were you trying to convince? 

You needed to get this over with. 

Your face is impassive when you finally open the door, his gaze is on you immediately and you can feel a certain type of guilt and shame try to seep its way into you, but you push it down far enough that you can pretend it’s not there.

“Mr Kim Namjoon,” you greet him stoically.

“Detective L/n,” he returns, playing along with a small smile, as if seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. The way he addressed you shouldn’t cut you, logically it made no sense not when you’re the one that got him in the box, but it did. 

You approach the table he’s chained to, looking at the wood instead of his eyes as if he didn’t matter, or at least that’s how you wanted it perceived. Avoiding eye contact with the most dangerous man the whole country had ever come to know, meant you missed the way his stare moved to your clothes, particularly your blazer, recognising it was a man’s, and he could confidently guess exactly who it belonged to. Any friendliness on his face disappeared, he wanted to play games and now he just wanted to torture you a little, punish you for you actions. Patience, he tells himself, that would come later.

The file in your hands slaps the table as you throw it down, taking a seat opposite your boyfriend, a man you now convinced yourself you wanted behind bars. 

What do they say about a woman scorned? Namjoon thinks to himself, admiring the fire he could see burning underneath your skin, and though he knew he would feel the burn, he would welcome it. It was no secret that he had a fantasy about you interrogating him, he introduced the role play to the bedroom soon after your return to them but it lacked the flames of heat he could feel today. 

“Allow me to formally introduce myself,” you reply. “My name is detective Y/n L/n, I’ve been undercover at your… establishment for the past year and a half.”

“Is that right?” he barely suppressed his amusement but it didn’t phase you. Your professional head was on, this was just another criminal you had to put away, that was it. 

You open the file, sliding out photos of him that you had sent in as intel in your early days undercover as well as surveillance photos that Suho had taken since you were MIA. 

“Do you know who this man is Mr Kim,” you say, sliding the first of the photos to him.

“Can’t say I do detective,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not even glancing away from you. 

“Do you want to try looking at his face first before you answer,” you insisted unimpressed. 

He smiles, still staring at you. 

“I don’t recognise him,” he repeats himself slowly. 

“So this isn’t you in the photo?” You ask.

“I don’t know,” his grin only grows.

“This man, Jackson Wang, is dead, and the last person who saw him alive seems to have been you Mr Kim, at least based on the time stamp on this photo and the time of death from the post mortem.”

“Is that right,” he says again, sounding like a broken record. His eyes swim with admiration for you, you can see it though you can’t understand it at all with the current scene. Why wasn’t he fuming, why wasn’t he demanding an answer or explanation?

“Okay let's cut the crap since I know you’re far too clever for that Mr Kim,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. “I have gathered evidence of your crimes from the last 18 months, and I will stand in court as a witness against you.”

“Are you allowed to do that little love?” he asks, the name has a pang of panic hit you, but you tell yourself you can explain it away to brass.

“The charges you're facing so far are murder, battery, and grand larceny to name a few,” you state ignoring him, flicking through the photos, throwing each one in front of him. “There are many more to follow.”

“I didn’t know partners could testify against each other,” he mused, smirk still strong on his face.

“I’m not your partner,” you object. “I was undercover.”

“No,” he contends, shaking his head like this was just a game to him. “You can’t fake a love like ours, heaven.”

You almost snort as if his point was ridiculous.

“I don’t think I could ever love someone like you Mr Kim,” your stare was ice cold, that finally wipes the smile off his face. 

“You’re angry,” he states as if it was new information for you. “I get that little love, but this is a bit too much, don’t you think?”

“I think justice needs to be served, don't you?” you sneered. “People got hurt, some people died, someone needs to pay.”

“You and I both know they deserved it,” he declares as if there wasn’t a camera recording his confession. “You’re just angry because I stepped on a bug.”

Utter rage brewed like a storm in your chest, and you wanted the downpour to drown him. 

“You sound like you’re ready to sign the confession Mr Kim,” you don’t break your stare. “That’s great, saves us a lot of time, thank you.”

You close the file, pushing the chair back to stand. 

“I’m not done with you,” he growled.

“But I’m done with you.” 

“Y/n sit,” he commands calmly, composing himself. “Throwing a fit isn’t going to fix things.”

“Throwing a fit?” The audacity of this man, you stand there in shock. 

“Let’s talk it through,” he says to you as if you were being hysterical. 

“Fuck you,” you spit. 

“Talk to me Y/n,” he scolded you like you were a child. “Without this bullshit.”

“Fine! You wanna talk about it Namjoon,” you snapped, taking the seat again, throwing the file haphazardly on the desk. “Let’s talk about it.”

The glare you present him with doesn’t make him flinch, it doesn’t phase him. You hope Suho had enough sense to turn the cameras off by now, this would go nowhere. 

“You manipulated me, you lied to me, you made me play the fool.”

He didn’t react, not a single muscle on his face moved and it fanned whatever flame explode inside of you like a bomb. This was his true colours underneath the mask of love and adoration he created for you.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore Namjoon I can see right through you,” you state. “And you are never touching me again.”

That made him look at you, really look at you, something shifted in his gaze, a slight smirk as if he was mocking you.

You could cry kick and scream about the injustice he put you through in the name of this fucked up love and he wouldn’t flinch. He would sit there and watch and then the fucker would have the audacity to laugh afterwards. He must’ve laughed at how stupid you were in trusting him when he lied.

“At least if you go to prison, I’ll finally be free,” you whisper like it’s a life line.

He’s still unmoved, sitting there as if you were invisible and it irked the fuck out of you. He was the one who wanted to talk, why the fuck was he silent now? 

You wanted him to hurt you wanted him to feel an ounce of what you did in the light of his betrayal. He tore your heart out and you weren’t going to forgive him.

“I must’ve looked so pathetic,” you say in a self deprecating tone, looking at the ceiling as if someone could answer you. “Suho was right.”

That comment makes his blood boil hard enough to show on his face. There it was, the reaction you were waiting for and you took the bait without thinking about what you were trying to catch or what you were trapped with.

“I should’ve trusted him, he’s always had my back and my best interest at heart.”

His jaw clenches, a fist squeezing nothing but air although he probably wished it was the captain's neck.

“Kai and Suho are all I have left,” you goad him, unsure of what exactly it was that you wanted to prove. “And finally I’m back where I belong.”

“If you don’t want a bullet in each of their heads, you need to stop talking love,” he grunts through gritted teeth.

Something inside of you felt vindicated and you realise then what you wanted from him, proof he fucking cared, that you weren’t some pawn or prize in this game of crime. You wanted him to soothe the very cuts he caused, or rip your heart out hard enough that you could bleed him out of your system forever.

“Oh please Namjoon, just admit why you kept me around for so long,” you scoff. “I can only imagine how it felt to have the lead detective on your case in the palm of your hands, like a trophy, a big fuck you to the justice system.”

You laugh sounding a little maniacal.

“You had me, and I fell for all of it.”

“You’re forgetting I didn’t know your true origins at first little love,” his low voice is a warning, he looks at you like he needed to remind you who you belonged to.

“And you’re forgetting I know you,” you bite back. “Any hint of betrayal and you pull the trigger first and ask questions later.”

He stares at you, grimacing.

“And yet here I am, alive.”

“Because I love you,” he says it so casually it throws you off, like it was a fundamental part of his being, like breathing.

“Because you saw an opportunity,” you rationalise.

“Because I could never lose you,” he confesses. “You could rip out my heart, little love and I would still want you, why else would I be here?”

You frown, what did he mean? He was here because you paid an eye for an eye, you betrayed him.

“What’s done is done,” you say as if you were unconcerned. “I will testify against you.”

He leans closer across the table, words for your ears only.

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle seeing Jungkook in prison, love?” Namjoon whispers. “Knowing you put him there? It would kill you.”

The pain his words brought forth only proved them to be true. You did have a soft spot for the youngest, always had. You break eye contact first, looking down at the file and turning back and forth a page as if in contemplation but really to cool your nerves.

Were you really doing this? Sending Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, Tae and Kookie to jail because of an angry outburst? Now your emotions had time to settle after the bomb that exploded when you saw Suho; you weren’t so sure.

“I never thought you could betray us like this,” he says solemnly, continuing to manipulate your guilt, but he forgot about your fire. He could almost see the coals ignite in your eyes, a misstep on his part, one he realised when a snarl forms on your lips.

“You. Lied.” You state ferociously. “I asked you if you hurt him and you lied to me.”

“So you decided to have us all arrested,” he continues, “for a man you stated you didn’t care about like that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you seethe, unable to sit with him any longer, pacing the room before you raised a finger to his face. “You played me like a fool Namjoon, and I refuse to play the part anymore.”

“I wanted him dead, little love,” he states in a low voice through gritted teeth. “Do you understand what a mercy-”

“I asked you not to hurt him!”

“Then you underestimated our wrath!” he retorted. “I couldn’t let him go in one piece, and you didn’t need to know.”

“No. You underestimated MY wrath Kim Namjoon!” You burst, slamming the desk with your hand, the sting burning, your face heating more and more with rage as it concealed your heartache. “I am not some docile doll for you to play with, and manipulate and LIE TO! You took my love for granted when it was a damn fucking privilege.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, he stayed composed while you looked like a wild animal finally let out of her cage.

“You think this obsession is love,” your voice broke at the last word, the floods of heartbreak dampening the fires. “And I did too, but it’s fucked up everything.”

His silence was eating you alive, his face giving nothing of his heart away while yours laid bare out between you.

“You know what I’m done,” you breathe, “have fun rotting in jail Namjoon.”

Tears drop out of the corner of your eyes as you walk away, his piercing gaze doing nothing to deter you. He might’ve had power over you once but that was before he betrayed you. You reach for the door handle, tugging, ready to leave him behind until his trial, but the door doesn’t budge. You still, mind blank for a second before panic overwhelms you. You try again with all your might, pulling as hard as you can over and over before releasing your grip with a harsh breath. You take a gulp, calming yourself, he planned this.

You’re not surprised when you hear the sound of the handcuffs undo or the chains hit the floor. Fucking bastard. An alarm started blaring in the building, loud and overwhelming, but it came too late. Red lights flash, the room glowing as if warning you about the oncoming danger.

“Are we done with your outburst little love,” he says coldly, like your grievances were nothing more than a tantrum.

You turn to face him slowly, more tears dropping without a sound, shaking your head at the way his words cut you down to nothing.

When he stands from the seat your heart gallops with fear and panic. Although it’s helpless you turn back to the door, trying with all your might to open it and escape him. The fire alarm blaring does nothing to ease you, you hang onto the door as you feel him approach, tears falling out of your eyes without control.

Fuck, you were stuck here with the man you sent to jail, you were left to his mercy. His presence looms over you, you can feel him a hair's width behind you, not touching you, not really, but he’s so close it’s overwhelming.

It’s when you feel his breath you freeze, your body shutting down with dread. He presses his cheek to your hair, inhaling you softly. The action makes you jolt away, turning to the side but he grabs your wrist tightly. You don’t look at him, you stare into the two way mirror, your cheeks pathetically wet. You were supposed to hold the power in this room, but you could feel it dwindle away to nothing but smoke.

You’re slammed against the door hard, a whimper escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched in pain. You miss the flash of guilt in his eyes, realising he pushed you too hard. An apology on his lips but the glare when your eyes open stops him. He’s seen anger in your eyes before, hate even, for he knew love didn’t come without it. But fear? Never of him, not even in the days when you were undercover and your life was one unveiled secret away from ending. 

“Get away from me,” you seethe, meaning every word, even when you saw the hurt in his eyes. 

Regret, Kim Namjoon never knew the feeling before, but he knew he never wanted you to look at him the way you were. He needed to keep his calm, one wrong push and you would tear him out of your own heart.

Your eyes fly all over the room, trying to piece together a way to gain some distance. Suho… maybe he was still behind the glass. You tug your wrist as hard as you can, taking steps away from him but his hold is relentless. The blare of the alarm stops ringing but the flashing red lights remain, staining the walls like blood pumping.

“Little lo-“ he starts to say with a sigh, he was being patient but there was only so much time left.

“Suho?” You call desperately trying to look through the glass. You know you’ve made a mistake before you even said his name but fear drives people to do stupid things without thinking.

The most notorious criminal in all of Seoul pulls you back against his chest hard. An arm wraps around your waist, the unforgiving grip on your wrist turning lethal. He rests his chin on your shoulder, staring at you through the mirror. The hairs on your skin stood on end at the frightening change in his eyes, danger rolled off of him and you had no choice but to take every wave.

“Do you think he’s there, love?” The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk that makes you think of a snake, the saccharine tone of his voice hypnotising. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

The palm on your hip moves down to your thigh, he squeezes the flesh. You could feel your heart jumping in your throat.

“Should we give him something to watch?” He murmurs seductively, turning his head to bring his lips so close to your neck. The bruising clutch on your wrist is gone only to find its way to your hair, yanking it back to give himself better access.

Your eyes in the mirror are begging but the inner turmoil from his touch is making you question what exactly you’re asking for. Reason tells you it’s for Suho to save you, to grant you escape, but the way you feel a familiar heat swim to your core has you doubting yourself.

“If he was in there,” he whispers, his lips now on your ear, “don’t you think he’d come in here and try to take you from me, love?”

He chuckles to himself, a joke only he can understand.

“Fuck I’d love to see him try.”

His groan has you aching, your body relapsing to what it knows, anticipating the pleasure and pain only they could provide. 

​​“I’m not mad at you for having us arrested, heaven,” he whispers in your ear, gaze softening for a second in the mirror lulling you into a sense of security you couldn’t tell if it was a trap. “In fact I’m a little in awe, a little proud.”

The smirk he gives you seems genuine.

“We deserved it I know,” reassurance fills his voice, he wants you to hear his sincerity. “What I’m mad about, little love…”

The softness is gone, eyes turn piercing, the proverbial snake about to strike.

“Is the fact you let another man touch what’s mine.”

The guttural rumble of his possessive claim sent waves of need down to your cunt, you could feel it pulsing. 

“I’m mine,” you return meekly, trying to find your resolve, but it sounded like a whine.

“Make no mistake Y/n, you’re always going to be mine.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue, not when he sent your eyes rolling back and a shiver down your spine. Fuck he hadn’t even touched you yet, maybe it was true, maybe a part of you would always belong to them, but that didn’t mean all if you did.

“Look at me,” he commands, his breath hitting your neck.

Your blown out eyes meet him in the mirror, that predatory but protective gaze piercing through you. He hums in approval the deep vibration fucking with your senses, making you hazy. 

You both hold eye contact even when you can see the fingers on your thigh stroke soothing circles up your skin. Your lips part with a harsh breath when they rub your mound through the fabric of your panties, the touch light and testing and not nearly enough. 

“You’re fucking soaking wet baby,” he calls you out with a grin.

You grab his wrist when his fingers cup your heat, his thumb soothing circles on your clit. You press against him, the warmth of his chest enveloping your back. You both fit so well together, you were forgetting why exactly you were so angry at him, but simmers of it still remained even through his touch. 

“You know,” he says, opening your leg with his knee to give him more access, “a lot of couples fuck through their problems, should we try?”

He hides his grin, burying his head in you but you can feel it against your skin, the arrogant asshole. 

“You can go and fuck yourself,” you sassed back, lying to yourself that you could be fine if he stopped now, that it wouldn’t leave you a needy mess. 

“But I’d rather fuck you,” he chuckles, breathing you in, savouring the moment while his fingers slide the fabric aside. 

You choke back a moan at the contact of his skin right where you wanted him, the way he spread your wetness until every inch of you was covered in it. 

“You can pretend to regret our relationship all you want, but this,” he emphasises his point by slapping your cunt hard, making you gasp, “still wants me.”

“It wants to get fucked,” you spitefully remark through gritted teeth, “doesn’t have to be you.”

That makes him pause, and you have to bite back the words of displeasure. 

“You’ll pay for that next time love,” he murmurs dangerously. 

“There won’t be a next time,” you try to ridicule him through a laugh but his fingers circle your entrance. 

“You’re lying,” he hums, “next time, I think we should tie you down, make you watch other women touch us in ways only you’re allowed to.”

You bury the fury that ruptures at the image, clenching your jaw to keep from swearing at him and proving the point he was trying to make.

“Maybe then you’d have a semblance of understanding of what you did- the torture you put us through.”

“I wouldn’t care,” you breathe, squirming against his fingers, he needed to shut up and move.

“Liar,” he chuckles knowingly, seeing right through you. Before you, there were many females in his organisation, until his little love demanded he get rid of them all. The memory stretches his grin wider. 

“Why the fuck was it me?” You whisper, your eyes starting to water at the vulnerability of your tone, remembering the same moment he was. “When I went undercover there were so many beautiful women-“

“They’re not you, little love, don’t for a second compare yourself to them,” he kisses your temple softly in reassurance. His face is in your hair, his hand on your throat as you preen to his touch. “You were sweet and addicting with a fire you were trying so desperately to contain.”

He thrusts two fingers in gently, watching your face contort in want in the mirror, smiling at the way your eyes rolled back. You whimper when he squeezes his grip on your neck.

“To think that passion we saw in your eyes was hatred at first,” he smiles as if amused, watching every little reaction you gave him, every proof of love.

“I did,” you confess, pressing your ass against his hard length and making him groan, “I hated you.”

“You were sent to destroy us, love, but instead you reached into our souls and thought there was something worth saving,” he chuckled, nuzzling into you softly as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside of you, feeling every part he knew so well. “And save us you did, it was so dark before you our little light, how could we ever let you leave?”

“You’re fucking with my head,” you whimper, head falling back to his chest, it rumbles when he laughs.

“Hmmm? I’m definitely fucking your brains out today Y/n,” he promises with a chuckle, kissing your temple again, but emphasising his point when he scissors his fingers reading you for his cock. “If that’s what you mean.”

This was your fault, you knew what you were getting into when you fell for them. You especially knew Namjoon was the worst of them all. You let his soft side brush away his true nature, and while you never forgot his ruthless persona, you put it to the back of your mind. You foolishly thought you had tamed his cunning cold cruel- 

“Oh fuck,” whatever train of thought you had died, the palm of his hand rubbing your clit, stimulating your already aching cunt to the edge. Your parted lips open wider to release a silent scream, his fingers stroking so deep.

You were so close, you could taste it, unable to control the delirious sounds escaping you. So when he stops and slips his fingers away from you, you have to stop yourself screaming in protest. 

“Up against the mirror Y/n,” he commands gruffly, but you don’t move, you were so fucking close. Fuck him, fucking asshole, you were so fucking close. 

He picks you up with ease, pushing you against the wall so your breath fogs the surface. You hear the zip pull down, your forehead falls forward, your core pulsing in anticipation. He grabs your leg, opening you for him, the head of his cock sliding across your folds until you're whining.

“Stop squirming love,” he warns, but you don’t listen, of course you don’t, so he makes you listen. 

The sound you release when he slaps your clit with his hard dick over and over has him questioning his restraint, fuck he wants to just pound into you but you needed to be taught a fucking lesson. 

“Joonie sensitive,” you whine, but he’s relentless, making you cry out over and over. Fuck you could actually maybe cum like this. 

His self control wavers, his jaw clenched with such a force he thinks it’ll shatter. He couldn’t take it anymore, the swell of his head finds your entrance. Inch by inch, he relishes the feeling of your walls hugging him so fucking tight, the pulse of them pulling him in. He leans over you, trying to regain composure but you feel so good he doesn’t want to move, he wants to stay like this forever, inside of you where he belongs. 

You try to push back into him, but he grabs your waist with one hand to keep you still, grinding his hips against you and he knows it’s not enough. 

“Look at you arching your back little love,” he smirks, “Your body knows where you belong, it’s a shame you tried to take it away from me.”

Your hands ball into fists on the mirror, you can’t even look at yourself right now, you can’t stop writhing on the surface, trying so hard to get him to move. You squeeze him hard, making his head fall against you with a grunt. 

“Behave little love,” he warns, “or I’ll show your colleagues just how well you can take me.”

“Make me,” you dare him even though it comes out as a mumble. 

You were dizzy and disorientated and all you wanted was for him to fucking move. He pushes you against the wall hard, every inch of him covering you so you couldn’t budge. You whine, the cold of the hard surface making you seek his warm body, you slot against him like a damn puzzle piece. He was hell bent on torturing you today, as if you hadn’t suffered enough. 

“Joonie move,” you almost sound like a brat, trying to order him around. 

“I’ll move when I’m ready,” he growls animalistically, barely holding himself back, but he needed to savour this.

You do everything you can to break his control, writhing against him like a bitch in heat. He swallows hard when you clench again. He spanks your ass hard in return, the air gets thicker, you find it harder to breathe. You keep still, the sting of your ass satisfying your craving for a moment, but not for long. 

He picks up your skirt, watching himself inside you, watching the beautiful mess you were making. So wet, so perfect, how did you ever think for a second he would ever let this go? The sight is too much, he releases a restrained groan, done with holding himself back. 

His hand grips your cheeks, turning your mouth to his, forcing his tongue down your throat as he finally pulls out only to push back in impossibly deeper. You took every punishing thrust, his presence surrounding you everywhere, even in front of you where his reflection painted the surface. He smothered you with his existence, the heat of him scolding, but you liked it, you craved it. 

“Do you think your ‘friend’ understands who you fucking belong to now detective L/n?” He chuckles deeply watching your fucked out face in the mirror.

He uses his grip under your knee to turn you towards the camera in the corner of the room.

“Think they can all see little love?” He pants. “How well you fucking take it? How good you are for me?”

You shake your head in protest but it feels too good. Your head falls back on him without the mirror to lean against. His fingers find your clit, his sole purpose to make you lose yourself to him. 

“Fuck look at you shaking baby,” he groans, feeling you pulse around him, drawing closer to the edge. “Your poor pussy just needs to come huh?”

You can hear the smirk in his tone, fucking self satisfied prick. 

“Not as badly as you need it,” you taunt back, feeling your defiance flare despite how your body was begging you to behave.. 

“Fuck you might be right,” he groans, going harder, faster. “I’m always going to need it.”

His confession takes you over, the words pushing you so hard you come apart violently, thrashing against him as you unravel, but he holds you tight. He doesn’t let you fall. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, all you could feel was him and the burst of pleasure that carried on wave after wave, and you never wanted it to stop.

“This is mine,” he grunts as he comes undone inside of you, fucking his cum deeper until it got through to your soul. 

He was a part of you, and you could try to deny it now with his mistakes on the table, but he was so embedded in the fabric of you he couldn’t see where he began and where you ended. His entire existence was for you, it was only fair your cunt, body and soul belonged to him. Maybe the others too, as an afterthought, but you were his first.

He feels the mess slide out of you as he leaves your warmth, turning you softly so you could lean against him as you catch your breath. He holds you tight, arn arm around your middle like the steel of a bar. He has every intention of letting you recover but the way you look up at him with those glossy eyes confirms the fact he will never be satiated, he will always want more of you even if there was nothing left to give. 

“Our little love,” he breathes in your face, stealing a hard kiss, “our little downfall.”

His mouth held you prisoner again and again, humming pleasantly as you let him devour you in so many ways. His kiss was bruising, hungry, overindulging.

Your eyes search his as he parts reluctantly, your mind still hazy, the bliss of sex still circulating your body.

“Why did you lie to me?” You whisper breathlessly against his lips as you come down, and he can hear the vulnerability in your tone, it makes a guilt spread across his chest that feels almost alien. The way you could make him ache like no one else, he should cast you aside for introducing a weakness in him but he wouldn’t even dream of it.

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he confesses sincerely. “I didn’t want you to hate me.”

“I asked you not to hurt him,” your eyes tear up again, and he curses himself and the existence of Kim Suho.

“I know.”

“But you did it anyway,” you continue, “and then you had the gall to lie to my face.”

You wipe away the tears that fall harshly, your mind clearing. You push him away and fix yourself up, knowing from the glances in the mirror you were a mess.

“You always own up to your actions, right or wrong, you never hide them,” you laugh and you think you must sound psychotic. “The Kim Namjoon… I remember the days you would drop dead bodies in front of me without remorse, without ever feeling the need to explain yourself.”

“I was testing you then,” he grunts, remembering those days well. “I needed to know you had the stomach to be with us.”

“I hated you so much,” you confess, swallowing down a sob. “And for the first time since I fell in love with you Joonie, I can feel that hate grow again.”

His jaw clenches, his fist too. He could feel a threat on the tip of his lips, one where the Captain's head would end up on a plate in front of you for dinner but he holds himself back.

“You don’t mean that,” he says between gritted teeth.

“I had you fucking arrested Namjoon,” you argue back fiercely. “Don't tell me what I mean or don’t mean.”

“You also fucked me after the fact,” he states and the harsh words slap you hard. You did. You let him defile you here only moments ago.

“Old habits die hard.”

“Not with me love,” he dismisses the thought. “Not as long as I’m alive.”

“We’ll see,” you challenge, feeling that earlier conviction rise. 

“Understand something Y/n,” he says seriously, his face solemn and hard in a way you had witnessed rarely. This was Kim Namjoon with something to lose. “You can run, you can fight, you can hate me if you need to, but there isn’t a life worth living for us without you in it.”

He takes his seat back in the interrogation chair, putting his handcuffs back on with ease, all while keeping his eye contact with you. 

“You want me here, you want to punish me,” he continues, “fine, this where I’ll stay until you’re appeased, until you forgive me.”

“I won’t,” you deny, shaking your head. 

“You will.”

[lustspren]

Thank You for the Venom ft Winter.

length: 11k words✦

Winter & Male Reader

genres: toxic gf¡ Winter, oral sex, hard sex, angry sex, cum denial, creampie, public sex, blowjob, bdsm, facefuck, dirty talk

✦✧✦✧✦✧

'And who was that?'

You heard those words more times a week than you heard 'I love you', but that's how it was with Kim Minjeong as a girlfriend.

You were close to celebrating 3 years of dating, and you were sure that neither you nor she could explain how it was possible that this relationship lasted for so long. In general aspects and facing the public you were the perfect couple, loving, affectionate and attentive to each other, and with a sense of humor shared by both that was more than comfortable. Minjeong had you madly trapped in her sticky web, she was beautiful in absolutely every corner, beautiful face, beautiful body and beautiful gestures that she had with you.

You could say that you were in love with her, but unfortunately, Minjeong had a very dark side that came out quite often, and many times more than you could bear.

Jealousy.

Obviously there were certain limits, like with close family, for example, but Minjeong usually got jealous over the stupidest and most insignificant things you could imagine. The first few times you thought she was joking just to be dramatic, but over time you realized that they weren't jokes, they were real feelings, and very, very intense ones.

Many times you thought about ending that relationship for the mental well-being of both of you, but not a single word about it ever came out of your mouth since she did everything possible, whether directly or indirectly, to keep you under her clutches. She was very detailed with you 90% of the time, very tender and affectionate, she was also very kind to others, not to mention that sex with her was fucking incredible, but she completely transformed when you gave her the slightest reason to feel jealous.

Before you became a couple, you didn't get along that well at all. You met in high school, when you were just a couple of immature brats who made stupid decisions and did stupid things, you really had no reason to dislike each other, but the social pressure of your group of friends (average Canadian kids, lovers of hockey and huge idiots) and her group of friends (not exactly the most popular, but differentially the most unbearable in the entire school) hated each other completely influenced your opinion.

Deep down you knew that she wasn't like the others, you could tell by the discomfort in her expressions and in her voice every time her stupid friends made her say something, but your stupid friends never let you talk to her. You really weren't one of many words, you were only in that group because of the typical teenage need to belong, so you never disagreed with the things they did or said.

Your interest in her didn't let you just forget about it and ignore it, you were quite determined, and when a small window presented itself to catch her while alone you didn't hesitate to take advantage of it. Your conversation that day was fleeting, since it was a small moment in which Minjeong was already on her way home from school, but those five minutes were enough for you to confirm what you had been suspecting for months. She was special.

Special. That word was perfect to describe her, in a good and bad way.

After that day you looked for her more often, taking advantage of the little time you had to talk privately to get to know each other better, and you quickly formed a friendship that no one ever found out about, you and her never exchanged a single word during the clashes that your groups of friends had, and neither of you ever said anything about either group, so it was easy to deduce that you and her had some kind of plot, but you were surrounded by brainless people, so no one ever said anything about it.

Things changed drastically near the end of high school, when you and Minjeong were about to turn 18. You both began to get tired of your respective social groups, and without any explanation, from one moment to the next you broke all contact with those people, no casual conversations, no greetings, no nothing, it was as if you had deleted and moved the cassette back to a point where you didn't know anyone, only each other.

Everything was better from then on, but the real turning point was the day of the final bell, the day on which you were finally going to say goodbye to the school definitively to open a new chapter in your lives. You invited Minjeong to your house that day in the afternoon. The initial plan was to play Scrabble and watch a movie, but the closeness and tensions that you had been carrying for some time led to a completely different night.

It seemed like a difficult situation to improve, but you were brought down from your cloud when Minjeong told you that same midnight that the following day she would go with her mother all summer on vacation to Korea. You were at the beginning of July, and you wouldn't see her until October. It was disappointing for you and your feelings, you were still going to be able to talk to her through text messages or video calls, but nothing was the same that summer. That lonely, empty summer.

At this point you could no longer remember clearly what you did all that time, you had cut off relationships with the boys at your high school, so you really didn't have a single friend to hang out with. You were alone. You had quite scattered memories, like watching Game of Thrones every day of the week without practically seeing sunlight, or reading the entire Wheel of Time saga (dark times), but among all these things there was always something in common, Minjeong was always there to keep you company, despite the huge time difference, she always made an effort to leave you a good morning or good night message.

Despite how screwed up that summer was for you, it passed much faster than you could have expected, and when you least expected it, October was already knocking on your door, and with it came the only person you wanted to see.

You had met Minjeong with long, brown hair and her forehead exposed, to you she already looked beautiful that way, but all your thoughts were revolutionized when you met for the first time after 3 months on that bridge over the Don River in Sunnybrook Park. She had returned from Korea with black hair, a bob haircut, and bangs that made her look like something out of a cyberpunk anime.

The months without physical contact were not noticeable at any time during your meeting. The first thing that came to both of you was sharing a warm hug in the middle of that bridge, with the sound of flowing water and maple leaves being gently blown by the wind. Sun was setting, and seeking to immortalize that moment forever, you and her kissed with the cold autumn breeze hitting your faces and ruffling your hair.

Who knew that that moment would become a memory as bittersweet as the perfect ending of a good movie, a movie in which you were the protagonist and that life put you to the test to develop you.

With Minjeong back in Toronto everything went much better, now you and she were a couple, and you went together to every possible place, everything was perfect, but you were already 18 years old, and that meant only one thing: you had to go to university, and the only one chosen among your options was the University of Toronto. You passed the admission exams together, you for the Faculty of Biomedical Engineering and Minjeong for Economics. You didn't spend as much time together as usual, but nothing changed in your relationship.

Nothing except for her sudden, unbearable fits of jealousy, of course.

Two years had passed since then, you and Minjeong in the middle of your respective degrees and with all the pressure on your heads with every class, every midterm, and every end of the semester. This particular end of the semester was special, as it was the long-awaited winter break. The entire university was in a season of joy (of misfortune for some) since a series of extremely important midterms had been held for each faculty, where you and Minjeong had come out more than successful after weeks of hard work and study, more than 90 points for each.

On the day of delivery of grades there was a meeting between several representatives of various faculties in a common area of the campus, you were present at said meeting, in which the foundations began to be laid for a party to celebrate the end of the semester, Christmas and your grades. You and Minjeong were invited by Karina Yoo, a student at the Faculty of Dentistry, a good friend of yours but not of Minjeong. Future problems.

The place of the party was the house of a guy from medical school, the typical townhouse made of bricks and with a beautifully Victorian style. You two were a little late, but it was all your fault since you didn't know what the hell to wear and you changed your clothes like four times.

"Damn, there are more people than I expected," you said, watching as the house windows showed the rowdy atmosphere inside, with the flashing lights, loud music and people having fun. You had two bags in your hands, both filled with six packs of beer.

"Well, there are more people than you think on campus, babe," Minjeong said, taking one of the bags from your hand to help you as you walked inside. You turned to look at her intently, and she stopped to look back at you, "What?"

"Nothing, it's just that you look beautiful," you said, looking her up and down. Minjeong was dressed in a short white dress, with the Yankees logo and printed with the letter N and Y in navy blue, with tall black leather boots, her short socks have the same print as the dress, and she was wearing white Balenciaga sneakers. She no longer had a bob haircut, now her black hair was slightly longer and reached a few fingers below her shoulders.

"Oh hush!" She said with a shy giggle, putting her hand to her mouth and then continuing walking into the house.

Once inside, the rumbling of the bass and the cacophony of sounds filled your ears, the house was completely full, more than it could surely afford, there was air conditioning, but even so the atmosphere became suffocating due to the large concentration of people. Minjeong began to dance discreetly, to the rhythm of Rush by Troye Sivan, making her way next to you through the narrow hallway that led to a larger room, where the music came from.

There the crowd of people was even more noticeable, everyone was walking from here to there, talking, laughing, drinking and dancing. You saw many familiar faces, some colleagues from your faculty, and many other students that you knew from other faculties through specific meetings. Minjeong also met up with friends, and the two of you spent about five minutes greeting everyone before being left alone again. You didn't know the owner of the house, so you had no idea where to keep the beer, but luckily, your lifeguard appeared in the crowd with a big smile on her face.

"Omg hiiii!" Karina Yoo greeted you with a big smile on her face after making her way between two boys. She had both arms open waiting for a hug, and you gave it to her without hesitation.

"What's up Rina!" you greeted back, giving her a big hug with a smile on your face. You saw Minjeong out of the corner of your eye, and you noticed how her expression had completely changed, she now looked cold and expressionless as she looked at you. You played dumb.

"It's good to see you," she said, pulling away from the hug, "those grades deserve a good celebration," she winked at you, and then turned to Minjeong, who transformed her expression once again to seem as friendly as possible, "Oh hello darling! I'm glad you came too," Karina wasn't close enough to Minjeong to hug her, so she just smiled at her and gave her a small nod.

Minjeong also smiled at her but without showing her teeth, a clear sign for you that she was faking the smile. She didn't say anything either, to act shy. You already smelled the problems.

"Well? Where do we keep these things?" you asked, holding up the bag of beers, "you look great by the way," Karina was wearing a black sports sweater with white sleeves and orange details, loose white pants, and white sneakers. She almost never wore such reserved outfits, she was always showing some skin from time to time, but she was so beautiful that everything looked good on her.

"Thank you handsome," she said with a giggle, "you don't look bad either," she said that, looking at you up and down discreetly, but you were a thousand percent sure that Minjeong had noticed, "Follow me."

Karina nodded for you to follow her and she turned around, walking forward through the crowd. You were trying to pretend that what had just happened hadn't happened, but Minjeong linked her arm with yours tightly, very tightly, clinging to you as if something was going to happen to you, the reality was that, of course, the monster was waking up, You could tell it just by her face.

You followed Karina through some hallways until you reached the elegant and rustic kitchen, close to a living room in which crazy things were happening everywhere, among them, a girl drinking what seemed to be vodka from another's mouth. You weren't one to judge, you just thought it was funny.

"Would you pass me the vodka like that?" Minjeong whispered in your ear with an evil giggle, she had seen the same thing as you.

"Maybe later, it's still too early," you replied, laughing, following Karina behind the island in the middle of the kitchen, where there were dozens of bottles of all kinds, with some buckets full of ice.

"Give me the beers, come on," said Karina, opening the refrigerator. You and Minjeong took the sixpacks out of the bags one by one, and put them little by little into the refrigerator. You were behind her on one side of the bar, while Minjeong was still on the other side of it, with her forearms resting on the counter as she looked at her bottles. Karina had no idea how close you were, so when she closed the refrigerator and took a step back to turn around, she completely collided with you, from her back to her ass, which was pressed against your bulge for a second. You immediately pulled back and laughed to cover up the awkward moment, "Oh god I'm sorry!" she apologized with a giggle, covering her mouth with both hands.

"Don't worry, the dim lights don't help either," you said, turning towards the counter with slightly blushing cheeks. You looked down to hide it, but you knew Minjeong was murdering you with her eyes. Everything was being too unfortunate for you, and you knew you were going to get your ass kicked.

"Anyway, do you want a drink while the beers cool?" Karina asked, giving you small discreet glances from time to time, staying to one side of you but keeping her distance.

"No thanks, I'm fine," Minjeong said immediately, again faking a smile at Karina.

"I do want to, what do we have here?" you asked, looking at the bottles.

"Well, there's vodka, gin, and..." she raised her head to look through the bottles, "Whiskey."

"I want a vodka with... hmmm," you looked through your possible options, "is there Pepsi in the fridge?"

"I think so," she nodded, opening the fridge for a second to take out a can of Pepsi and hand it to you.

You made the drink quickly, a few ice cubes in a typical glass, about three fingers of vodka and the rest of Pepsi. You took a sip, and when you tasted it was perfect you left the Pepsi can next to a bottle. Karina also served vodka, but she did it with cranberry juice and not Pepsi, less killer, of course.

From that moment on everything was quite normal, Minjeong seemed to have calmed down a bit, and was now also contributing to the conversation. You three had a lot of fun, without leaving the kitchen counter for a single moment so you didn't have to get into all the commotion. Karina and your girlfriend seemed to be starting to get along better and better, which made you relieved considering that a few minutes ago Minjeong wanted to smash a bottle over Karina's head, she had even started drinking once the beers were cold, but as expected, everything had to break down at some point.

"Fuck, I need to go to the bathroom, I'm peeing," Minjeong said, setting a can of beer on the counter.

"The bathroom is over there, honey," Karina said, pointing towards a hallway to the left of you, "don't be alarmed if you find someone snorting some weird shit, they're probably from Philosophy faculty," you couldn't help but laugh.

"God forbid," Minjeong rolled her eyes and stood up from the stool, "I'll be right back babe," she blew you a kiss, and walked towards the hallway she had been shown.

"She's so lucky..." Karina said when Minjeong was gone, and she took a sip of her drink.

"Huh? Who?" You asked confused, since you had your attention on a game with the typical red party cups that some boys were making on a coffee table.

"Minjeong," you turned your head to look at her, and she turned her body toward you, "your girlfriend."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's just… she has such a handsome and nice guy for a boyfriend, I certainly envy her," you didn't notice it at first, but she had taken a step forward and was now closer to you.

"Well, I'm lucky to have her too," Karina laughed at that comment.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked with the mocking smile still on her face. You frowned, waiting for what she had to say, "The floor has ears and the walls have eyes. Do you think no one knows about your girlfriend's behavior?"

Your blood ran cold at that moment, until that day you had been thinking that everything had been happening under the table, since Minjeong rarely made a scene in public, and when she did she made sure that no one was around. 

"Uh..." you had no idea what to say, you wanted to defend your girlfriend, but you knew that if anyone else had witnessed her behavior, it would be impossible for you to do so.

"She's a toxic little slut, isn't she?" Karina took a couple more steps forward, and now her face was just inches from yours.

"The pejorative word is unnecessary," you sighed, realizing it was indefensible.

"But I'm not lying... right?" She stared at you, waiting for you to meet her eyes.

"No, you're not lying," you said, avoiding her gaze.

"I don't doubt that you love her, but..." she grabbed your chin with a finger and turned your face towards her, you were met with two beautiful eyes and a sensually half-open mouth, "deep down you would like something better… right?" She took your drink from your hand, took a sip and then left it on the counter, then reached down and grabbed your cock without any hesitation.

"Hey!" You immediately turned away from her and looked in all directions to make sure Minjeong wasn't close, unfortunately your vision wasn't very good and there were too many people, but you didn't seem to see her anywhere, "You can't do that here, you're crazy?!" Karina just burst out laughing.

"Don't worry handsome, I won't try anything else," she assured, taking a step back and returning to her natural position, "I just wanted to make the message clear to you..." she bent slightly on the counter, raised the edge of the sweater to her waist and pulled down her pants enough to reveal her pair of creamy, pretty buttocks, adorned by black lace panties. Your gaze stayed fixed there, and just two or three seconds later she pulled up her pants again.

Neither you nor she said anything else, your cheeks felt hot, and the words had completely escaped your mouth at that flash of flesh before your eyes. Karina continued drinking as if nothing had happened, but you on the other hand weren't able to touch your drink until Minjeong finally made her appearance.

"Babe, can we talk alone for a moment? Something happened," Minjeong said as soon as she arrived, her face seemed relaxed, she even gave a small smile to Karina, but you well knew that didn't mean anything good.

"What happened? Are you okay?" you asked.

"Oh, it's nothing, it'll just be a moment," she assured with a calm expression, "come, now," the passive aggressiveness in her voice made you tense, things weren't right, and you were screwed.

"Go, I'll be waiting for you here," Karina said, looking at you as if nothing had happened.

You didn't say anything else, you just walked around the bar and met Minjeong on the other side of it. She immediately grabbed your wrist with a strong grip and took the lead, pulling you with her towards the same hallway she had entered minutes before.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked since she wasn't saying a single word and that she was looking for something with her eyes.

"Shut up!" she snapped over her shoulder, and continued walking with you until you found a slightly emptier hallway, there you approached a door, "Get away, you moron!" She said to a guy who was leaning against the door, he was a little drunk, so he just walked away confused. Minjeong opened the door, pulling you into the room with her.

"What the hell are we doing here?" you asked, seeing the small bedroom you had entered, it had nothing more than a single bed, a nightstand, a dressing table, and an air conditioner. Minjeong turned to look at you, and her face was pure anger.

"You tell me what the hell we're doing here, you idiot!" she shouted, stepping forward to come face to face with you, "Do you think I'm stupid?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" you shouted back.

"That damn bitch is flirting with you and you won't do shit to stop her!" She gave you a little push.

"She's not flirting with me, chill the fuck down Minjeong!" you screamed.

"You're a fucking liar! I saw absolutely everything!" She grabbed you by the collar of your sweater, pulled you and threw you towards the bed, you fell on your ass, with your hands resting on the mattress. Had she really seen everything? She used to say that kind of thing to justify a sudden attack of jealousy, but this time she seemed to be very serious.

"I told her to stop!" you defended yourself, "I'm not interested in her that way!"

"DAMN LIAR! I SAW HOW YOU LOOKED AT HER!" The music somehow managed to suppress Minjeong's screams, but this time she managed to hear herself louder.

"I wasn't looking at her in any fucking way! You're crazy!" in your head you didn't think that last bit before saying it, prompting Minjeong to stay quiet and take a deep breath before standing in front of you, slapping you hard and pushing you back.

"I'm going to teach you not to look at any other girl like that, you fucking idiot," you watched her with a frown, incredulous at what she had just done. She straddled you, preventing you from sitting up again, and she grabbed the hem of her dress to quickly pull it over her head, leaving her in only a pair of white panties since she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Minjeong, you should fucking calm down, someone might come in," you said, trying to reason with her, as she unbuttoned your jeans and placed her hands on the edge of them and your boxers.

"Shut the fuck up!" She raised her voice again, "I don't give a single shit," her hands worked and pulled your jeans and boxers down to your knees, freeing your semi-hard cock, "you're going to fill my fucking pussy with something that belongs to me,” with that, she spat on her hand.

"Minj- oh fuck..." you let out a deep breath, when Minjeong brought her salivated hand straight to your cock to start slowly stroking, you got hard in a matter of seconds, and she licked two fingers from her free hand to take them inside her panties and start rubbing her pussy between gasps.

"You love to lie... don't you, scumbag?" She asked with her eyes trained on you, one hand moving faster and faster on your cock and the other making circles on her pussy.

"I've never lied to you... and you know it," you managed to say between gasps. The fury in Minjeong's eyes did not calm down, on the contrary, everything you said to her was like fuel on the fire.

"I saw it in your eyes!" she screamed again, gripping your cock a little too hard as she jerked you off at full speed, "you want to fuck that bitch!" That last sentence was combined with a moan, a product of the movements of her fingers in her pussy, visibly becoming wetter. At that point you didn't want to defend yourself anymore, anything you said would only make everything worse, so why not do it properly?

"So what if I want to do it?"

That was it. Minjeong stopped completely, squeezing your cock in her hand so hard you thought she was going to break it in half like a piece of bread; her jaw tensed, and her breathing became heavier. This time you had really angered her.

You really shouldn't have done that, but the reaction you were just expecting made it totally worth it. Minjeong had so much rage on her that she pulled her hand out of her panties and with just one hand, she tore them off her hips with a tug on the garter. She tossed the panties to the side, and placed one foot on the mattress to lift her hips, guide your cock to her soaked pussy, and impale herself on it with a single downward thrust.

"Ugh ffffuck!!" she growled from deep inside her, and you inevitably moaned. She planted her other foot on the mattress, and gave you another hard slap on the other side of your face before starting to move up and down, "this is the only damn pussy this cock can be in, you got me right, motherfucker?" She said through gritted teeth, nails digging into the sides of your torso.

"Minjeong, stop fucking insulting me..." you gasped, a little annoyed at her constant disrespect towards you but incredibly turned on by how she took your cock completely in and out of her tight little wet pussy.

"That's the only thing you deserve, you piece of trash," Minjeong growled before slapping you again, leaning forward and grabbing your neck tightly, moaning inches from your face, "what are you going to do about it, huh?" She began to bounce more intensely on your cock, her ass bumping hard against your pelvis, "Are you going to go fuck that damn whore?"

You were about to blurt out some witty comeback that would further fuel her motor since she was bouncing so deliciously on your cock, but just as you opened your mouth to say something about her she spat directly on your tongue. You stared at her with your jaw clenched, and she looked back at you with defiant, angry eyes. You had many limits, and that was one of them.

"You fucking bitch..." you muttered, clenching your fists, "feeling empowered huh?" She began to jump on your cock even faster, between energetic moans.

"I feel empowered, yeah," she replied with a superb smile, "what are you going to do about it, you damned liar?" Minjeong raised a hand and gave you another quick slap before you could react, your head didn't move an inch, and in one swift movement you grabbed her by the neck and used all the weight of your body to propel yourself up, toss her to the side and position yourself on top of her, imprisoning her with your torso.

"I'm going to teach you not to be a fucking crazy bitch," you growled, taking your cock in your hand and thrusting yourself back into her, eliciting a long moan from her.

"Go ahead and destroy me, you piece of shit," she teased you, giving you a small mischievous smile as she bit her lip, "I bet you don't have the damn balls to do it."

Among all the anger and arousement you were also surprised and confused, you and she had never spoken to each other in that way, so full of hatred and contempt, it was not good at all, and in the face of a relationship like yours it was a clear sign that things weren't going anywhere, but for some reason, you were enjoying it like hell. All the anger and fatigue accumulated by so many scenes she did, so many bad times, and so many attacks of jealousy, everything was coming out of your pores like hot steam.

You didn't respond with words, but with actions. You grabbed Minjeong's legs by the back of her knees, pulled them back against her torso, and then leaned forward to hold them in place with your body, your hands now resting on either side of your aroused girlfriend's body. You immediately began pumping up and down, pinning her against her bed as you hammered her pussy as hard as you could.

"Who the hell do you think you are to treat me like that, huh?!" you growled, squeezing the sheets between your fingers as you looked down at Minjeong, who had her face red with pleasure and her mouth gaped between muffled moans, as with each thrust you knocked the air out of her, "don't you ever dare spit on me again, damn bitch."

Minjeong no longer let a single word come out of her mouth, now rather, with each insult you said to her it was like one more degree of arousing, where each time her moans became more desperate screams and whimpers. She looked into your eyes and opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue in the hope that you would understand the message. You hesitated for a moment, but you gave her the pleasure of spitting directly on her tongue, also staining part of her lips.

You gasped, noticing beads of sweat falling from your forehead onto Minjeong's neck, whose eyes were weak thanks to the constant pumping of your hips. She began to squirm slightly, and her hands went to your hair to pull it hard, a few seconds passed until she reached her first orgasm.

"Oh my g-!" Minjeong moaned before covering her mouth and letting out a muffled scream against it as you continued to fuck her like a tireless machine through her already intense orgasm, "FILL MY DAMN PUSSY, GOD!" she implored with tears running down her cheeks.

Ready to give her the coup de grace, you straightened your back, grabbed her legs by the ankles and threw them to the left side to position your girlfriend's thin body on her side, with her torso slightly turned upward. You bent her legs up, placed one hand on the back of her knees and the other on her soft ass to resume your thrusts, now from a different angle and significantly more sensitive to her.

Minjeong went completely crazy between moans, but in her eyes you could tell that she wanted something more, since she was constantly looking at your hand while you pounded her pussy. You tried giving her a hard spank, which left your hand marked red on her milky skin and made her squeal, but that wasn't what she wanted, you only understood when she brought her hand to her own neck.

"You're a fucking masochistic whore, who knew?" You brought your hand to her neck and squeezed your fingers tightly around it, cutting off her breathing immediately, then she held on to your wrist with both hands while you completely destroyed her pussy.

Minjeong's pussy was so wet that your cock was going in and out of it almost without any friction, and it was a matter of time before you started to feel the blood pumping at full speed to your crotch. You squeezed your girlfriend's neck harder, and in response she dug her nails into your wrist, you grunted in pain, and when Minjeong writhed in anticipation of her second orgasm, you gave her another last thrust before you started shooting all your hot load inside her delicious pussy.

She tried to moan, scream, squirm, but you held her so tightly with both of your hands that she had no choice but to grunt in her throat while her eyeliner was ruined and spilled down her cheeks. Your cock continuously throbbed inside your girlfriend's aching pussy, leaving every little drop of cum inside her to paint her walls. You were breathing irregularly, realizing that it was the best orgasm you had both had in three years of dating. You looked into her eyes, but she didn't look back at you, her gaze was completely lost while her body was still having small spasms.

You slowly pulled your cock out of her pussy, letting all the cum spill onto the sheets of a bed that wasn't even yours and that was going to be stained for who knows how much longer without anyone finding out. You let go of Minjeong's neck and legs, lying behind her with your chest pressed against her back.

"Did you get what you wanted? Fuck..." you mumbled, breathing against her neck.

"I got exactly what I wanted, yeah..." she smiled still breathing heavily, turning her head to look at you, "you really don't want to fuck Karina?"

"Nope," you lied.

"Alright..." she said, snuggling into your chest and completely ignoring the fact that you were still in a house where a party was going on, and that anyone could walk in at any time, "we'll go out there and have a lot of fun,” you sighed, even though you couldn't believe it was the same person.

"Even with her? She's literally the only person we can talk to right now," you snuggled her into your arms, keeping an eye on the shadows under the door.

"As long as you stay by my side all the time and not hers, everything is fine," she responded with a soft and tender voice before settling down to rest.

Your eyes were wide open, thinking about the hard and hateful sex session you had just had, was it just a role play to make it more pleasurable, or was it really what you both felt? She had really made you angry, but you never thought about resorting to insults and hateful words. Was that going to be an isolated case? Or it would become a frequent treatment between the two of you? Time would definitely tell.

—--------------------------------------

Minjeong didn't exactly have expensive tastes, but she always liked to dress well and stand out from the other girls, she managed it quite well, but that translated into long waits in every store in the mall that you always frequented. You had arrived at 2 in the afternoon, and it was already 7 at night. Didn’t surprise you at all, it wasn’t the first time that she had taken forever shopping, but since that experience at the party things had not been completely the same as before between you.

Did things get worse? Yeah. Minjeong no longer had any kind of modesty to do her jealous scenes, and each time they became worse and more stupid, they all ended in insults and you telling her to go to hell, but hours later, everything between you continued as if nothing had happened. Weeks before your relationship was toxic, but now it was like standing next to the Chernobyl elephant's foot.

You couldn't see, smile, touch or talk nice to another girl because that was like turning on her toxic crazy switch, you didn't know why the hell you were still putting up with all that, but it was like trying to get out of Chinese handcuffs, no matter how hard you tried (you never really tried anything), you just stayed stuck.

"Honey, do you think I should buy anything else?" Minjeong asked, walking in front of you through the top floor of the mall, she was wearing a simple outfit that day, a black long sleeve t-shirt and white high pants, "I think I should buy a nice coat..."

"You have like four different coats already," you responded, crammed with bags in both arms.

"And why not have one more?" She looked at you over her shoulder with a mischievous little smile.

"Because you're not the one carrying the bags," you huffed, looking at the rows of stores and wondering what Minjeong's next target would be.

"Don't be whiny, it'll just be one more!" She ran with small jumps to a store adjacent to the two that you had on your left. You sighed.

"Yes honey," you had no choice but to follow her.

At that time of night there weren't usually many people wandering around the mall, much less on a Wednesday when everyone was coming home from work to rest, so the large two-story store was rather empty, you only managed to see three or four people moving between the racks of clothes.

Minjeong didn't take long to get to work, distancing herself a few meters in front of you to completely get lost among absolutely each of the clothes racks, even in the men's sections. You walked far to her, uninterested in catching up with her since it was useless, so it didn't even seem like you were together.

You didn't realize what a big mistake that was since you were extremely physically and mentally exhausted from that day, but you would soon regret it.

"Hello handsome!" said a female voice behind you, and you almost had a heart attack. You turned to see who it was: one of the store's salespeople, loose blonde hair and light blue eyes, the typical Canadian girl, dressed in the store's uniform, "Can I help you with something? I see you're a bit lost."

She smiled at you as radiantly as any generic saleswoman you could find out there, she really wasn't interested in you, she just wanted you to buy something, yet, you treated her with the kindness and respect that she deserved from her. Bad mistake.

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart, I'm fine," you said with a small smile, "In fact I'm with that gi..."

"Are you sure? I can give you a little tour if you like," the saleswoman insisted with a small wink that did nothing but make you uncomfortable.

"No, I'm really fine," you denied again, taking a small step back to walk away. It seemed like she was going to keep insisting until she saw someone behind you.

"Alright sir, if you need anything I'll be over there," she said, still looking at the person you knew was Minjeong behind you before leaving. When she did, you turned to look at your girlfriend and met a pair of eyes that you had already known before.

"Oh no, babe, she just-"

"Sweetheart?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I was trying to reject her nicely, please don't be like that here..." you asked her hopefully.

"Calling her sweetheart?!" Your girlfriend raised her voice a few more tones, and there was no turning back.

“Honey…” you sighed, bringing your hands to your face.

"On top of that, that bitch winks at you and you smile at her!" Minjeong exclaimed, scolding you with her finger on your chest.

"It wasn't exactly in that order..."

"Why do you have to be such a damn liar?!" she whined desperately, and you removed your hands from your face to see her with an expression of not being able to believe it.

"Minjeong, you really are so fucking crazy," you said, but she didn't seem to care, she grabbed your wrist, and just like the day of the party, she started dragging you with her, "Where the fuck are you taking me?"

"Shut the fuck up, someone's going to listen you," she ordered in an aggressive whisper, leading you to the second floor of the store, which was completely alone except for a few workers taking inventory. You already knew where the shots were going.

"Oh no, Minjeong," you tried to intervene, "not here, you're trippin."

"Don't be a fucking pussy," she growled, squeezing your wrist tightly, leading you to a hidden corner of the appliance section, which was completely alone and silent.

“But-” as soon as you stood in the corner Minjeong fell to her knees in front of you, her back turned to a washing machine. She acted quickly, reaching to the edge of your sweatpants and boxers to pull out only your cock and balls. You immediately turned around to make sure no one was around, and before you could look back Minjeong had taken your flaccid cock straight into her mouth, "oh fuck..." you gasped.

She started sucking you hard right from the start, not caring that your cock still wasn't fully erect yet. Her feral, angry eyes were locked on yours, as she used one of her hands to gently massage your balls. Your cock gradually grew larger inside her mouth, until now she was only sucking on half of your completely hardened length.

A pin drop could have been heard perfectly in that moment of sudden silence, in which you could hear in detail each of Minjeong's sucks on your cock and how she used her tongue to drive you completely crazy. You rested your hand on a shelf in front of you, eyes closed as Minjeong took more and more inches of you inside her mouth.

The blowjob that started slow and strong became fast and messy, Minjeong was a girl whose gag reflex was rather modest, a skill that she did not hesitate to take advantage of to make you moan louder than you would have wanted. Almost every inch of your cock was going in and out of her pretty mouth, and you wanted to bring a hand to her face to caress it, but she slapped your wrist to prevent it.

"Don't touch me, god damn liar," she said after taking you out of her mouth for a few seconds, jerking your soaked cock at full speed, "tell me when you're going to cum, I'm tired of sucking you."

You clenched your right fist, a little angry but letting yourself be carried away by the movement of her hand stroking your cock. Minjeong stared at you with a poker face, occasionally going down to your balls to suck on them. Noticing a small squirm on your face, Minjeong stuck her tongue out of her and pressed the tip of your cock against it as she jerked you off fiercely.

"M-Minjeong, I'm going to..." the blood pumped rapidly to your cock, and you felt the tingling in your lower abdomen, but just as the first drop was going to come out, Minjeong removed her hand from your cock and closed her mouth, completely ruining your orgasm, "Huh? NO!" you exclaimed, your cock sore and throbbing, but she didn't care in the slightest, she just got up and walked away.

"You get what you deserve, now move!" She said walking away from you, leaving you with your cock out and a bunch of bags to carry. You clenched your two fists and your jaw, holding on as long as possible to your desire to grab her, lean her against a shelf and fuck her without any mercy, but this time your willpower won.

You put your cock back in your pants and stood there, doing breathing exercises so you wouldn't succumb to the madness. You took a moment to collect yourself, and when your body assumed you wouldn't release that load, you moved to meet Kim Minjeong again.

—--------------------------------------

Sunnybrook Park, the place where it all began for the two of you. Months had passed since that bitter experience in the shopping center, an experience that luckily you did not suffer again during all that time (thank God). Minjeong's attacks of jealousy had subsided by a lot compared to previous months, but to do so you had to literally become a walking grave when it came to interacting with other girls, there were many obvious exceptions, but as a general rule, you couldn't even talk to your lifelong friends because Kim Minjeong put a noose around your neck.

Despite that, you were strangely happy with her, or so you thought, since your perception of reality was completely altered because of the romanticized and cute version you had of your girlfriend, who worked in mysterious ways to keep you tied down. to a relationship that you knew was going from bad to worse.

All the snow was disappearing from the streets of Toronto, thus marking the beginning of a beautiful spring that you were certainly not going to waste. Your first plan was to have a picnic, but due to circumstances that were out of both of your hands, you ended up agreeing to a walk in the park, take some photos and just hang out together.

There you two were, walking along a stone path that crossed a small green area with wooded areas on both sides. Minjeong had her arm linked with yours, staring at the beautiful flower gardens that abounded at that time of year. Your girlfriend looked like something out of a fairy tale that day, wearing a white short-sleeved dress and sandals of the same color; she didn't wear too heavy makeup, making her adorable face shine.

"Honey, do you think there are poppies around here?" she asked, looking into the distance, "I'd like to grab some."

"Mmm, I don't know, it's impossible to know from here," you responded with a shrug, "besides you're not allowed to step into that area during this season."

"What if we ask one of the rangers?" She stopped to look at you with puppy dog eyes.

"Well first we have to find one," you laughed, "I haven't seen a single one since we arrived."

"That's fine with me," she smiled, cupping your face to place a few small kisses on your lips. You wrapped your arms around her body, and pressed her against you to return every kiss she had given you, making her laugh.

"Come on, I'm hungry and I want to try those burgers again," you said, gesturing towards the road.

"Damn, me too, I don't understand how they can't sell in winter," she sighed, and you started walking again.

You followed the stone path for about five more minutes, until you reached a large area, which served as a picnic area, in which several food establishments were concentrated. You were about to take one of the wooden tables to sit down, when suddenly your heart sank. Walking towards your direction came a person that you had not seen for many years, a beautiful and warm girl who was a very important part of your life during your high school years, but who had gone to the United States to study.

But unfortunately Minjeong didn't know.

"Uchinaga Giselle?!" You exclaimed in shock, letting go of your girlfriend's arm to put your hands to your head. Time passed, but she continued dressing exactly the same, short skirt, black sweater, her glasses and of course, her ever-present white backpack, only now she looked twice as pretty.

"Huh?" She took off one of the AirPods she was wearing when she heard her name, and when she saw you she opened her mouth and immediately covered it with her hand in shock, "OH MY GOD HI!" she squealed, heading straight towards you for a hug.

"Oh my god what are you doing here?!" you asked her, wrapping your arms around her body in a tight hug, "I thought you were studying in Boston!"

"And I am, yeah!" She laughed, separating from the hug, "But I had a short vacation period which I didn't hesitate to take advantage of to take a flight here."

"How is Mrs. Uchinaga?" you asked, remembering that her parents were still in Toronto, "I miss the mochis she made every time I came to visit you."

"Oh you know, as overprotective and passionate as ever," she sighed, "she still calls me every day before I go to sleep."

"That's really sweet," you smiled, and then remembered your girlfriend's presence, "Oh! I have someone to introduce you to," you stepped aside so Giselle could see your girlfriend.

"Giselle, this is Minjeong, my girlfriend," you smiled, introducing them, "Honey, this is Giselle, she was my best friend for most of high school."

You hadn't noticed it because of the happiness of the moment, but Minjeong didn't look happy at all. Same old shit, but you hoped this time she could at least tolerate her.

"It's my pleasure darling!" Giselle said with a small bow and a friendly smile.

"The pleasure is mine," Minjeong said with a small fake smile, same story as with Karina a few months ago.

"I think I've seen you before..." Giselle cocked her head as she looked at her, "we went to the same high school, didn't we? You hung out with Cady and her entourage of assholes."

"I'm not proud of it, but yeah," Minjeong agreed with her hands clasped on her belly.

"You always seemed prettier to me than all those bitches," Giselle laughed, "you hit the jackpot, didn't you?" she said to you, raising an eyebrow. You really didn't know what to say.

"God, we're so hungry," you said, quickly changing the topic of conversation, "are you in? We'll order some burgers."

"I would love to, cuties, but no," Giselle denied with a slight pout, "I have to go get ready for dinner with my father, but I'll see you later, okay?"

"Oh, okay," you nodded, "give my regards to Mr. Tetsuya!"

"I'll be happy to," she grabbed your shoulder and gave you a peck on the cheek, "Ask Aaron for my number, I ran into him a few hours ago," she said with a smile, walking away from you.

"Understood, farewell!"

"See you later, sweetie!" Giselle blew Minjeong a kiss with the palm of her hand and said goodbye with it. Minjeong didn't return her goodbye.

When Giselle left you turned to look at Minjeong, you stared at her for a few seconds, raising both eyebrows in anticipation of whatever she had to say. You thought that she would stay silent and that her jealousy would not attack due to the fact that she was a friend that you had not seen in a long time, but her expression did not soften no matter how much you saw her.

"May I know what's wrong with you?" you asked with a kind tone of voice.

"Did you really let that damn bitch kiss you on the cheek?" she said in a low, devilish voice.

"Huh? Wait, you can't be serious," you frowned in confusion, "I haven't seen that girl in 3 years!"

"That slut kissed you on the cheek," she reminded you, as if you should give a shit about that.

"Number one, stop calling her that," you demanded, "and number two, I adore that girl for everything she did for me back in the day, even before you and I met, so please calm the fuck down."

"I don't give a shit, we're getting out of here," she grabbed your wrist and dragged you with her to where you didn't even know. One more damn time.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck!" You exclaimed, walking behind your angry girlfriend, "It's not even a fucking big deal! In a few days she'll be back in Boston and you'll forget about her!"

"And I bet from now on you'll do FaceTimes with her where you both masturbate for each other, right?" Minjeong always said stupid, meaningless, and extremely far-fetched things, but this time she had outdone herself.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" you exclaimed in disbelief, "Oh my god!" She was taking you the same way you came, but she took a small detour, entering the green area and between the trees to reach an area where there was a small slope with stone stairs on it.

"I don't know why I keep putting up with this kind of shit from you, it seems like you don't learn," she said, which struck you as extremely cheeky of her and you couldn't help but laugh.

"This is honestly fucking unbelievable," you said between laughs, "you can't be serious."

"I'm damn serious!" she screamed, and then slapped you. The smile faded from your face, and you stayed quiet for a few seconds with your hand on the cheek where she had slapped you.

"You're going to apologize for what you just did and I'll forget about it," you said, choosing the path of patience.

"I'm not going to apologize for shit!" She kept yelling, even though you were in a quiet place that should be respected, "You apologize for being a fucking liar!" another slap, another deep breath from you.

"Once again... apologize and calm down, Kim Minjeong," you repeated, as political as you could considering how furious you were.

"Or what?" she challenged you, "You're going to go after that bitch and fuck her ass who knows how many times?!" This time it wasn't a slap, but a punch to your chest. It didn't hurt you, but it was enough to break the glass.

"I'M-DAMN-SICK OF YOU!" You growled, expelling all the rage contained within you, to grab her from her arms forcefully and push her against a tree. You brought one hand to her neck, squeezing your fingers tightly around it, and your other hand went to the hem of her dress to lift it up, reveal her white lace panties, and pull them down in a single tug.

Minjeong's expression was nothing but pure rage towards you, but you didn't let her do shit this time, you were in charge now, and you let her know that when you brought your saliva-slicked fingers inside her tight pussy. She moaned in pain as she felt your fingers pushing their way between her unlubricated walls, until only your knuckles were outside her.

Not caring how much it hurt her, you started moving your wrist quickly from the first moment. Your fingers couldn't get in and out completely or easily, but as a few seconds passed, her pussy walls began to get wet, and as a result, your fingers began to slide gradually more easily.

Your left hand was still on Minjeong's neck, pinning her with all your might against the tree and cutting off her breath as you fingered her pussy quickly and mercilessly. You gave her small intervals of time to breathe, in which she let out muffled moans that combined pleasure and pain. Her hands were clamped onto your wrist, her nails digging into it as she pursed her lips and growled low in her throat.

Your fingers and part of your knuckles began to become soaked with a light layer of white secretion, a sign that she was extremely turned on by what you were doing to her and that her pussy was lubricating even more. Knowing this you gave her no quarter, slamming the palm of your hand against her crotch every time your fingers moved in and out of her pussy.

A few long seconds passed until you felt Minjeong's body and pussy tighten around your fingers, you knew she was going to cum, and when she closed her eyes to release her orgasm you stopped dead, letting go of her neck and removing your fingers from inside her.

"OH MY GOD PLEASE NO!" She screeched, grabbing your wrist again to try and guide your fingers back inside her, but you pulled away.

"You get what you deserve, you damn bitch," you pulled her by the collar of her dress and grabbing her shoulders forced her to her knees on the ground.

"You're a fucking bastard!" She yelled at you on her knees, while you unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down along with your boxers.

"Shut up and open your damn mouth, bitch," you ordered, clenching your teeth and then giving her a sharp slap that made her open her mouth immediately, you guided your hard, throbbing cock straight into her and down her throat, testing her gag reflex, which despite being somewhat modest, did not take long to appear due to the great pushing pressure you exerted against her throat.

Minjeong's nose was fixed against your pubes, and your hands were fixed on her head as you smothered her with inches of long, thick meat. Her face was wrinkled, and every time she coughed she let thick drops of thick saliva fall directly onto her thighs. You pulled her hair hard, a handful in each hand, and when you decided she had enough, you just started moving your hips back and forth, fucking her mouth without any mercy and letting even more of her saliva fall from her mouth, which was wide open and with the tongue hanging out.

You had never fucked your girlfriend's face before, so until now you hadn't realized how extremely liberating and pleasurable it was for you, especially considering how fucking angry you were with her.

You moved your hips as fast and hard as you could, taking the entire length of your cock in and out of her mouth. Her nose and chin were constantly bumping against your pubes, which was why Minjeong was letting out some small tears. You would think she was in pain, but every few seconds she would moan out loud, sending vibrations along your shaft.

The seconds passed and little by little you began to reach your peak, you pulled her hair harder, and a few strong thrusts were enough to bury yourself in her throat again, shooting thick strips of cum that made her cough even harder, you didn't even bothered in make it easier for her, you let her choke on her own saliva and your abundant load.

When you released your load you didn't feel the least bit tired, in fact, the rage in you was still as lit and hot as before, and you felt more energetic than ever.

"I'm not done with you yet, you crazy motherfucker," you growled, and then pulled your cock out of her mouth. Minjeong coughed again and again, she had swallowed your entire load, and what little was left of it was spit out along with her saliva as she tried to catch her breath with her hands on the ground.

You grabbed her arm and forced her to stand up, turn around and bend against the tree, she rested her hands against the trunk, and looked at you over her shoulder with a red face and eyes full of tears.

"Is that all you have, you damned liar?" she asked defiantly, laughing at you.

"I didn't tell you to talk, shut the fuck up!" you grabbed her by the hair and pressed the side of her face against the tree (the wood was smooth, so you didn't really hurt her), she obediently kept her face there, and you used your hands to hike her dress up above her waist, revealing her nice, tight ass.

You grabbed both of her butt cheeks and squeezed them hard, before giving each one a hard spank that echoed through the entire forest. Minjeong's ass, white as snow, was marked with an intense red with the shape of your hands, the image of her made you smile evilly, and you decided to give her even more. Spank, after spank, after spank, Minjeong squealed and squirmed, but you didn't stop until both buttocks were as red as a freshly picked tomato.

Once you were satisfied you grabbed your already soaked cock with one hand and her slim waist with the other, normally you teased her a little, rubbing your tip a few times against her slit, but this time you guided your cock straight into her pussy, making your entire length disappear with just one strong push that made her scream.

You brought one hand to her waist and the other to her perfectly bent back, beginning to pump your cock in and out of her pussy hard. You didn't bother covering Minjeong's mouth, you let her moan as loud as she wanted, you didn't give a damn about getting caught, but you knew it would be a huge humiliation for her.

Her body began to shake like a delicate rag doll as your thrusts became stronger and more aggressive, the sounds of flesh against flesh colliding filled the entire forest and echoed among the quiet trees, generating a contrasting sensation for you. You could be perfectly heard from any direction, but you were in a psychotic trance of pure rage and pleasure in which you were thinking of absolutely nothing else other than leaving that girl unable to walk properly.

You brought a hand back to her messy hair, grabbed a handful and pulled it hard back, Minjeong screamed in pleasure, and you activated the last gear you had left, giving her pussy the strongest and most intense thrusts than your body could allow.

"HMMMFFF, FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUCK!!!" Your girlfriend screeched so loudly that she even scared away a few birds that were resting on the branches of that tree, her entire petite body beginning to writhe in spasms as her orgasm hit her. Her knees became weak, so you had to put both arms around her to keep her standing while you didn't stop fucking her for a single second.

You rested her face against the trunk again, this time leaving your hand there and the other on her lower abdomen. One thrust after another, your cock hammered her pussy so hard and so deep that you could feel your own cock make a bulge in her abdomen with each pump. You let go of her head, and filled her ass with spanks again to cause a second orgasm in her.

This time her spasms were so strong that you had no choice but to go to the ground with her, but you made sure to do it in the most humiliating and uncomfortable way for her, putting her on her hands and knees against the dirt, she was not going to dirty her face for nothing in the world, so she leaned on her own forearms while you knelt behind her ass and went back inside her pussy.

You grabbed onto her tight ass, already extremely red and sore, and squeezed it with all your might as you continued fucking her like a raging bull. You leaned forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her head back to bend her back even more. Minjeong no longer had the strength to continue moaning, so the only thing that came out of her mouth was exhausted and extremely desperate gasps.

You continued pounding her pussy for a few long seconds, until you felt a tingling in your lower abdomen. Your cock began to throb harder, and between intense grunts you began to give her the last thrusts, more intense, and more inhuman.

"GGGAAAAAHHHH!!" You grunted, and with one last push you began to spill your balls inside her tight pussy, you moaned loudly over and over again, as your cock throbbed between her extremely wet walls. This load was even bigger than the previous one, you could tell by how your cum spilled out of the sides of her pussy and left your cock completely stained white.

You took a deep breath, moving much slower as Minjeong still suffered from small spasms from her previous orgasm. You slowly pulled out of her pussy, letting all your cum spill from her slit into the dirt, where a wide pool of thick white liquid formed. You stood up, breathing heavily as you leaned against the tree.

You stared at Minjeong for a few minutes, during which she slowly recovered until she pulled up her panties and sat up, not caring how much her white dress got dirty. She looked back at you, too weak to speak.

A lot of thoughts went through your head at that moment, you looked into her eyes and only saw the girl you fell in love with a few years ago. You really loved the good side of her, but everything had gone too far, and for the first time, you managed to get your heart and your brain into perfect synchronization.

"We... we are over, Kim Minjeong, over," you said, still breathing heavily, pulling up your boxers and pants.

"H-Huh? No!" she screamed, tears forming in her eyes, "NO!"

"I said we are over," you repeated, completely sure of your words, and willing to leave her there alone as you slowly walked away from her.

"You can't do this to me!" she squealed through tears, "I love you!"

"And I love you, but you're worryingly crazy," you turned your back on her, "look for a psychologist, or a psychiatrist, anything will help, and when you stop being the way you are, we'll talk."

"Please don't go, don't leave me here alone!" her sobs and pleas to a certain extent softened your heart and made you want to go back, but the rational part of you knew that would send you back into a loop you weren't interested in returning to.

"Goodbye, Kim Minjeong."

—--------------------------------------

Spren Notes:

Now, that was some intense shit right? lol

[penny-anna]

you do not have to like fanfiction. if you think fanfiction is cringy & annoying you can just Say That. but any attempt to argue that fanfiction is inherently inferior to other types of writing falls apart under scrutiny.

'most fanfiction is badly written' sturgeon's law is an adage that states '90% of everything is crap'. this was first coined in defence of science fiction, a genre often maligned as inherently inferior to 'real literature' (sound familiar??)

'oh but most fanfiction is worse than published fiction' yes; this is because pro published books go through a heavy selection and editorial process before the public see them. when it comes to quality of writing you are not comparing like to like. the appropriate 1:1 comparison would be fanfiction & amateur original fiction.

i have hung out in multiple online writing spaces & in 'anyone welcome' RL writing groups and can say with reasonable confidence that most original fiction getting produced is just plain mediocre. there's so so much bad original fiction being produced every day. u just never see it.

'you have to wade through so much garbage to find anything worth reading' you ever hear like. a fiction magazine editor describe what their slush pile experience is like??

'ok but fanfiction is bad because it lacks originality, it's better to come up with your own story & ideas' nobody actually thinks this!! people trot this out about fanfiction but like pro published literature is full of retellings of public domain stories and no-one ever argues that they're inherently worse or less creative than works with original plots.

the dividing line between fanfiction & 'original' fiction generally isn't actually originality, it's whether or not it's transformative of a text that's currently under copyright. & i would hope it's self-evident that the copyright status of the text a work is transforming shouldn't have any bearing on its literary merit. why on earth would it??

'but most fanfiction is trope-y and formulaic' yes this is true and yes i do think there's an argument to be made that a work of fiction that's interchangeable with thousands of other works of fiction is lacking in 'literary merit'.

however this is also true of a lot of pro published literature. whole swathes of genres like eg crime & romance exist to give readers the same experience over and over again. are these books bad? maybe! does their existence mean the entire genre they belong to should be written off? obviously no.

'but fanfiction is all about shipping' yeah a lot of fanfiction belongs to the romance & erotica genres. you do not have to like this. but disparagement of romance as a genre has its roots in the fact that it's mainly written & enjoyed by women. its just sexism lads. :(

'fanfiction encourages bad habits in writers' there's some merit to this argument IMO (that's a different rant) but see above re:90% of everything is crap; the presence of bad writing in a genre doesn't mean that the whole genre should be written off.

'what so you think fanfiction is as good as *insert classic novel here*' nobody is saying this; if you see someone arguing that fanfiction is real writing and jump to 'this person thinks MCU coffee shop AUs are culturally significant works of literature', to be blunt, that is a you problem.

'fanfiction just isn't real literature' ok so fiction divides into 'real literature' and 'not real literature'. got it.

[ID: screencap of a tumblr post by user theislandofmisfittoys:

Okay… nice dichotomy, IDIOT ‼ what lies  outside it???]

(OP)

[watchmegetobsessed]

“Who’s is it”

JUST HANDS

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry, your college best friend has offered to help you move, but neither of you expected him to find your dildo in the midst of packing. And you especially not expected what came afterwards.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You know you’re fucked the moment you see Harry grab the blue shoebox from under the bed, but it doesn’t process until he opens the lid and pulls out your trusty purple dildo.

This was not on your bingo card. Your best friend holding your beloved cock replacement that has gotten you through so many droughts and heartbreaks when you couldn’t even bear to look at a man.

Now that dildo is being held up by Harry and you feel like you’re about to scream and burn the apartment down. 

“Um, whose is it?” Harry manages to ask, his cheeks turning cherry red, but he is still holding up the fucking dildo.

Once your muscles are over the shock and you finally force yourself to move you step to him over the plenty of boxes and bags on the floor and grab the dildo from him before shoving it into one of the bags.

“Who do you think it belongs to, idiot?” you snap, the heat that’s crawling up your neck is dizzying. “We’re packing up my bedroom, whose fucking dildo would it be?”

Harry clears his throat and just stands there for a couple of moments while you busy yourself with emptying the dresser. But maybe it wasn’t the best idea, because now Harry is watching you throw your thongs and all kinds of underwear into a bag, making it even more awkward.

This is not how you imagine this afternoon when you asked Harry to help you pack up your room. You’ve been living here for the past two years, sharing the apartment with two other girls, but you finally found a nice studio apartment for your senior year of college, so you’re moving now. Harry has been a huge help so far, but right now you wish you never asked him to come over.

Minutes pass by and he is still just standing there, staring at you and it’s now pissing you off.

“What?” you snap with a sigh as you finally dare to look up.

You’ve known Harry since the first day of college. He spilled his green juice on your right before your first ever lecture and then switched shirts with you just so you could make a good impression on the professor. So you sat in an oversized, simple black shirt while Harry sported a sheer white blouse with a big green stain on it, ignoring every curious eyes that turned to him.

You’ve been best friends since then, but you’ve never seen him look at you the way he is looking at you right now. Pupils dilated, the friendly green of his irises has disappeared, his pink lips are parted and there’s something new in his posture as well, but you just can’t put your finger on it.

And it’s making you sweat.

“Uh, n-nothing,” he shakes his head, breaking the eye contact at last. “It’s nothing.”

“Then let’s just move on, alright?”

He only hums as he grabs a box from the floor and gets back to work. But it’s not the same. You can feel the tension as you silently pack next to each other and you catch Harry staring at either you or the bag you shoved the dildo into. When some time has passed and you’ve passed by the embarrassment you finally work up the courage to address the situation, hoping to ease the suffocating tension.

“Um, sorry about… the… I forgot about it and didn’t think you’d find it.”

Harry looks up at you from the pile of shoes he’s been placing in a box, he looks like a deer caught in the headlights for a brief second before a smirk tugs on his lips.

“Forgot about it? So you haven’t used it lately?”

“That’s not… that’s not what I mean. I did use it recently–” 

Did you really just admit to masturbating to him? With your purple dildo? For fuck’s sake, this is getting worse by the minute.

“I-I mean, uhh–”

“I know what you meant,” he chuckles, looking down at the shoes as he shakes his head, but you notice his ears have turned red. “It’s just… never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing, let’s just move on.”

“No, tell me! I wanna know what you wanted to say.”

Sighing he drops the pair of tennis shoes from his hands and looks up at you.

“I just never thought you’re the kind to use… help, like toys.”

You blink at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your thoughts are racing a million miles per second, trying to process his words. He never thought you were the kind to use toys? You’re not ballsy or freaky enough to use a dildo? Does he think you’re too prude for sex toys? And most importantly, has he actually been thinking about your ways of masturbating?

Harry shrugs as he stands, hands on his hips. 

“It’s just that I always thought you either get a hook up or just use your hands.”

“Why? You think I’m too prude to use toys?”

“That’s not what I said,” he chuckles, but you’re not done pouring questions at him.

“And do you often ponder about how I usually masturbate? Because you seem to be having a very strong opinion about the topic.”

“What?” Now his face has gone blank and you can sense his discomfort.

“Just so you know, I very much love to use that dildo and I’m also a fan of rabbit vibrators, I used to have one, but I dropped it and it broke and haven’t gotten a new one.”

Harry’s eyebrows rise and you swallow hard as you realize just how much you gave away about your private life. Neither of you speaks and then you both just sort of go back to packing without acknowledging the things said, but you can’t stop thinking about it.

This might not feel like this big of a deal if you haven’t been crazily into Harry these past months. You have no idea when your feelings shifted from friendly to “I want him to fuck me in the school cafeteria”, but it’s been messing with your head. Your dirty dreams about him don’t help your case either. 

Just as you recite his words probably for the millionth time he breaks the silence.

“I do, by the way.”

“Huh?” you ask with a dumb frown.

“I do think about how you pleasure yourself. Pretty often. Mostly when I’m wanking.”

Your mouth drops open and whatever was in your hand now drops to the floor as you stare back at him. He is holding your gaze smugly, as if he is challenging you to react and make the next move.

The ball is in your court.

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you’re trying to wrap your head around where this conversation has gotten to and you make a decision within a second.

“Do you want to actually watch me touch myself?”

The words sound distant, but you know you said them. And you watch Harry’s eyes turn darker than ever as he slowly nods.

“Yeah.”

Your desires take over your actions, rationality has been thrown out the window as you walk over to him and take his hand, pulling him over to the dresser that’s facing the bed. 

“Stand here,” you tell him as you position him against the dresser and then you climb onto your bed, making yourself comfortable in the middle, opening your legs so Harry has an excellent view of the way you run your hand over yourself, only your tiny cotton shorts covering your pussy from his greedy eyes.

“I could use the dildo, or just my hands. What do you want, Harry?” you question, while you keep rubbing yourself over the fabric of your shorts and there’s probably a wet stain already showing through it.

“Hands,” he answers eagerly. “Just hands.”

Lifting your hips you push down your shorts and underwear, over your knees and then kick them to the side before opening your legs again, this time exposing your naked cunt in front of Harry.

When you hear a shaky moan from him you lick two of your fingers before reaching down and keeping eye contact with him you start circling them on your clit the way you like it.

“You like it?” You ask, words turning into a moan when you hit the right spot.

“Yes,” he breathes out and as your gaze drops to his crotch you notice just how much he is enjoying the show. The outline of his cock is teasing you from across the room and though part of you wants him to fuck you until you forget your own name, you’re also enjoying this little game you’re playing and you want to finish it.

“What else do you want me to do, Harry?”

This time he needs a few seconds before he can answer.

“Finger yourself.”

“Want to see my fingers fucking my pussy?”

“Yes,” he nods eagerly and you see his hand twitching, but he doesn’t touch himself, instead, he looks you in the eyes and asks: “Can I touch myself too?”

Fuck, you love this obedient side of him, love that you feel in charge of him.

“Yes. I wanna see you play with yourself while I fuck myself.”

Harry groans as he rushes to undo the button and zipper of his pants and tug them down halfway on his thighs, just enough to let his hard cock finally spring free. Your mouth waters and you whimper as you push two fingers inside you, pretending like it’s his cock that’s filling you up, though you know it will be a whole different feeling when his dick finally pushes into you.

Leaning against the dresser he is jerking himself off while watching you edge yourself closer to your orgasm. Curling your fingers, pushing, pressing and pinching, you already know you won’t last much longer, not when you’re staring at Harry’s throbbing cock.

“Are you close?” you ask, gasping for air, your back arching from the mattress.

“Yes, fuck, I’m gonna come,” he hisses, his eyes glued to you. 

“Come with me, Harry!” you whine and he nods, his hand going even faster now.

You stare at each other the moment you both reach your climax. Your legs are shaking and you can’t quiet yourself while you watch Harry’s cum squirt onto the floor in waves, he gasps for air and calls out your name like a plea.

Minutes pass by and the two of you remain in your own respective spots, trying to catch your breath and return to reality. When it finally happens you sit up and you’re met with Harry’s eyes already resting on you. For a moment you have no idea what’s gonna happen, but then you both suddenly start to laugh. 

“That was… unexpected,” he admits, lazily pulling his pants back up as you scoot to the edge of the mattress. Harry walks over to you and helps you up from the bed. Now you’re looking at each other from up close.

“But did you enjoy it?” you ask with a sheepish smile.

“The proof that I enjoyed it is on the floor now,” he chuckles and it makes you laugh as well.

“Maybe… next time we could be closer to each other. Even touch each other,” you muse.

Harry smirks as he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger before running his thumb across your lower lip.

“I would love that.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

ACITHYCS.

“a crack in the heart you call stone” (john wick/fem reader)

Running away from John Wick is never a good idea. TW: nsfw, noncon, dead dove, abuse, violence, power dynamics except the reader doesn’t have any power, smacking, spanking, choking, rough, awful shit. Your assassin sweetheart is not sweet in this. He’s fucked in the head, but I mean it is your fault.

It was a really, really, really.

Really. 

Bad fucking idea. 

Bad fucking idea to turn cottontail and run away in the night. 

Run from him.

But you did, didn’t you? Maybe because you didn’t realize what a stupid decision you were making, maybe because you were too scared to stay, maybe because you didn’t know what else to do. 

Maybe because running away from monsters is the standard of sane and you needed to prove that you were not crazy. 

“That’s bullshit,” you know he’d say, “your decisions are your own and you will deal with their consequences.”

And, oh fuck, you haven’t heard his voice in so long - that sweet honey heroin aphrodisiac infused growl - but somehow little drops of it still sit sticky inside your ears. 

Your cotton panties feel uncomfortable and clingy, and you have to squirm several times in your seat to pull fabric from damp folds. 

That’s the worst part, the one that makes you want to put a 9 mm barrel in your mouth because surely - guaranteed - you’re sick in the head for almost - ha, who are you kidding - for definitely - wanting him to find you. 

Insane after all, even through the trouble to prove otherwise. 

You shouldn’t get out of the cab, you shouldn’t walk upstairs to your apartment, you shouldn’t open the already unlocked door, you shouldn’t start curling your toes and burning when you see him casually sitting at your dining table, drinking a cold beer and eating leftover pizza. Like he just belongs here, in the life you picked specifically void of him.

He ignores you, favoring the newspaper clutched in his fist, munching and relaxing and as handsome as any husband should strive to be.

You take the chair opposite from him and press your thighs together in anticipation of that involuntary, awful clench of your cunt when his broody eyes meet yours. You try to rest your hands on the table, but pull them back into your lap when you notice they are visibly shaking. 

“John.” You’re surprised you can talk through the saliva filling your mouth. 

“Hello, honey,” he says, then kicks the table out of the way and muffles your scream with the loud crash into the kitchen counter. No barrier between the two of you now - really, you’re a fucking idiot to think anything could keep this beautiful, horrifying human wrecking ball away from you - and he fists the loose fabric dress over your tummy and tugs you forward. 

“You know what happens now?” He asks, terrifying you with a smile. 

You blink owlishly up at him, tears globbing on your bottom lashes, body shaking violently, and ask: “wh-what?” 

Instead of answering, he grabs your throat, takes you off your feet and slams you - not gently - against the wall. Picture frames smash to the ground, scatter glass over the linoleum. One minute you’re breathing, and the next you’re wondering what delicious air even tastes like.

You claw at his hands, face swelling up and turning a shade of beautiful blue that grabs his cocks attention - the length of him fattens up against your tummy and he grinds into your soft, plump skin, hard and unforgiving. 

There’s black hellfire in his eyes, a dark promise to make you sorry for your miserable little John-free existence, and, for a second, you resign to the notion that he is going to keep his iron grip around your suffocating throat until you pass out. Your vision is already blurring and darkening, claws scratching pitifully at his arms. A little woodland creature in a big bear trap. 

But, he lets you go, dropping you right on the hard floor, and you land on your ass, gasping for air, face soaked from tears, dress ripped down the middle. He jams his pointy shoe in between your legs, pressing the tip into your cunt, hurting you. 

“John, please,” you whimper through grit teeth, trying to push his leg away and only getting a big black dress shoe crushing your pussy as reward. 

Your head flips back, neck craning just enough to put agonizing tension on your scalp and spine. His fist nets what feels like every tearing hair on your head, and you can’t help but screech in pain. 

“Please,” he repeats, voice eerily calm even as he’s shoving his fingers down your throat and making you choke. He pulls out and leaves thick white spit dripping onto your pouty lips and chin. He smears the excess on your cheek and smiles down at you - almost lovingly - “you’re begging already? Fucking pathetic.” His foot digs deeper into you and you let out a cry, proving his point. You are pathetic. 

“Oh, I missed this tight little cunt,” he sighs and closes his eyes as if talking to himself. “Thought about her every fucking day.” 

“John, I’m sorry, I-“ 

“Shut up.” He slaps you on the cheek, hard enough to leave a big red welt, then lugs you up by your hair. He doesn’t bother to move his leg, so your bare skin scrapes raw on the rough fabric of his pants. “The only thing that’s gonna come out of that pretty mouth from now on is ‘yes, John.’”

He spins you around, manhandles you onto the counter, presses his cock into the cotton of your panties and slaps your ass harder than he had done to your face. He watches your plump jiggle and retract, wets his lips, grunts. “Did you hear me, babydoll?” He slaps the same spot, and you yelp and claw at the counter. 

“Yes, John.” The phone is right beside your head, you see the screen light up with worried texts from your friends, asking if you’re home yet. You could try and pick it up, call someone, dial 911, but this is John, and you know there’s not a chance in hell you could touch that phone without him crushing it in one grip. 

“Oh?” He sees where your eyes are, of course he does. He’s a fucking lethal predator, and you’re just a stupid girl. “You wanna call somebody to come save you? Do it. Call them. But you’re gonna watch attentively while I kill them all, I can promise you that, honey.”

Fat wet tears run down your cheeks and puddle on the counter. You can’t help but feel partially responsible for the crazed, lightless black fire in his eyes. The way he’s completely gone and fucked in the head. No, not partially. This is all your fault. You drove him to madness, left him with a broken heart that turned black and rotten over time, and now you’re gonna deal with the repercussions. 

He grinds up against your cunt and ass, so smashed in that you feel his plump cock head chafing your clit. He tugs on your hair to bring your face off the counter. “My little cry baby’s gonna be sobbing a lot more often, now.” He tsks as if disappointed. 

He slaps your ass for a good bit, alternating each cheek, using the tips of his fingers to make the sting unbearable. You almost move your hands to cover the raw red skin, but he tugs your head back harshly in warning. 

You whimper and put your hands back on the cool counter, wishing it was your ass instead - the tissue is on fire, a new level of burning every time his hand meets your flesh. 

His palm is worse than his fingertips. It’s a throbbing pain that shoots over your back, legs, and tummy, and he gets you screaming with a big, ruthless swing. Screaming and crying and kicking your feet and biting your lip hard enough to taste pennies. 

Sharp slaps on your plump little cunt turn you into a sobbing, begging wreck of a human. Then, he pulls your panties to the side and pinches your burning labia, tugging and stretching, making it snap and swell. 

“She missed my cock, huh? How many times did you try and fail to fill her up?” 

He unzips himself and pushes his pants and boxers down, then jams his massive cock into your unprepared hole and you wail into the counter. 

“How could you fucking do this to this to her?” he laments with a snarl, thrusting into you with shattering, slow slams. 

You try and nudge yourself onto the counter to get his raging tip away from your cervix, but he pulls you farther down on him instead and starts taking what he wants, hard and unforgiving, hair fisted in his hand so that your back arches for his cock to pound deeper into you.

“John. Please. I can- can’t. Fuck. Too much. It hurts.”

He smacks your ass with palm again, only this time latching to your skin, fisting a pound of flesh and fat. That familiar flop flop flop of your body accommodating his intrusion tells you that you’re soaking his dick and making it easier for him to fuck you harder. Traitorous fucking whore. 

“What did I say?” He asks you, that poised voice cracking into growls and grunts and groans, slick with impending orgasm. 

You don’t answer soon enough, and he digs further into your ass with blunt nails. You feel like he’s going to rip the meat right off your body. 

“Yes, John.” But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t let up. He gets meaner, lifting your feet up off the ground and your head impossibly higher in the air, making so the only thing holding you up is his brutal cock. You feel fucking impaled. 

You’re helpless, trapped, humiliated, and all you can do is take the rough slap of his pelvis against your abused skin. When he reaches down and pushes his fingers into your swollen lips to find your clit, you can’t help but hate yourself for enjoying this - this consuming fire spreading, overtaking, the choice to orgasm from this brutality ripped away from you as he rubs and fucks you toward blinding, white hot release. 

He leans over you, puts one foot on the counter beside your ass to give him an impossibly deeper angle that reads like his cock is in your womb. 

With all senses overwhelmed by excruciating pleasure - an impending orgasm that’s going that’s going to wreck you - the only thing you can really do is cry and take it until he decides to baste your burning cervix in cum. 

It’s immediately spurting from you, coating your thighs, his legs, dripping pearly rivulets onto the floor. He replaces his dick with two fingers, wrenching away any hope of release, gathers some fluid and brings it up to the only unstained place - your asshole. He costs the outer tissue, pushes two fingers in and curls them down, rubs at your delicate insides harshly. 

“Think you can handle my cock in your ass, Mrs. Wick?” He leaves two fingers inside your anus and pushes his thumb into your snapping, gaping, runny cunt. You push back onto his finger, trying to fuck the almost orgasm free from your aching hole. 

John snorts as if to laugh at this whorish attempt. 

“Tell you what, I’ll give you two choices: I shove my dick into your ass and fuck it as hard as I want til’ I cum again. Or. I spend a few hours prepping you to take my cock. What do you think?”

“Need a break,” you mumble, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks in shiny rivulets. 

He smacks your thigh. “That wasn’t an option, honey.”

“Okay… okay.” Your frantic, hissing tone makes him smile for the first time in a long while… For the first time since you ran away from him and left a sobbing, drunk, blood hungry mess of a man on the kitchen floor; surrounded by glass and blood and splintered wood, screaming, smashing everything in the house to tiny pieces. You don’t know how many people have died terrible deaths for the absence of this spongey, tight, beautiful pussy - Christ, he even dabbled in torture just to see if it would get him off like you could. 

But he’s going to spend the rest of your life reminding you - reminding you that if you ever fucking leave again he’ll kill everyone until you have no one left but him. 

“Ten seconds and then I’m picking for you,” he murmurs, kissing behind your ear. 

He has to press his weight into your hips to keep them from rocking down onto his fingers - the ones he’s got shoved up to the hilt of his hand inside you, teasing your front wall with languid little rubs. 

The resigned, pathetic defeat in your tone warms his heart. “Second option.”

“Which one was that again?” 

“Prep me.” 

He nips your cartilage with his teeth, wrenching a little beaten whine from deep in your throat, the loss of his bully fingers making you clench and spasm and writhe. 

He picks you up, cradles you to his warm heartbeat, kisses your head. You can’t help it, you fold into his embrace, cling to the John you once knew, hands clutching at the lapels of his suit in some desperate attempt to find comfort. 

“I’m sorry, John.” You choke on whimpers, smothering your tears into his collar. 

“Oh, babydoll,” he coos, smoothing your sore scalp. “No you’re not. But you will be.” 

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Fall for Me | One Shot

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge

Rating: Explicit NSFW18+

Chapter Count: One Shot | Read on AO3 Word Count: 8,048

Title: Fall for Me - Sleep Token

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 during Act 2. Explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge as Astarion realizes there's a depth to his feelings that he's been trying to deny. Tags: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Mentions of Violence, Soft Astarion, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character.

Author Note: Well…this got a bit out of hand. It started as me wanting to write about the moment Astarion realizes he's in deeper than he thought with this relationship, then morphed into me wanting to explore his headspace while being intimate, and then just devolved into absolute filth. I have no excuses. This fic precedes another of my fics called "Faint of Heart," which can be found on my account.

Astarion woke to a cold and suffocating darkness. A scent of wet decay hung in the air, eerily familiar, and all around him the silence screamed.

The night was distinctly void of the mundane sounds that had become commonplace during their journey. Even as they trekked through the Shadowlands towards Moonrise Towers, their nights usually bristled with distant howls and the whispers of skeletal trees as their limbs tangled and clacked in the wind. Now, however, there was nothing but a heavy and stifling quiet that set his nerves on edge. An anxious sense of wrongness stirred in his gut as he tried to get his bearings.

Where was he? Last he remembered, their group bedded down on the outskirts of an abandoned town called Reithwin. They intended to explore the decrepit buildings and shadowed ruins the next day as they pushed towards Moonrise.

Astarion sat up and blinked into the clawing darkness, squinting as if that would somehow bring the world around him into focus. Even with his darkvision, nothing manifested except the ever-expanding gloom all around him.

He ran a hand across the damp floor and shivered against the deep chill that engulfed him. He cast about for his belongings but found none, only a cracked tile floor slick with mildew and grime.  

He heard a metallic clatter in the darkness as he shifted around and suddenly tuned in to a weight around his right ankle. An icy dread began to rise in his throat like bile as he hesitantly reached out and touched the shackle, fastened tight.

No…

Panic shot through his heart like a stake and his mouth went dry. He realized with a vile shock why he recognized the scent of old rot which saturated the air. It was the smell of stale rat blood mixed with years of filth and dirt.

He was back in the kennels. Back in Cazador’s grasp.

The realization nearly made him vomit as terror and confusion twisted in his stomach. Astarion hadn’t needed to breathe in over 200 years, and yet that didn’t stop his chest from tightening nor his lungs from seizing. Panic swept through him. He tried to gulp down air as a constricted and choking feeling pressed over him. Eyes wild, Astarion desperately tried to catch sight of something…anything in the relentless gloom.

How? Why? What in the hells had happened?

His mind wheeled, fueled by a horrifying sense of upheaval. He didn’t recall being attacked, but that didn’t change the situation he now found himself in.

He had to get out. He couldn’t be here. This couldn’t happen. This wasn’t right.

Except…it was. Because this was how his life had always been. He’d never escape. Never be free. Cazador would always find a way to drag him back. His master would never let go. He would always find Astarion, no matter how far he ran.

Thou shalt know that thou art mine.

Cazador’s fourth rule burned in Astarion’s mind, haunting and vicious. He stifled a sob, swallowing it back down and gritting his teeth until his jaw ached. He needed to figure out what had happened, because if he was here then…

Eli…

His stomach lurched as a fresh wave of dread nearly choked him. Where was Eli? If Cazador had been able to seize Astarion, had he taken her, as well? Guilt flooded his mind as it raced, trying to piece together some sequence of events that made sense. None of it seemed logical, but he was too panicked to dwell on the irrational nature of it all.

If Cazador had Eli…

But Cazador didn’t know, he couldn’t know…how Astarion felt about her. Hells, Astarion didn’t even understand his own emotions when it came to Eli. She was…something to him. More than nothing, so much more than nothing.

If Cazador had her…if he turned her…hurt her… Gods, what had Astarion done? He’d put a target on her, and of course Cazador would find her and take her. Because that was what he did. He destroyed anything that brought Astarion even a moment of happiness. How could he have been so stupid?

“Eli?” Astarion called quietly into the darkness, unable to mask the distress that clawed at his throat.

The voice that answered struck him numb with fear.

“Foolish boy. How easy it was to deceive your weak mind.” The cruel mockery in Cazador’s voice caused Astarion to flinch as if he’d been hit.

“What did you do with her?” Astarion hissed through bared teeth, dreading the answer.

“Nothing. Because she is nothing.” Cazador’s voice reverberated in the darkness as if he were everywhere at once.

Astarion didn’t understand whatever game his master was playing, and so he remained silent; shivering, though not as much from the cold as the trepidation.

“You’ve always possessed such a feeble mind, so easy to bend and break,” the voice bit from the shadows. “Did you honestly believe you’d escaped? That you’d been abducted? I planted such an absurd fantasy in your head that I had my doubts as to whether you would believe it. But your incompetence never ceases to entertain.” 

Astarion’s eyes went wide and he froze like a prey animal that had only just sensed a trap. A slow, creeping horror slithered up his spine at the thought of what Cazador was insinuating.      

“None of it was real, you pathetic little wretch. You’ve been here, the whole time, trapped in an illusion of my design.”

Astarion was going to be sick.

“I thought it was time to pull back the curtain, before you got too attached. To remind you that you are mine, and that will never change. Because who would want something as miserable as you?”

He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to breathe, and yet he couldn’t. His throat burned with bile that came up from his churning stomach. Hot tears seared the corners of his eyes and his brain felt as if it were on fire.

It hadn’t been real… None of it… He’d never be free…

You are mine. 

_______________________________

Astarion gasped awake, as if he were a man drowning who’d finally come up for air.

His chest heaved as sweat cooled against his skin in the night air. He rolled onto his side, coughing as the memory of vomit receded. He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and wiped at the ones that had already trailed down his face.

Sitting up, Astarion shivered as the nightmare withdrew, glancing around his darkened tent anxiously as the ghost of Cazador loomed in his mind. He was alone, and though night in the Shadowlands was grim, it was not nearly as oppressive as the darkness in his dream.

A feeble hazy moonlight leaked through the murky tree canopy outside, casting a dim sheen through the pitch of night. Shadows bobbed and weaved on the walls of his tent, cast by drooping and swaying trees. The snarl of an animal sounded somewhere far off in the distance, and Astarion sighed as he tried to settle himself.

His nightmares were dipping into parts of himself he’d rather not acknowledge, preying on fears he wasn’t ready to face. He frowned, stomach knotting as residual feelings of fear and loss flashed through his mind like grease catching alight in a cook pan. He ran a hand through his white curls, recalling the anguish he’d felt in the depths of his dream. He’d felt so small. So fearful and alone. It made him restless.

Astarion stood and exited his tent, stepping into the chill of the night. Their campfire had burned to embers, the light barely able to cut through the murky darkness. The hour was either exceptionally late or achingly early, and the camp was still. Astarion was the only creature stirring in the gloom.

Memories, unbidden, jerked into his mind. Nights spent lurking in silent shadows, looking for a hapless target to bring back to the mansion. The endlessness of his putrid life was the only thing he thought lay before him. More decades of pain, torture and misery. The uncaring hopelessness of it all crushing every scrap of faith and every desperate prayer he had within until all that remained was a broken shell. Unfeeling and brittle.

He hated how wretched and pathetic he’d been. Used up and miserable. He never wanted to feel that way again. And so he fled from those memories, seeking distraction and solace, until he came to stand at the entrance to Eli’s tent.

Astarion paused just outside the mouth of the tent, apprehension twisting in his gut. He was being silly and foolish, he knew. Eli was fine. She’d be asleep in her bedroll and Astarion would feel like an idiot who’d allowed himself to get worked up over a godsdamn nightmare.

Gently, he pulled back the curtain that hung across the tent mouth and peered inside. As predicted, Eli was fast asleep with her back to the entrance. Astarion watched her shoulder rise and fall slowly as she breathed and felt the gnawing tension inside himself loosen its grip, just a bit.

Stupid. This was stupid. He was stupid. Gods, he wanted to hold her…

He wanted her to look at him like he meant something, like he was worth something. He wanted to lose himself in her, like that first night when they’d created their own pocket of nowhere. Free from Cazador and all of his miseries, free from the pain and the fear. Just them, wrapped up in hushed whispers and sweat and lust…and something else. Something different and needy and fragile. Something he’d never felt with anyone else.

“Astarion?” Eli’s voice pulled him back into the world and he blinked, focusing on her as she turned over to face him.

Of course she was awake. Eli’s sleep had become even more restless and fleeting since the night she’d woken him in a panic and he’d had to restrain her. He’d watched over her as she writhed, witnessing her loss of control as the thing within clawed for the surface. It had reminded him of how Cazador would wrest control of his spawn, forcing them to do as he commanded without resistance. He’d realized then that he feared losing her. That he cared and desperately wanted her to overcome whatever this monster was.

He was struggling with the realization, but that didn’t make the truth of it any less real.

“I’m sorry, my dear.” Astarion spoke quietly, shaking his head as if that would rid his mind of its cluttered thoughts. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Without pausing to dissuade himself, he crawled forward into Eli’s tent and sat next to her bedroll. He had allocated absolutely zero thoughts to what he would say or do next, but that wasn’t necessarily uncommon for him these days. Things had been working out for him so far, so why shift strategy?

Eli sat up and watched him curiously. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, waving off the concern that was growing in her eyes. “I’ve just been unable to sleep, what with Gale one tent over and snoring like an ogre with swamp lung. So, considering our current arrangement, I thought I might share your tent for the remainder of the night.”

Astarion’s words flowed with well-practiced ease and charm, as if he hadn’t just made that entire excuse up on the spot. He smirked at Eli, who was still fixing him with a skeptical stare, and fought down the sudden anxiety that was rising in his chest and urging him to back out of the tent.

Eli had become rather versed in reading Astarion and it was something he had not quite come to terms with yet. On one hand, it stroked the egotistical part of him that desired attention and affirmation to have someone so attentive to him that they could peak behind the pomp and bluster he so often put forth. On the other hand, he felt as if a part of him was at risk of being snatched away or trapped if someone was able to pull back the roguish mask he’d so carefully crafted. He felt unbalanced, oscillating between moments of vulnerability with Eli and moments where he slammed his walls back in place.

A part of him wanted to tell her why he was really there. That the thought of her, the thought of them, not being real had shaken him to the point where he physically needed to see her. Just to put his mind at ease. He didn’t understand it, himself; the feeling that had driven him to seek her out after he woke. And so he kept his mouth shut and didn’t elaborate, fearing that Eli may think him rather pitiful.

Eli continued to watch Astarion, dubious yet silent, before she sighed and shrugged. “Alright then. If you don’t want to tell me what’s really going on, that’s fine,” she said, then patted the space next to her on the bedroll. “You’re always welcome, you know.”

Astarion felt a strange pang of…disappointment twist in his chest. He’d honestly expected Eli to press further for an explanation that wasn’t clearly pulled out of his ass. But she didn’t. It was disarming.

He moved to her side and situated himself as Eli laid back down. She watched him for a moment as he fluffed a pillow and settled, then she closed her eyes with a deep breath and said nothing more.

“Thank you,” Astarion said quietly as his eyes danced across her restful face.

He felt a sense of unease, unused to having his boundaries respected in such a way. Eli had never been the sort to prod at him for explanations, or to prod at anyone, for that matter. As someone with their own menagerie of secrets and internalized darkness, she tended to allow others the leeway to decide how much or how little they wanted to share. Still, they’d been…indulging in one another rather frequently these days, and Astarion was realizing that while their nights together were a lot of fun, he wanted something…more.

The problem was he hadn’t any idea what that “more” was. And gods did it frighten him. The last thing he wanted to do was give someone else control over him, not after he’d so recently regained a taste of freedom. Over the past 200 years, every relationship he’d ever been involved in had been nothing more than a means to an end with Astarion either playing the role of manipulator or the one being manipulated. Attachments were leverage, giving someone a hook they were able to dig their claws into in order to gain ground. Isolating himself from connecting with others was how he had survived.

And yet, as he watched Eli drift back into sleep, his eyes found her hand resting near her pillow. A longing came over him and, carefully, he reached out tentative and slow until his fingers brushed gently against her own, quietly connecting. Questioning.

Eli’s eyes opened, sleepy but curious. She watched his fingers lightly caressing her own, and with a small smile took his hand and tenderly wove her fingers in between his. Moments like this, made up of soft touches and careful affections, were becoming more common between them. And the intimacy of these moments never ceased to fascinate Astarion.

To Astarion, intimacy had always involved passion and lust. It was created in the pressed spaces between fervent bodies as they worked one another towards ecstasy. It was fleeting and vanished just as quickly as it emerged.

This, however…this was different. This was calm and soothing, and it lingered almost like a promise. Always available to be restoked and explored.   

“I…” Astarion began, hesitating for only a second before he steeled himself and pressed on. “I dreamed I was back at the mansion. Back under Cazador’s control.” The name was spoken on the edge of a growl, his red eyes fixed on their joined hands.

He paused, thinking through what to say next, and Eli allowed him the silence to collect his thoughts and continue. “He mocked me,” Astarion spat. “Saying that all this was an illusion. That I hadn’t escaped. That you were an illusion.”

He glanced cautiously to her face, and when his eyes met hers, he found understanding there.

“Well, you came to the right tent,” Eli smiled, voice playful though not dismissive. “I’m something of an expert on nightmares. We can even compare notes, if you like.”

She squeezed his hand lightly and repeated his words from the night when he’d kept vigil over her as she fought against the dark madness within herself. It was unexpectedly touching and Astarion felt something twist where his dead heart was.

“As for whether or not I’m an illusion,” Eli said as she propped herself up on her elbows, slinking closer to him, eyes locked in to his own. “We can thoroughly investigate that claim, if you’d like,” she whispered, a sly question lingering in her gaze.

Astarion smirked, rising and leaning in to close the space between them. He untangled his fingers from her own and placed his hands on her shoulders, fulling intending to roll her to her back and ravish her while she squirmed beneath him. Astarion had come to Eli’s tent with no expectations beyond wanting her close, but he certainly wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity to get even closer. They were good together. Really. Fucking. Good. And already desire was clouding over his mind as he bent to capture her mouth with his own. He had tasted her many times before, and yet every time they came together after a prolonged absence it felt fresh and raw. Rejuvenating and wild.

In all of his time as a thrall to his master, Astarion had never bedded the same person twice. Every night was a new conquest, new prey for him to stalk and tease until he’d gathered just enough information to get him through the evening and to get his target back to the mansion. The encounters always played out very tactically on his end as he gathered just enough surface-level drivel to ensure his quarry was seduced into the trap. Once Cazador came for his prize, Astarion would never see the poor wretches again, and that was fine by him.

With Eli, though, it was so different. There had been nothing tactical about any of it after that first night, and even during. The ecstasy of freedom, of choosing to give of himself rather than being forced, was intoxicating. They would explore one another, finding comfort in both familiarity and discovery, honing in on the things that drove the other mad and had them coming undone in the throes of rapture. They were becoming known to one another, intimately and completely. Perfecting and exploring and discovering every time they were together.

It was both enthralling and terrifying, being known like that. Being laid bare as Eli unraveled him just a bit further every time, uncovering parts of himself that had been left dormant and untouched for so long.

The anticipation of it all was already causing a firm swell to build below the waistline of his trousers as he pressed into the kiss. His tongue darted and teased at her lips, gently prodding between them and beckoning her closer. One of his hands had slipped to the small of her back as the other pressed into her shoulder, gently guiding her so that he could tuck Eli below him and crawl on top.

Eli, however, seemed to have other plans in mind and resisted his direction, pushing back into him and maneuvering the both of them until he was on his back with her legs straddling his waist. She never broke the kiss, rocking forward on her knees as she took his hand from her back and pinned it to the ground above his head, her fingers lacing in between his own. He growled into the kiss and playfully ghosted a fang over her bottom lip, causing her to hum needfully into his mouth.

And then her lips were gone, leaving only the hot impression of longing against his own as Eli trailed her lips from the corner of his mouth to the shell of his ear. Her breath was tantalizingly warm, brushing against the sensitive skin there, causing a shiver to course down his spine before it pulsated up into his firming dick. His free hand came to rest on her hip and he fingered mindlessly at the hem of her pants. He wanted her to sit back onto his groin so he could roll his hips up into her and rut his straining cock in between her legs. Hells, he wanted to be free of their clothes so he could sheathe himself inside her warmth and watch her ride him while he speared her over and over as she screamed his name until her throat was raw.

But then all thoughts and wants were lost to a white hot flash in his mind as Eli bit down on the tip of his ear, careful not to break skin but sharp enough to fire lightning off into his veins. His hips snapped up, needing to feel her as his cock throbbed. His left hand was still pinned above his head by one of hers, and he felt his nails digging at the skin of her knuckles while his right hand desperately tried to pull her hips down against him. He choked off a whine in the back of his throat and closed his eyes as his head rolled back against the ground.

She laughed breathily into his ear, and oh gods it was undoing him already. This was dangerous. She’d been paying attention, noting all the things that set him off and applying them expertly until she had him writhing. It was a wholly new experience for him and beneath his fervor and lust was a seed of trepidation.

When it came to sex, there had always been two ways the experience would play out. Either he would maintain control over the situation, or he would disassociate as his various partners had their way and used him to their satisfaction.     

But this. This was new. And while it wasn’t unwelcome, the fact that she’d worked him into this position so easily was setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind. He felt exposed. Vulnerable. He hadn’t realized how freely he’d given of himself these past few weeks, how far he’d let her explore and how attentively she’d done so.

How known he truly was.

And then she was letting go of his hand while her lips returned to his own, pressing soft and affectionate kisses into them. She carded a hand into his hair, careful to avoid his ear which was still tingling and overstimulated. He felt a shudder of both relief and disappointment roll through his body as the high passed, missing the sensuality and hunger of it all while relaxing into a more settled state of mind.

Astarion’s eyes were still closed, and the throbbing in his dick had not subsided. He felt her breath back at his ear, though not as close as it had been earlier.

“I just want to make you feel good,” he heard her whisper, sending sparks back through his veins. “Show me how.”

His eyes fluttered open to find hers gazing back at him, sweet and attentive. He felt her fingers twining through his hair and sighed contently, a small smile on his lips.

“You’ve been doing a magnificent job so far, darling,” he crooned before pulling her back down into another wanting kiss.

He smoothed his hands along her sides, repositioning her atop him until she was flush against him. He ran one hand down her spine, firm and slow, while the other gripped the back of her head, encouraging her to melt into him as their tongues explored each other’s mouths and their bodies squirmed, searching for friction. The hand at her back moved to squeeze her ass before he pressed her down against him, desperate for pressure against his groin.    

“My only critique so far is there are entirely too many clothes between us,” he breathed against her lips. The hand on her ass gripped tight as he pressed and rubbed his thick erection into her hips, driving the point home.

“Allow me to remedy that,” Eli said with a quick kiss.

And then she was gone, hiking his shirt up and licking warm and wet kisses down his belly towards his waistline. Her hands were undoing the fastenings of his trousers and his head was beginning to spin with the implication.

That wasn’t… She didn’t have to…

He felt Eli slip her hands beneath his smallclothes and tug, pulling both his trousers and underwear down until his erection was free. He sighed from the relief, feeling the fullness bob and twitch expectantly. Eli was dragging her tongue down from his bellybutton towards his aching cock and fuck…he couldn’t remember the last time someone had offered to do this for him.

His hand was in her hair, then, tugging gently for her to look up at him.

“That’s not what I was implying, my dear. You don’t have to…” Astarion’s protests trailed off when Eli’s eyes met his, full of lust and playful longing.

He’d sounded almost sheepish, even a bit apologetic, as a sting of guilt wormed its way into his gut. Astarion should be the one giving pleasure, that was how these things always went. That was what he was good at…what his master had made him for…

The thought struck out at him unbidden with a nasty sense of shock and disgust. Cazador had created him for the pleasure of others, taking every opportunity to viciously remind him that what he wanted and how he felt never mattered. It was a belief that had been bolted to his soul after decades of torment, and one it seemed he still carried, even when he wasn’t in his master’s grasp.

“Astarion,” Eli said, softly pulling him out of his spiraling.

He blinked and refocused on her as she pressed her lips gently against the taunt skin over his hip bone, drawing an eager hiss from between his teeth as his dick jerked. Images of her mouth around him, warm and so godsdamn wet and tight, were firing off in his brain and…fucking hells, when had he fallen so completely for her?

“Right now, in this moment, nothing would make me happier than to get you down my throat and thoroughly satisfy you.” Eli smirked at him, hands on his bare thighs and lips a mere breath away from his cock, red and full and beginning to leak.

Her eyes were glittering with a mischief that was intoxicating, but there was affection there, too, soothing and comforting. He shivered, furiously trying to shut his brain down as thoughts collided in explosions of need, guilt and desire.

He’d thought himself so smart, charming and seducing her into his bed. Laying a trap and then walking her into it with such confidence and glee, only for him to find himself just as ensnared. He’d used her, manipulated her, and then drowned himself in her and gods above, if he didn’t want to do it again and again.

“But if that’s not what you want…” He stiffened at Eli’s words, catching the undercurrent of concern in her voice as she shifted and began to move back up his body.

He stopped her, sliding his hand from out of her hair to cup her cheek while he brushed a few silvery strands from her eyes with the other. Now was decidedly not the time for him to have an internal crisis of feelings. Not in the middle of the night with his dick out, pants halfway down his legs and Eli saying such obscene and beautiful things to him. There’d be time for personal reflection later.

He wanted this. Wanted her.

“I want it.” He almost felt embarrassed at the raw desire that slipped through his voice, heavy and breathy. “Gods, you have no fucking idea how much…”

He stopped himself before he could elaborate more and completely mortify himself.

“It’s just been a long time since anyone offered,” he concluded. He wouldn’t admit he couldn’t remember the last time someone had pleasured him like that.

Eli considered him for a moment, expression thoughtful, and for a brief moment of panic Astarion wondered if she had changed her mind. About him and about all of this. But then her lips twitched up into a tender smile and he felt his soul shudder.

“Please.” Astarion breathed.

Eli ghosted a few featherlight kisses near the base of his cock before whispering, “Well, when you ask so sweetly…”

And then her mouth was on him and Astarion’s head rolled back as he made a noise he was entirely too obliterated to be ashamed of.

She took only the tip at first, sucking down onto the head as her lips slid back and forth over the swollen ridge. Her pace was slow, and it was both agonizing and exhilarating. His thighs clenched as a heavy pressure throbbed deep in his groin, sending shivers and tingles spasming out through his legs and up into his belly. His hand was back in her hair, grabbing and encouraging, careful to not be forceful, while his other hand fisted the bedroll.

He both heard and felt Eli laugh low in her throat, the vibrations of it tingling down his shaft and setting his nerves on fire. He’d managed to kick his trousers off, spreading his legs apart so she could nestle between them and absolutely destroy him.

Eli began sucking him down further, slowly sheathing himself into her mouth. He shut his eyes, growling as her warmth and spit enveloped him. He responded by hitching his hips up into her, wanting more, wanting her full of him. He felt her hands on his hips, directing him to rock up into her mouth at a languid pace. He fell into the rhythm, fucking into the suction. She flattened her tongue, applying pressure along his shaft every time he thrusted in before dragging her tongue tip along the sensitive skin when he pulled out.

The growl in his throat grew into a lewd moan that shamelessly filled the tent, leaving no one who was awake in camp to wonder about what was taking place. He could not have cared any less about who heard, and in fact he welcomed it. Let them all listen as Eli, savior of the Druid’s Grove, conqueror of Grymforge and scourge of the Absolute went down on him and fucked him senseless with her perfect fucking mouth. He was the only one she’d do this to, the only one she’d pleasure. No one else got to experience this, see her like this.

He was hers.

The thought set off a wave of arousal so potent that he felt his cock spasm in response, leaking precum that Eli’s tongue then swirled across his tip as he continued to rut into her. The pressure between his legs was mounting as a possessive and greedy emotion seized him.

“Darling…oh gods, darling, not yet…” Astarion wasn’t going to last like this, but he was not ready to be undone. Not yet.

He opened his lust-blown eyes and a feral groan tumbled out of him at the sight of Eli between his legs, sweaty and fervent and his. Leaning forward, he cupped her chin and encouraged her off his dick. Her eyes met his and the mixture of arousal and craving in her dilated pupils slammed into him so hard his chest hitched.

Nobody looked at him like that. Ever.

He needed more.  

Wordlessly, he pulled her up to him and their mouths crashed together in a wild and wanton kiss that was all tongues and teeth. He could taste himself on her, salty and pungent and it drove him mad.

They only separated for a moment as Astarion pulled Eli’s shirt up and over her head before removing his own. Then, they were tumbling back onto the bedroll, Astarion still pinned beneath Eli as their hands greedily explored one another.

He began fumbling with the buttons of Eli’s pants, the last barrier between them, and licked into her mouth as she moaned desperately into their bruising kiss. She was writhing on top of him, bent over him and straddling his bare torso as her hips rolled against him shamelessly. Undoing the buttons, he slipped his hand beneath her underwear and ran a teasing finger between the lips of her swollen clit.

Eli whined and gasped as his touch and Astarion laughed with wicked mirth, gliding his finger back and forth between her wet folds but never going deeper. She was soaked, worked up into a frenzy and it emboldened his ego to no end.

“I didn’t realize sucking on my cock could make you so wet,” he purred with no small amount of self-satisfaction.

His finger traced a circle along the rim of her pulsating clit, earning a high-pitched moan that shuddered out of her throat and went straight to his dick. She tried to reposition herself, needing his fingers in places they weren’t.

He grinned at her distress, earning a reproachful bite to his lower lip that did nothing to dissuade him.

“Less working your mouth and more working you – oh fuck!” Eli cried out as Astarion pushed two fingers up into her, burring them deep.

She bolted upright, arching her back as her mouth fell open and her head fell back, a slew of profane and needful curses tearing from her throat. He felt her clamp down on his fingers, hands pressing on his chest for balance as she brazenly rode his fingers.

He gazed up at her as his fingers stroked and hooked at her throbbing walls, causing little twitches and spasms to filter throughout her body. Her skin glistened in the foggy moonlight that seeped in through the walls of the tent, sweat-slicked breasts bouncing with each thrust of her hips as her head lolled, eyes shut reverently as she worked to satisfy herself. His dick bobbed against his belly with each roll of her hips, and he could feel a warm trail of precum rolling down the edge of his hip. His erection was so stiff it verged on painful, and when he felt her walls begin to flutter around his fingers, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

He pulled his hand back from within her core and the gasping whine that erupted from her lips nearly choked him.

“I’m sorry, my sweet,” he crooned, wrapping an arm around her back as he braced himself with the other and sat up. “Bear with me for just a moment. I dare not make you wait any longer.”

Astarion tipped her back and laid her down, yanking both her pants and underclothes off in a swift motion. He settled his hips between her legs, the head of his cock pressing agonizingly at her entrance.

He hovered above her for a moment, drinking her in. She was a gorgeous mess, eyes blown wide with craving and skin flushed hot and pink. Her chest was heaving as she gazed up at him with a look that would have stopped his heart if it weren’t already still. Adoration beamed back at him as she smiled and Astarion felt a twisting deep in his chest.

He knew then, with absolute certainty, that whatever was between them was so much more than anything he had planned for it to be. It terrified and amazed him. Welling up emotions within himself he wasn’t sure how to grasp or understand. He didn’t want to hide from it, though. He’d been hiding and skulking and manipulating for too long.

He wanted something more. Something real.

Astarion bent down, kissing Eli deep and longingly. Hoping that even just a shred of what he felt could be communicated through the embrace. She sighed into it, eyes closing and hands carding into his hair before they slid down to his back. He shivered as her fingers traced tenderly over the scars there, careful and deferential.

Breaking the kiss, he hooked an arm under her left leg and rested it up on his shoulder, pressing it forward and stretching her apart. Lining himself up to her warm core, he rested his forehead against her own and felt her squirm impatiently beneath him.

“Fuck, Astarion, please.”

That was all it took. He pushed inside of her, body shuddering at the enveloping and soft warmth. He felt his abdomen clench, waves of arousal rocketing down his legs and up his spine as he sank into her to the hilt. Astarion groaned, pulling back before he buried himself again, then again, then again. Eli gasped with each thrust, arching her back and angling her hips for a better position. The leg he’d pulled over his shoulder tensed and squeezed, pressing down on him as he snapped his hips up and into her. A low growl rose up, unbidden, from his throat. He was throbbing and needy and she felt so fucking good. Warm, wet and tight as he pressed into her walls and felt her contract around him. Their eyes were locked in and a rapturous shudder ran the length of his spine as Eli’s face contorted in ecstasy, her mouth opening in a silent and delirious cry.

He pulled back again. Her eyes were begging. Another thrust, making her back arch up as she bucked her hips into him, needing him deeper.

He was entranced with her face and the raw longing he saw there. He plunged in again, drawing a high squeal from her that turned into a breathy rasp as she closed around him and shook against his body. Her eyes never left his, and he drank in every mewl and cry as she looked at him with so much affection and craving that Astarion was tempted to duck his head and hide from the level of vulnerability she was giving him.

But he didn’t. Couldn’t. No one else got to see this. No one else would see Eli – hero, warrior, leader, fledgling legend that she was – shivering and squirming underneath him as he pumped into her. This was all for him, and him alone.

She was falling apart, losing herself in the thrill and the ecstasy, every sob for more spurring him on as he stared into her enthralled eyes. Her hands were everywhere, desperately running up and down and all over, clutching and pulling him closer while she pushed at the small of his back, directing his thrusting pace into one she could match with euphoria-inducing turns and twists of her hips.

The wild and undone look in her eyes coupled with the unrelenting throbbing of his cock was near enough to drive him mad. Electric jolts shot down his legs from his groin with every plunge, and his muscles felt as if they would seize at any second. It felt amazing. She felt amazing, and gods she was looking at him like he was the gravitational pull of the universe. It tore at his seams and pulled a centuries-old ache from his dead heart.

He wanted to be someone to her. Someone important. Someone she needed.

It was agonizing and frightening, that feeling. The last time he’d even remotely felt anything near to it, he’d been locked away and isolated in a coffin for over a year. Punishment for such sentimental wretchedness.

Astarion grit his teeth, clawing his way back from the memory and pushing it all down. Those were things left for later. Not now. Not when Eli was crying out and babbling about how incredible he felt, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss that he swore was going to set him on fire.

The pressure was building between his legs again as every muscle below his chest began to tense. His mind fixated on the lewd and wetly rhythmic sounds coming from between them and he could feel her slick arousal all over his groin and lower torso. His mind began fuzzing, triggered by all the erotic sounds and the building stimulation threatening to explode in his core.

He wanted this. He wanted to feel her cum beneath him. He wanted to feel himself truly and completely let go for the first time in centuries.

He pulled back from their kiss, the hair on his neck pricking in response to the small whine that left Eli’s throat as he did so.

He continued to pound into her, hard and measured, dick pulsating inside of her as the buildup became nearly unbearable. Beyond the pounding of blood in his ears he could hear himself grunting with each thrust, deep and animalistic and so fucking needy as the delirium mounted all around them.

Astarion leveled his eyes with Eli’s, face hovering above hers, and smiled at the unabated and desperate look she was giving him.

“Do you really want me that badly, darling?” he asked, panting and nearly out of his mind with wonder at the sheer amount of desire coursing between them.

There was no teasing in his question, no flirtatious overtones or hidden meanings. He needed to know.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the world narrowed.

“Gods, Astarion, I want all of you,” Eli nearly cried, arms tightening around him as she came near to climax. “Not just this,” she moaned, pressing her face into his neck as her back arched off the ground. She was shaking she was so close.

“I want you with me,” she whined into his ear and the desperation in her words was intoxicating. “In all the ways that matter,” she continued, her voice raw and teetering on the edge of bliss. “…with me. Please!”

Astarion clung to her like a man drowning, eyes closed and face pressed into her hair. The scent of her was everywhere and he reveled in the frantic intimacy of the moment, blindly grabbing at her upturned hips and bottoming out into her with a force that sent lightning zipping through his veins and stars bursting behind his eyelids.

The pressure between his legs released and Astarion came with all the subtlety of a smokepowder barrel blowing alight, all the muscles in his legs and lower torso seizing and relaxing in bursts.

“Gods, Eli. Fuck!” he cried out against her, swept up in the climax as the world fell away.

Eli followed, her inner walls contracting around him, bolstering his orgasm as she shuddered and cried out for him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed tight, wanting him full and solid as she came with him inside.

Astarion moved his hips in a circular motion, gentle and sensual, letting Eli ride out the last of her orgasm as the both of them came down. They were a tangle of arms, legs, sweat and ragged breath, neither willing to let go of the other as a hush fell over the tent. They rested in the quiet, laying in each other’s arms, content in the intimate sense of togetherness. He could feel her racing heart beat beneath her skin as he rested his head under her chin, her pulse lulling him into a comfortable daze. The scent of the blood in her veins was hot and sweet and he reveled in the thrum of life that surrounded her. A life he was growing more and more attached to…

Suddenly, Eli snorted and Astarion’s eyes snapped open curiously. He lifted his head and quirked a brow down at her as she tried and failed to suppress a fit of giggling. He tensed, unsure and more than a little confused by her bizarre response to what he thought had been a rather exhilarating experience.

She squeezed his bicep reassuringly, a delighted grin settling on her face.

“Sorry,” she laughed quietly. “I was just thinking, there’s no way anyone in this camp is still sleeping. We’re going to have to apologize in the morning.”

Astarion’s eyes softened as the corner of his mouth twitched up fondly. He then made a show of rolling his eyes before he buried his face back into her neck.

“You are quite mad, aren’t you?” he mumbled, unable to keep a smile out of his words. “I’ll go to my second grave before I apologize for what we just did.”

_______________________________

The sounds of muffled shuffling outside the tent woke Astarion the next morning. He tracked the sound with his ears, unwilling to open his eyes and rouse himself from his sleepy haze.

Eli lay pressed up against him in his arms, her head nestled near his chest. He’d pulled a blanket over them at some point during the night in an effort to retain the warmth coming off her body. Considering his undead nature, he could only sap her body heat from her, rather than contribute to it, and that fact bothered him a bit more now than it had in the past.

He traced a finger lazily across her back, feeling the ridges and divots of multiple angry scars she had no memory of earning. Eli’s body was a war story, just as damaged as her broken mind with twisted scarring and gnarled blemishes that held their secrets close. They were the remnants of a brutality that was difficult to reconcile with the person he’d come to know Eli as, and it made her all the more beautiful for it.

He didn’t mind her brokenness, and he was comforted by her imperfection. He knew all to well what it was like to be torn open over and over…

The clang of a cookpot being hoisted over the camp’s fire caused him to flinch, and Eli stirred, yawning into his bare chest.

Astarion opened his eyes, blinking as they focused in the gloom. Early morning shadows crept along the walls of the tent and he could now hear Gale’s distinct and nervous muttering as the wizard went about his morning routine, preparing coffee and some manner of breakfast near the center campfire. There was another voice, too, hushed and careful, as if the speaker didn’t want to be overhead.

“Oh, would you two stop squawking like a pair of gossipy hens!” Karlach’s voice boomed out over the hushed muttering, both scolding and amused in tone. “You both are just jealous it wasn’t either of you causing that racket last night. Hells knows I am,” she bemoaned.

“Is that what Gale and Wyll are prattling on about?” Lae’zel’s voice barked from over near her tent. “Sex can provide excellent relief from the stresses of our chaotic situation. It is both a healthy and helpful activity, though I am assuming neither of you have much familiarity with its benefits considering how you chatter like scandalized adolescents.”  

Eli cut off a laugh in the back of her throat and Astarion smirked.

Gale and Wyll had begun to boisterously protest before Karlach interrupted, clearly directing her next statement in the direction of Eli’s tent.

“They might as well get out here so we can properly taunt them for not inviting any of us!”     

Eli rolled onto her back then sat up, shrugging the blanket off and arching her spine in a fluid stretch, arms raised. Wordlessly, she then bent down, kissing him with a tenderness that made his chest ache, before she leaned away and stood, beginning to dress.

“Sorry, Karlach, but I draw the line at superheated engine that could melt my face off and angry unstable bomb that could level a small city when considering who I sleep with.” Eli pulled her shirt over her head and turned to wink at him before she unfastened the tent flap and stepped out into camp.

Karlach’s boisterous laughter greeted her and Astarion frowned as the tent flap fell back into place, leaving him alone with thoughts he needed to sort through.

Denial wasn’t going to work any longer. And gods, was he in trouble.

[etherealising]

chapter six | didn’t i do it for you?

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | platonic!natalie berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!neil fak x fem!reader

summary: carmy knows exactly what he wants regarding you, but past mistakes always come to rear their ugly heads

warning(s): angst | hurt slight comfort | slight fluff | semi-jealous carmy | mentions of substance abuse | mentions of overdose | mikey | mentions of suicide | implied miscarriage | language | self-destructive behavior | arguments | forced love confessions | carmy’s sad boi hours | actions having consequences | more barby lore | children | no use of y/n | afab reader |

wc: 10.9k

a/n: hi lovies, this chapter may be a bit heavier than previous ones so please take the warnings extra seriously. if you are triggered by any warning please do not read this chapter i’ll literally message you a summary of the chapter if you need it. i may have missed some warnings so if that’s the case i do apologize it was not intentional. lastly please remember YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA COSUMPTION….enjoy 🩵

“You know, I-I don’t think my family meant to ruin it or anything like that, you know.”

Carmy was trying to be better, to be more open. And it was easiest at these Al-Anon meetings, no one knew him, and no one had any expectations of him.

“I-I don’t think they did it on purpose,” his hand subconsciously raised to the chain securely tucked under his crew neck, rubbing the metal through the fabric.

“I don-it’s not fair to blame them for everything,” a sardonic huff of laughter escaped Carmy as he thought of the words he was going to say. “I uh…I had a friend once…a best friend.”

“She was the first thing in life that I felt belonged to me,” Carmy frowned, having trouble articulating what he wanted to say. “And not li- I didn’t own her or anything, but she was my friend because she chose to be, not because she knew me through Mikey.”

“And then I…I fucked that relationship up myself…uhh and as I sat there trying to think of what provided amusement or joy in my life…I just thought of my childhood spent with her…by my side.” He cleared his throat forcing himself to remember that he would probably never interact with any of these people outside of these meetings.

Carmy’s hand dropped from its place where his covered chain sat, now gripping the armchair. “She’s uh she’s back in my life now and I…I want those things with her again I…I want to fix things with her, be the person she believes I am.”

Sydney’s curiosity the other day gave Carmy a lot to think about. He was so accustomed to looking at the picture above his stove daily, that he hadn’t even given it a second thought when he invited Sydney over. Her curiosity was understandable, the interactions you and Carmy shared hadn’t been the warmest but that Polaroid would suggest otherwise.

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to be here.” Carmy sat straighter in his chair, if he could admit his wants albeit vaguely to a room of strangers, he could admit his feelings to you. “Thank you, guys. Thanks for letting me share.”

Then he saw you at the grocery store, comfortable in someone else’s arms. He wasn’t jealous, or at least he didn’t think he was. But reality slapped him in the face, so sure of himself that the two of you could pick up where you left off he didn’t stop to think that maybe you didn’t want that anymore.

And then like the idiot he was, he gave Claire your number. He wanted to believe it wasn’t on purpose, that he had memorized your number so well it was the first he thought of when asked.

Carmy left the meeting hoping Claire didn’t call the number he gave her, hoping that you would be open to rekindling whatever relationship was left between you two.

Your morning was off to a great start. Hayden surprised you with breakfast at the office and signed off on your article for The Bear as long as it didn’t get in the way of your work at The Tribune. The two of you even brainstormed the best way to go about telling the story.

Since your late-night grocery run with Hayden, the two of you had fallen back into the friendship you developed all those years ago. It felt good to be reconnected with him, and thankfully things weren’t awkward considering your past sexual history.

Neither of you admitted to it, but you both knew the opportunity to fall back into your old ways would soon present itself, you weren’t sure if it was an option you would take advantage of though. The two of you weren’t in college anymore and as pathetic as it sounded since your vulnerable conversation with Carmy the other day, your heart still held out hope that the two of you could build up the foundation for a romantic relationship.

Rounding the corner of Orleans Street you finally made it to your destination, happy to have taken in the fresh air mid-morning had to offer. You approached the door to the restaurant hoping someone would hear your knock and let you in.

You smiled as Sydney opened the door moving back to allow you in, you reached up to slide your headphones off as you greeted both her and Carmy.

“Good morning, is Nat in?” The text you received on the train ride over from the oldest Berzatto was pushed to the back of your mind until now.

The urgent ‘we need to talk,’ text had worried you at first, but you had rationalized that Nat could’ve been referring to anything.

“Uh yeah, she’s in the office.” You nodded at Syd giving her a small smile in thanks before turning to make your way to the back.

“Oh hey, do you like have a second or…” You stopped in your tracks turning back to face the two chefs looking between them curiously before nodding once more.

You smiled waiting for one of them to speak, “Uh yeah can we make this quick though I need to speak with Nat.” You did your best to sound nonchalant, the longer you stood out here the more your anxiety began to rise, mind racing with what Nat needed to speak with you about.

“Yeah yeah of course,” Sydney stepped away from the door moving near Carmy who had remained silent since your entrance. “We were thinking of sending Marcus to Copenhagen and I know you stayed there, not like in a weird way but because I read your articles you know.”

You nodded your head eyebrows raised as a signal for Sydney to continue. You did your best to ignore Carmy’s stare while Syd rambled on about their idea and how the trip would help to inspire Marcus.

“…So we were wondering if you had any suggestions?” Her raised eyebrows stared back at you.

“Sorry suggestions for what?” The confusion was easily readable on your face, Syd’s excitement at the prospect overwhelmed you.

You watched as the two chefs stared at you, Carmy’s signature blank stare and Syd’s slightly hurt reaction that you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh uh for accommodations…in Copenhagen.”

The question surprised you, eyes darting to Carmy before focusing back on Sydney. You knew Carmen spent time in Copenhagen, so the fact that they were asking you for suggestions seemed a bit redundant.

Albeit stunned by the questions you smiled moving towards where the two of them were sitting, memories of your month spent in Copenhagen playing in your mind like a movie. The trip was months before Mikey’s passing and now as you think about it, it felt like that was the last time you had fun, and lived life without the worry that so often filled you now.

A chuckle left your lips as you leaned against the counter looking from Syd to Carmy, “I uh I stayed with the chef I was profiling.” You bit your lip trying to contain the grin threatening to split your lips, “I still have his number I could call him if you want. He kind of owes me a favor anyway.”

Carmy’s arms fashioned themselves across his chest, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. There was so much he didn’t know about you including the fact that you had spent time in Europe with some mystery chef.

“Oh yeah? What uh-who was the chef you wrote about? Maybe I know him.” Carmy’s words surprised you, the look you exchanged with Sydney proved that he didn't come across as casual as he was trying to.

You raised from your position against the counter, “Chef Luca?” Your voice trailed off a bit before the smile you were trying to contain finally made its appearance, “He’s this amazing pastry chef, who’s so passionate about his craft it was like watching a master at work!”

Carmy watched as you gushed about his former colleague, annoyance clawing at his throat as he took notice of just how happy the memories made you.

“Luca even taught me how to make this crazy dessert he was still perfecting, I mean mine was nothing compared to his but it was honestly the most fun I’d had in so long.” You reminisced about your time spent with Luca, “Oh, and my peach cobbler? Yeah, he taught me the simple syr-.”

“No yeah, I’m familiar with him.” Both you and Sydney were pulled from your animated conversation; the tight smile on Carmy’s face alerted you of his irritation.

You nodded, feeling a little bad at your rambling, “Okay well I’ll just go see Nat now, let me know if you need me to make that call.” You drummed your hands against the counter before turning around to take your leave.

“Hey uh, Baby?” You turned your head before disappearing around the corner eyebrows raised as you looked at Carmy. “Do you think we could maybe talk later?” You watched as his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck.

Sydney watched the interaction play out between the two of you, a small smirk lining her lips as she watched how flustered Carmy got just by asking you a simple question.

Your lips tugged up into a small smile, “Sure thing Carm, I’ll come back when I’m done with Nat.”

Carmy was sure his heart was beating so loud Sydney could hear it, the nickname something he hadn’t heard spilled from your lips in so long. The small smile he briefly caught did wonders for his already lacking confidence, he was now sure more than ever that there was a chance to fix things with you.

You entered the office to see Natalie pouring over documents presumably to do with permits and money in regards to the restaurant. You took a step forward momentarily stopping at Nat’s voice.

“Close and lock the door behind you please,” The lack of eye contact was grating on your nerves, either Natalie was completely stressed about her role as project manager or you had yet again colossally fucked up.

You did as told not wanting to further irritate your very pregnant friend. The office was silent neither of you spoke up as Natalie finished looking over the latest paper she had picked up.

She looked exhausted and you felt horrible knowing you had potentially added more stress onto her already-loaded plate. Nat gave you a small smile though her eyes looked anything but happy.

“Cortez called me this morning,” Nat’s eyebrows raised as she pointedly stared at you. Your head fell back against the door a quiet ‘fuck’ mumbled into the air. “Said this was the third meeting you missed.”

Nat waited for you to return your attention to her, “I’m only going to ask you this once Baby, and I really need you to be honest with me.” Nat leaned forward in the chair, closing a bit of the space between you so you would hear her quiet voice, “Are you using again?”

You sighed leave it to Cortez to fucking snitch you out, you didn’t realize that being a snitch was a requirement if you were someone’s sponsor.

“Baby?” Your eyes connected with Nat’s the softness of her voice and the watery appearance in her eyes told you just how worried she was.

Your head shook back and forth rapidly as you raised your hand to massage your temples, “I’m not using Nat I promise. And I know that means jack shit coming from an addict but I promise I’m doing good.” You took a deep breath calming your budding agitation, you knew Nat was worried and it wasn’t her that you were annoyed at but yourself.

“I uh…I’ve been stuck on step eight since I joined this whole rebranding project, and I…I knew that Cortez would be persistent in me getting it done.” You grimaced at the fact that you had already missed three meetings, you hadn’t realized how far things had gotten, “It’s just things felt normal again and I guess I thought I could just pretend like everything was okay.”

Natalie nodded as she listened to your explanation, she hated it but there was always a part of her that would be apprehensive. She had seen the manipulation substance abuse breeds firsthand when she stayed with you in the hospital after your overdose, it hurt her to see you hurting. To sit back and watch as the withdrawal symptoms ate away at you as you would fiend for a fix that you took your pain out on her and Pete.

Nat quickly turned to where her purse was sitting pulling out a box the two of you were all too familiar with.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Your face scrunched up in anger, the emotion slowly residing as you watched Nat close her eyes and take a deep breath in. You felt like a complete asshole you knew Nat wasn’t doing this of her own volition and you had no one to blame but yourself for the predicament you were now in.

“Nat shit, I’m sorry you didn’t deserve that. But you really can’t expect me to take that here.” Your hand thrust out to the box that seemed to be taunting you.

“Baby you know the rules. I don’t like this as much anymore than you but when you just decide you don’t need to meet with your sponsor anymore, these are the measures we have to resort to.”

“Lead the way, Mom.” Natalie let out a small chuckle at your antics, thankful that you were being somewhat logical, “Wait is there a bag we can throw this away in, we can’t just leave the evidence in the bathroom.” The two of you turned to search through the office sure you would find a stray plastic bag lying somewhere.

You popped up, a plastic baggie securely in your grasp, “Does the toilet even work?” Nat shrugged, walking past you and making her way to the bathroom leaving you to follow behind.

“Aww yeah, party in the bathroom! Am I invited?” Nat stopped as Fak stood in front of the two of you hastily moving the bag behind her back doing her best to be inconspicuous.

“Sorry my love girls only, maybe next time,” Nat gave Fak a pat on the shoulder and her signature smile before maneuvering the two of you around him.

“Wait, is it that time of the month for us? Cause I think our cycles might be synced, I’ve been having the most insane cramps lately.” The words that left Fak’s mouth would never cease to surprise you.

“You know, I think you might be right Fak, my lower back has been killing me.” You indulged in Fak’s shenanigans, the man falling in line to walk with you as the two of you followed Natalie to the front.

Fak nodded along with you “No I’m like feeling it, should I invest in a heating pad?”

You snickered at Fak, “I usually just fill up a sock with rice and throw it in the microwave.” You shrugged like the conversation was a completely normal occurrence. “The first day is always the worst for me, my breasts get so tender.”

Fak raised his own hands to his chest cupping his pecs “Baby tell me about it, it’s just like one touch and I’m crying.” You could see Carmy’s confused look from your peripheral as your group finally made it to the bathroom.

“I could totally massage your breast Fak, but you would have to return the favor. It's only fair if you’re a part of the sisterhood.” You watched as Fak nodded his head rapidly, hands raising in the air and hovering in front of your breast.

“Wait, is this an actual thing?”

“Oh yeah me and Nat do it all the time, that’s actually why we’re going to the bathroom now.” Fak’s eyes darted to Nat before looking back at his hands inching closer to your breast.

“Wait no, I don’t want Carmy to be mad at me.” The two of you looked in Carmy’s direction, the man still watching just as confused as earlier.

You shrugged before turning back to Fak, “I can assure you Carmy would not give a single fuck if you touched my breast, Neil.”

The aforementioned man took in a gasp of breath before clearing his throat and slowly moving down the counter to get a better listen at what the hell the two of you were doing.

You, Nat, and Carmy waited to see what Fak’s next move would be, the smile raising to your face hard to keep under wraps, Fak was adorably easy to mess with.

Fak’s hands began to inch forward concentration clear as day on his face before a small shriek left his lips, “Baby I’m sorry, Carmy’s my best friend, I don’t think I can do this for you.”

You laughed at the disappointment in Fak’s voice, “Your loss babes, I know 16-year-old Fak would’ve killed for this moment.” Your hand raised to pat his cheek before you finally left his side and entered the bathroom as Nat held the door open for you.

“She was lying to you my love, we don’t massage each other's breasts.” With those last words, Nat shut the door on a disappointed Fak and a mildly annoyed Carmy.

Fak turned back to look at Carmy with an apology in his eyes, “I’m so sorry Carmy, teenage Fak was really fighting to come out right now but I know Baby’s your girl.”

Carmy frowned at Fak’s words, the irritation running through him at yours and Fak’s stupid antics. “She’s uh…she’s not my girl. Baby and I are just friends.”

Fak smiled widely in Carmy’s direction, “That’s great, you really should think about getting a girlfriend then, I just want you to be happy Carmy.” Fak began walking to the back to help move the appliances. Carmy let out a chuckle as he heard Fak mumble about missing his once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Carmy shook his head back and forth, having you back really was just like old times. He wouldn’t ever say anything out loud but Carmy was actually really glad he didn’t have to stand there and watch Fak fondle you.

“Pete said the two of you have a lunch date planned.” Your head shot up to Nat, the air had been a little stilted between the two of you since she had brandished the drug test.

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Doesn’t seem like the proper environment for a casual chat Nat.” You gestured to the dinghy bathroom you were in, emphasizing the urine sample sitting on the sink while the two of you awaited the results.

You watched the smile rise to Natalie’s lips, a somber look overcast on her face, “I’m not doing this because I want to Baby.” Nat’s voice took on a gravelly tone.

Natalie didn’t deserve this, she had already basically nursed you back to health once. And now here she and Pete were about to bring a life into this world, and here you were a grown adult still expecting everyone else to fix your problems. You knew Natalie didn’t need the stress and worry your life choices brought forth and if your overdose wasn’t a wake-up call enough, then Nat’s haggard appearance as you two stood in the bathroom sure was.

“I know and I apologize Nat. Really livin' up to my nickname aren’t I?” Nat chuckled listening to your apology. “There’s no excuse for my behavior. I know what’s expected of me I-”

Your words were cut off by the shrill ringing of your phone. The noise caused the two of you to jolt in the small bathroom. You quickly removed the device from your back pocket, it was a Chicago area code, but you already had everyone you knew here saved in your contacts.

“You gonna answer that?” Your eyes flashed to Nat, her eyebrows raised in question.

You took one last glance at the number trying to place it before clicking the power button and slipping it back into your pocket, “If it’s important they’ll leave a voicemail.”

“Anyway, I shouldn’t constantly depend on you to clean up my messes Nat, I don’t think I’ve been the best friend recently. And it should be you depending on me considering,” you waved your hand over her figure scared that if you spoke the word someone might hear. “I promise to do better Nat, I want to be around to help with the little gremlin.”

Nat raised her hand to wipe the few tears that were falling, making her way over to pull you into an embrace, “These damn hormones make me so emotional.”

You chuckled rubbing up and down Natalie’s back, “You’d be crying even if you weren’t compromised.”

The hug lasted up until the timer on Nat’s phone sounded, signaling the results were ready. The two of you pulled apart, with Nat sending you a reassuring smile.

It didn’t matter if you knew you hadn’t touched any substances since your hospitalization, you would always be nervous when it was time to read off the results. You waited with bated breath as Nat read over the testing stick, you would set up a meeting with Cortez as soon as you got the chance.

The sigh of relief Natalie let out stung you a bit, but you could understand her apprehension it wasn’t easy trusting a recovering addict.

“It’s negative Babes.” A sigh of relief left you.

A wide grin raising to your lips, “I told you so.” Nat rolled her eyes at the sing-song sound of your voice.

The two of you made quick work of cleaning up the bathroom, small talk about your future lunch with Pete floating around as you made sure all evidence was disposed of in the plastic bag.

Carmy watched as Sugar exited the bathroom the same drugstore bag from earlier in her hand. He sent a nod in her direction as she smiled at him before making her leave. Carmy was set to meet up with Syd in 30 minutes but he was hoping to speak with you before he took his leave, unsure if you would still be here later.

He returned his attention to the calendars with the timeline to open, checking off things that had already been taken care of and adding anything he wanted to double-check.

“You free to talk now, Carm?” He turned at the sound of your voice, a shy smile lining his cheeks as he took in the smile on your lips.

“Uh yeah, yeah if you’re free,” You nodded, coming to stand across from Carmy the old counter directly between you two.

Carmy’s eyes took in the sweater you were wearing, similar to the style in his but while his was a nice grey color, yours was a deep green. The familiarity of the crew neck finally dawned on him as he realized it was his crew neck you were wearing, the last time he saw it was the night he left you in his apartment all those months ago expecting to still see you there when he returned home.

It was silent as the two of you stared at each other, a giggle escaped your lips at the lost look on Carmy’s face. “What’d you wanna talk about Carmy?”

Carmy nodded trying to remove the memories from his mind, “I uh…I know I ruined our friendship and…and whatever was left of it.” He paused, eyes falling to the crew neck carefully wrapped around you, the memory of watching you get dressed after the shower you shared swimming around in his head, the extra pictures of the two of you tucked safely into his bedside drawer.

“Carm hey,” he watched as your knuckles knocked against the counter to bring him back to the present time.

“Yeah, I uh I just have a lot I think we should talk about Baby, and maybe the restaurant wasn’t the best place for it.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, nerves running haywire.

You nodded a serious look painted on your face, you were sure you knew what Carmen wanted to speak about but you also had secrets of your own you wanted to share with him.

“I…I want us to try and be friends again or at least be cordial with each other…if that’s not too much to ask.” Carmy huffs out a breath of laughter, eyes latching onto your figure in front of him.

He watches as you appear to be thinking, most likely retracing the path of your relationship through the years memories running through your head that he has absolutely no idea exists.

“Carmy, you’ve never not been my friend but a lot of your choices hurt m-.” Your phone rang again echoing off the walls in the front of the restaurant.

You gave Carmy a small smile before removing your phone, the number that’s calling you is the same one that called while you were in the bathroom with Nat earlier. You raise your finger to Carmy, gesturing that you need to take the call.

“Hello.” You wait as the other line stays quiet.

“Baby?”

You frown looking up at Carmy as he watches you hoping your call ends soon, “Uh I’m sorry who is this?”

“Oh, it’s me, uh…Claire. We lived down the street from each other as kids?” A gasp escaped your lips, surprised that she was calling you.

You move the phone from your mouth. Hand moving up to cover it as your eyes find Carmy’s “It’s Claire.” Your whisper takes a moment to register in his ears, too caught up in the bright smile on your face.

“Wow, it's so good to hear from you. Um, I hope I don’t sound rude but how exactly did you get my number?” You watched as Carmy ran a hand across his mouth, eyes wide your name slipped past his lips the dire need to get you off that call racing through him.

You held your finger up to him signaling to give you a moment, too wrapped up in miraculously connecting with an old friend.

“Oh um, this is going to sound weird. I uh…I ran into Carmy the other night at the grocery store and when I asked him for his number…this is the number he gave me.” You listened as Claire spoke, the smile quickly disappearing from your lips as your eyes found Carmy’s alarmed ones.

“Carmen gave you my number?” You watched the regret flash through his eyes.

“Mhm.”

“And claimed it was his?”

“Uh kinda yeah, it’s a bit weird but maybe he was just planning to call you or something.” A small laugh left your lips, if he hadn’t called you since he last saw you, you could bet he had no plans to ever call you.

“Yeah…fuckng bizarre.” You could feel the lump forming in your throat.

“Sorry if this is weird but do you think you could give me his number?” It felt like senior year all over again and you were the bridge between these two souls

An ironic smile rose to your lips as you stared directly at Carmy, the panic glaringly obvious in his eyes because he couldn’t hear Claire’s responses.

“Oh, Claire Bear I’m so sorry I haven’t spoken to Carmy in what’s it been?” You paused your glare on Carmy impenetrable.

“Five years, since high school graduation. I don’t even have his number.” The crack in your voice was evident to all who could hear, Carmy wished he could disappear at that moment.

“Oh no, is everything okay with you two?”

“You’re too sweet. You know how it is people change, they grow apart. I just think Carmy outgrew me.” It was becoming harder and harder to swallow your tears.

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that Baby. But I heard you're back in Chicago, maybe we can catch up?”

“Claire I’d love that, hey before you go try Fak for Carmy’s number I’ve heard they’re extremely close now, have a great rest of your day!” You listened as Claire said her goodbyes quickly, hanging up and placing your phone back in its designated pocket.

It was silent as you raised your head to the ceiling, a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips as you felt the tears trace down your cheeks. You were getting fucking tired of crying.

“Baby hey, hey let me exp-,” Carmy’s pleas were cut short as both of your eyes shot to his now ringing phone on the counter. Neither of you needed to be a fucking genius to figure out who was ringing Carmy’s line.

“Answer quickly Carmen, your little girlfriend is calling.” You knew it was petty and you shouldn’t be upset with Claire for chasing after what she wanted, but for once you didn’t want to be the one fighting for scraps of Carmy’s affection.

You didn’t want to have to share.

His hand quickly shot out pressing the power button on the side silencing the ringing, taking the extra step and turning it face down as he watched you just stare at it.

“Baby I-,”

“Why are you the way you are?” You were tired of putting Carmy and his feelings ahead of yourself, tired of running yourself ragged to accommodate your feelings for a grown man who was too scared of the truth.

“I-” You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. “I’m so hurt right now Carmen and I want to be angry, I want to be so fucking angry with you but I’m just hurt and exhausted, and I…I really don’t even want to waste my breath on you right now, but I’ve put up with a lot of your shit and I think I’m just done.” Carmy flinched at the sardonic laugh you let loose.

“It hurts Carmen…it hurts when the person you’ve been truly in love with for most of your life doesn’t even treat you like an option.” You ignored the sharp intake of breath that came from Carmen’s direction, surprised he even had the guts to listen to your rant.

The ringing in his ears along with your broken voice overwhelmed him.

“I have lived so much of my life for you and yeah I was stupid for that, but all I wanted was your happiness and all I wanted was happiness with you. I have given so much of myself to you Carmen I have lost pieces of u- of myself to you, Carmen.” The tears were raining down in full force.

It was one thing to cry when you were hurt but to cry out of anger and exhaustion would probably always be the worst feeling.

“All I wanted was for you to love me the way I loved you…the way I will continue loving you after today because the way I feel for you won’t just go away Carmen it will be stuck with me forever! What I lost to you will be stuck with me forever! And…and we spend this amazing weekend together and I accept that you can’t commit to me and I give you the benefit of the doubt because Mikey just died and you…fuck.” Your hand slammed against the counter top your thoughts all over the place.

“You take my number that you’ve had for a year and you give it to some girl that you had some stupid pathetic high school fucking crush on. I’m not even worth a fucking phone call to you Carmen! And I…I’m not even supposed to be here right now but you wouldn’t fucking know because your too much of a fucking coward to allow yourself to be loved to be happy!”

You could feel the oncoming migraine from how loud you were shouting, you did your best to ignore the gathering crowd, Nat and Richie at the forefront watching with worried glances, as Marcus Fak and the rest of the crew peaked through from the back.

A shuddering breath floated through your lips as you felt the lifetime of exhaustion catch up with you. “I almost gave you all of me Carmen. Please just leave me alone” The words escaped your throat in a hoarse whisper. You were so far gone that you couldn’t even see the look of heartbreak and despair marring Carmen’s features.

“Baby, hey!” Your eyes shot to Richie as he blocked your line of vision to Carmen's. Head shaking back and forth arms slowly reaching out before coming to rest on your biceps thumbs gently massaging into them. “Let’s take a break Baby calm down a bit yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along before he led you to the back, making sure to block your view of Carmen.

You were shaking as the two of you made your way past Nat a whispered ‘I’m sorry’ leaving your lips as she was left to deal with the mess that was Carmy.

“Fuck!” The loud crashes of a heavy object slamming into the floor caused you to jump in Richie’s hold as he led you back into the office.

Little tremors shook through your body as Richie carefully guided you to sit in the lone office chair. Taking his position by your legs as he squatted in front of you, worry etched into his features at having never seen you react like that.

Your hands came to grip Richie's, the tear tracks on your face now dried, you were almost positive you had run out of tears to cry.

“I lost everything, Richie,” your voice was strained. “And I…I spared him because I knew he couldn’t handle it, you knew he couldn’t handle it…not after Mikey.”

Richie’s eyes squeezed closed as he raised your intertwined hands to his forehead, haunting memories of you forcing their way through. He dropped your hands delicately cupping your face to press a kiss on your forehead, “I know Baby.” The words were spoken softly against your skin.

The two of you sat in that position as you gained control of your ragged breathing.

“I’m a hypocrite, Rich,” you separated yourself from him, locking eyes. “I blamed Carmy for so much out there…but I’ve done something so unforgivable, I don’t think you’ll look at me the same.” You wanted to cry but the exhaustion ate away at you.

“Hey I’ve been through some shit Baby, we’ve been through some shit, nothing,” the firm grip on your chin reminded you of the lost soul who should’ve been in the room with you two. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Nothing you say will change how I look at you.”

It was always weird to see Richie serious and the voice of reason, not that he didn’t have his moments, but seeing Rich without his signature smile made it feel like you had stripped him of something so personal.

“How bout this, Sug or I take you before you beat Carmy’s ass,” the sentence drew a small laugh out of you. “And then I’ll come over when I’m done here, pick up some dinner and we’ll have one of those nights like we used to when…when Mikey was still here.” You nodded your head not having enough energy to produce words.

Richie patted your knee rising to his full height as he headed to check on Sug and his idiot of a fucking cousin. “Oh hey, I’ll have Eva tonight, you don’t mind do you? She’s constantly on my ass about seeing her auntie Bebe.” Richie stood in the now open doorway awaiting your answer.

Your immediate response was yes, but you had to consider Tiff, unsure if she wanted her daughter around you considering your newly acquired title as recovering addict.

“I’d like that a lot, but I-I think you should get Tiff’s permission to bring Eva around me.” You knew your suggestion might upset Richie but it was for the best, and you would call Tiff yourself just to double-check.

“Hey no none of that shit, she’s my fucking kid too Baby.” The defensive tone in his voice immediately caused you to close your eyes, hands moving to massage your temples.

“Richie please, I just need you to do this for me okay? This isn’t about your parenting skills, Rich.” Richie watched you for a minute, the exhaustion noticeable.

He nodded sending you one last somber look before making his exit keen on chewing his little fucking asshole cousin a new one.

Richie could feel his anger rising in him as he walked past Marcus and Fak as they worked to remove appliances from the kitchen. He quickly sauntered toward the whispers of Sugar and Carmy becoming clearer as he finally made it to the front of the restaurant.

The first thing his eyes took notice of was the destroyed cash register lying in the middle of the floor, debris from the relic scattered across the room. Richie stood there taking in the scene, the two Berzatto siblings' conversation coming to a halt as Richie blew out a whistle, walking around the mess slowly clapping.

“You’re a real fucking piece of work Cousin,” Richie’s hand shot out to point in Carmy’s direction the younger man looking disheveled, the frown on his face almost comical.

Natalie felt her shoulders tense; she had known these two long enough to know nothing good would come out of this interaction. The fact that you were in the middle of all this would make whatever happened right now all the worse.

There were two things in the world Richie didn’t play about, little Eva; and you.

“Richie I don’t need your fucking bullshit right now.” Carmy moved to walk around the counter, hands fumbling in his pocket to get his cigarettes out, his focus on the door he was trying to escape through.

“You’re a piece of shit cousin.” Richie’s hands shot out to grip the collar of Carmy’s crew neck, shoving him into the counter.

Natalie’s shocked gasp of Richie’s name did nothing to tear the men away from each other.

“Get the fuck outta my face, Richie.” The shorter man shoved the man standing in front of him.

A rueful smile raised to Richie’s lips “That girl has bent over backward for your conceited ass time and time again, and you go and ruin the only good fucking thing you have going for yourself.” Richie’s hand raised thumb and middle finger moving to flick Carmy between the brows.

“You’re the last person that gets to talk to me about fucking ruining good things in my life.” Carmy’s free hand moved to swat at Richie’s.

“That empty fucking head of yours is so far up your ass you can’t see what the fucks been in front of you this whole time.

“Yo fuck you, Richie!”

The two loud voices echoed throughout the restaurant as the angry men tried to outyell each other.

“No you fucking listen to me! You don’t know what the fuck that girls been through. Where the fuck were you when shit went down Carmen! Huh!” Richie shoved Carmy again, the anger he felt for you pouring through him.

“Why the fuck weren’t you there for her whe-.”

“Richie!” Natalie’s stern voice caused Richie to harness some of his anger. “No.” The subtle shake of her head stopped his sentence mid-thought.

“You’re worse than the shit on the bottom of my shoe, and you don’t deserve to touch one pretty little hair on that girl’s head. And if I ever have to listen to her cry over you, watch her hurt over you again, you’re gonna wish Mikey was still here to save your ass.” Richie’s hand shot out to slap against the side of Carmen’s head, “Fucking bum.”

He removed himself from Carmy’s space, hands immediately raising as he faced Nat’s exhausted stare. “Sug I’m sorry, but get Baby home will you? I gotta finish up shit round here.”

Richie left the two Berzatto siblings to stand in the now quiet front of the restaurant, the sooner he finished his shit here, the sooner he and Eva could spend the evening with you.

Natalie looked at her younger brother scared of how this sequence of events would affect him. She took a step forward hand reaching out to Carmy before dropping it, “Hey, you okay?” The two siblings stood in silence, one worried about the well-being of her remaining brother.

And the other was trying to collect his racing thoughts, too many zooming through for him to even land on one.

“Where are we with the permits?” To Carmy’s ears, it sounded like he was underwater, his voice muffled, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Carm-.” Nat’s words were cut off with no chance of consoling him.

“Just get her home Nat and get back to me on those permits please.” Natalie watched as Carmy collected his phone and jacket, an unfocused wave of his hand sent in her direction before making his way through the exit, disappearing to who knows where.

Natalie watched as the front door latched shut, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for pushing you into this environment. If she had just let you re-acclimate yourself on your own time, maybe this situation could’ve been avoided.

Her hand fell to her stomach, eyes following suit, “Welcome to the family little one.”

The sound of your doorbell constantly ringing tore your stare away from the bottle sitting on your coffee table. You sat still for a minute before remembering the plans you made with Richie earlier in the day, your eyes shooting to the bottle before you quickly moved to hide it behind one of the couch pillows.

Since Natalie dropped you off earlier you had gone back and forth with the idea of finally coming clean to Richie. Your decision was led by your emotions from earlier in the day, but after finding the bottle of champagne you received in The Tribune’s welcome basket shoved in the back of your pantry, you were sorely rethinking your decision.

You adjusted the pillow to disguise any misshapen lumps before hurrying to the door to greet your guest. Hoping the forced smile was enough you opened the door feeling the once-fake smile begin to settle into a genuine one as you took in the father-daughter duo on your porch.

“Auntie Bebe!” You laughed, a lump forming in your throat at how big the young girl seemed to have gotten.

“Little E is that you?” Eva giggled at the exaggerated gasp you let out before throwing herself against your legs squeezing you tight.

She unlatched herself from you before gripping your hand and moving into the house, “Daddy bought us pizza!”

“Hey, Eva take your shoes off.” Richie gave you a small smile as he scolded the little girl, her huff of annoyance not going unnoticed by the two of you.

Richie finally walked through the door shutting and locking it behind him staring at you as he waited for instructions, “Hey E go ahead to the living room and pick out something to watch okay? I’m gonna help your dad real quick.”

You were rewarded with her adorable smile as she ran in the direction you pointed her to. You turned back to Richie taking the two pizza boxes from his hand to allow him to remove his shoes and jacket.

The two of you made your way to the kitchen setting the boxes down on your island with a clear view of Eva scrolling through your tv. You maneuvered around the kitchen for plates before brandishing them to Richie, eyes caught on Eva’s small figure in your living room.

“She’s gotten so big,” the tears you thought had run out earlier were once again making their appearance.

Richie’s head turned to you, “Aww Baby look at you ready to cry and shit, you just saw her a year ago.”

You listened to Richie’s intoxicating laugh, trying your best to find the humor in his words. The notion was hard though when the last memory you could’ve had of the sweet little girl waiting for the two of you in the living room was holding her at a funeral that could have just as easily been yours.

“You coming Baby?” Richie’s raised brows were aimed at you, he had already made his way to the living room setting the smaller plate in front of Eva.

You cleared your throat nodding your head with a forced smile on your lips. It was settled, Richie had every right to know that there could have been a universe where he had to survive without Mikey and you.

Eva was cuddled into your side as your fingers stoked through her blonde locks, her smaller hand playing with the rings on your free hand. The two of you sat staring at the paused episode of ‘The Dragon Prince’ waiting for Richie to return from the bathroom.

Sitting with Eva in your living room made your heart heavy with what could’ve been. A small sad smile traced your lips as you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

Eva’s head turned to yours, her tongue poking out at you as you returned the gesture, the two of you going back and forth making silly faces at each other before she released a small yawn. You watched as her small hand rose to gently run her little fingers across the scars on your face.

“Auntie Bebe?” You made a small noise to let her know you were listening. “Are you going to die?”

Your brows pinched together, Eva’s hand prodded at the scar between your eyebrows that was now more prominent, “Hey hey, where is this coming from?”

Her hand lowered to her lap as she turned her attention back to your ring-clad hand. “Mommy said you were sick…like Uncle Mikey…and that you tried to be with him.”

The ache in your chest was instant, you knew Tiff had tried to explain why you hadn’t visited but you didn’t know Eva had such an understanding of everything.

She raised your hand so it was in front of the two of you, little fingers dancing across yours, “And Uncle Mikey left us 'cause he was sick and I don’t want you to leave to Bebe.”

“Little E, look at me,” you waited as she adjusted next to you small body, cuddling into you more as her face turned to you. “I was sick…just like Uncle Mikey, but I’m doing a lot better now. And I got hurt, that’s why I have these scars on my face but a lot of good people helped me, like Auntie Nat, and even your mom.”

You stopped allowing the child to digest your words, you were trying to explain things in the simplest terms, and the small girl next to you didn’t need to know any of the details. “As much as I miss Uncle Mikey I could never leave behind my Little E.”

Eva shrieked as you moved forward to tickle her doing your best to make a very tough conversation end on a light note for the sweet little girl who brought joy to your world.

“How about some ice cream, yeah?” You watched as the small girl nodded up and down excitedly, her arms coming up to wrap around your neck as she planted a small kiss on your cheek.

“I missed you, Auntie Bebe.”

Your hand reached out to ruffle the girl's hair, “I missed you too Little E.” She removed herself from around you laying across the empty couch cushions.

You let out a little laugh before grabbing the empty plates and moving to the kitchen to get Eva her ice cream. You jumped at the sight of Richie leaning against the island in your kitchen arms crossed against his chest.

“Why are you standing in my kitchen like a fucking weirdo Richie,” you laughed moving to place the plates in the sink before grabbing a bowl for the ice cream. “Eva’s okay to have ice cream right, I know it's a little late bu-”

“What the hell was Eva talking about Baby,” you looked over your shoulder Richie’s stern eyes focused on you eyes piercing through you as opposed to at you.

You sat the bowl and ice cream on the island before searching for your ice cream scooper, the silence droning on as you began scooping out ice cream for Eva.

“I fucked up Richie,” you finally looked up to Richie eyes wet with tears as you watched him tightly shut his eyes and begin shaking his head back and forth. Not prepared for what he was about to hear.

You quickly finished with ice cream, returning everything to its location and dropping the scoop in the sink before grabbing a spoon. You made your way to Eva sending her a small smile as you handed the bowl to her, “I need to talk to your daddy okay? Go ahead and finish watching without us mamas.” Your words went in one ear and out the other, her attention fully on the treat in her hands. You gave her one last smile before braving yourself for what the kitchen had in store for you.

“I uh…I was in a bad place after Chicago we had just buried Mikey and then…the hospital happened,” you stopped taking a deep breath to get through this conversation. “I should’ve come home Richie I-.” You couldn’t get the words out your throat felt like it was constricting. It felt as though if you tried confessing you would choke on the words before you could even come clean to Richie.

Richie sat next to you at your small circular dining table chair turned towards you, eyes flicking to Eva’s figure every few seconds to make sure she was okay. Richie wasn’t even sure he wanted you to continue, but a huge part of him needed to know what you went through, he thought he had already seen you at your lowest point but the gravity of your words assured him that was nothing compared to the confession you were about to lay at his feet.

“I overdosed Rich.” Richie froze having thought he hadn’t heard you correctly for a second but as he watched the despair take over your face, he knew he heard you right.

His hand came up to wipe across his mouth, the reality of your words barely setting in. “Baby no, no, no, no.” The laugh that accompanied his words morphed into a silent sob as he tucked his head into his hands.

You swallowed your cry fighting to escape as you turned to make sure Eva was still okay, a reprieve from the hard conversation you were having.

You moved from your chair standing in front of Richie so you could console him, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head settled against your stomach, the shaking of his body proof to you that cries were still wracking his body.

The silent sobs turned into quiet cries, his hands gripping the extra fabric of your shirt at the waist. Your tears could no longer be held back bending at the waist you rested your forehead against the back of Richie’s head.

While Richie was crying over the sister he almost lost; you cried over the lives you ruined.

“Auntie Bebe I finished my ice cream!” You took in a deep breath against Richie’s head moving your own from its previous position.

You moved to step out of Richie’s grip, his hands tightening around your shirt tears seeping through to dampen your skin. “I gotta help E, I promise I’ll be back Richie.”

The breath you took in choked you as you had to pry Richie’s clenched fingers out of the fabric of your shirt. You quickly wiped your cheeks before making your way over to Eva grabbing the bowl from her hands and sending her a forced smile.

“Can I spend the night Bebe?” The hope in her eyes made your chest heave.

“How about I call your mom tomorrow and we arrange something for another time, is that okay with you?” Your hands brushed across her forehead, clearing the hair from her face.

She pouted, sinking into the couch cushion, “E, hey you can come visit me whenever, but tonight just isn’t a good night for a sleepover.”

You watched as her eyes began to water, “But what if you try to leave again?” You hadn’t realized how intuitive children could be at times, you bent down to make yourself eye level with Eva.

“Listen, mamas, I’m just a phone call away okay? Anytime you’re scared I might be gone just ask your mom or dad to call me and I’ll answer every time, I promise.” Everyone knew making promises to children was a slippery slope, but you intended on keeping this promise with every ounce of your being, it was time for you to start taking some responsibility.

Eva nodded her head throwing her little arms around your neck and gracing you with a hug you weren’t aware you needed. You gave a small kiss to her temple before pulling away and setting the empty bowl on your coffee table.

“How about you lay down okay? Your dad and I might be awhile,” She nodded, moving and leaning against the pillow, her sudden weight revealing the champagne bottle you had hidden behind it, you quickly covered her with the throw blanket on your couch before picking up the bowl and bottle and making your way back to the kitchen.

You gently placed the bowl in the sink before making your way over to Richie whose head was still in his hands. His eyes found yours as he heard you take your seat, before skating across the unopened bottle you had set between the two of you.

“I’ve been sober for five months now,” watching Richie’s bloodshot eyes slowly blink at you as he drank your every word in felt like a knife being continuously shoved through your chest. “No drugs, no alcohol.” Your voice trailed off, this was the first time you had admitted your shortcomings by choice.

“Ho-How’d it happen?” Your eyes focused on Richie’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down, his face pinching together like asking that simple question was equivalent to swallowing glass.

“I uh don’t know the full story, just what the doctors told Nat and me,” you could see the hurt on his face that Nat was already privy to the information. “I didn’t tell her by choice, uh after my mom died my family kind of distanced themselves from me and so N-Nat became my power of attorney.”

He nodded his head, unfocused eyes floating around your kitchen, “Can you tell me?”

A tired sigh left you “Rich I don’t thi-,”

“I need to know Baby, please.” His hand shot out to grip yours, desperation you had never before seen seeping from his eyes.

You cleared your throat taking in a deep breath, “When I left Chicago, I just felt so…alone. It was like everywhere I looked there was either a reminder of Mikey or a reminder of…of what we lost.” Richie’s free hand returned to swipe across his mouth, eyes everywhere but you.

“The pills were prescription I…I can’t remember when I started taking them or when the dependency started but I-I know the alcohol started first. I deluded myself into thinking that I could do what Mikey couldn't…that I could numb the pain and function at the same time.

“It was like that for a while and then it just gradually got worse until I ended up hospitalized with no recollection of how I even got there and…and Natalie just crying and staring at me and the thing is I had heard those cries from her once before.” The same cries you listened to as she revealed Mikey’s fate to you.

“Um, the story is that I had been mixing drugs and alcohol which yeah I was. But that day I guess it finally went too far, for some reason I was trying to get to my patio and I guess I couldn’t figure out the door, I just…repeatedly threw myself into the glass until it shattered.” Your free hand moved unconsciously to pick at the scar lining the right side of your jaw, Richie’s hand quickly snatching it away urging you to continue your story.

“Wasn’t done yet though was I,” you looked at Richie expecting a chuckle out of him but the stoic look in his eyes told you he wasn’t in the mood for half-baked jokes. “I took two more pills and stumbled bloody through my apartment before making it out of my door and collapsing in a pool of my blood and vomit. A neighbor found me and called the ambulance.” You were glad you had no recollections of what would’ve been your final moments.

The silence in the kitchen was heavy, the words you had shared between the two of you more than anything Richie could have ever prepared himself for.

“Baby why…why didn’t you call me?” Richie’s hand covered his mouth in a fist as another cry escaped his lips wide teary eyes finally focused on yours.

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” Richie could feel his heart breaking as he listened to the crack in your voice as you spoke, you had been so scared to disappoint him that you had hidden a part of yourself for him for so long.

“How long have you been in Chicago? You avoided Richie’s gaze, not brave enough to see the look of hurt and betrayal.

“I spent a month in Wisconsin at a treatment facility, I’ve been in Chicago since December.”

“And Tiff knew about this?”

“Yeah…uh she kind of forced it out of Natalie, I guess Eva kept asking about me.” You watched as Richie’s head slowly nodded as he carefully let your words play in his head.

Richie leaned forward in his chair, elbows coming to rest on his knees as his clasped hands rested against his mouth.

“I’m not disappointed in you Baby,” Richie’s eyes rose to yours. “But I’m real fuckin hurt and the shit you just laid on me was a lot to take in but I…I want to understand and I want to be here for you.”

The tears that had subsided were now back pouring down your face in droves, “I’m so sorry Richie, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But I promise you I’m trying to be better, I will be better. I don’t think I'll get another shot at this after this one.”

Richie stood from his chair pulling you up with him, immediately tugging you into his chest hugging you tightly under the ambient kitchen lighting. He knew his hugs would never match up to Mikey’s, that his role in your life would never compare to Mikey's. But he loved you so much and learning that you had fallen victim to the same poison as Mikey made him feel like an utter failure.

Richie tilted his head down planting a kiss on the crown of your head, the saltiness of his tears passing over his lips.

What purpose did he have if he couldn’t even keep his last promise to Mikey?

Carmen’s day had come to an end hours ago but he just couldn’t get himself to fall asleep, all the words you had said to him playing over and over again in his head.

He had been so caught up in your argument that he blew his food-hopping plans off with Syd, and couldn’t even get himself to return any of the many missed phone calls he received from the number he knew to be Claire’s

Not that he even wanted to but he felt the girl deserved a proper explanation.

After leaving the restaurant and wandering the Chicago streets he found himself back where his life seemed to begin and end. Pouring what was left of him into helping the rest of the crew start the gut on the restaurant. He wasn’t proud that he let his emotions regarding your situation get the best of him, leading to an unnecessary and petty argument with Sydney. But he knew the two of them would work their issues out.

He couldn’t be sure that the same could be said for the two of you though.

The journal he had started a year ago sat open in his lap, the Polaroid he used to keep his place gently rested on his bedside table, the small lamp illuminated the two of you staring at each other eyes full of love as you wore matching smiles.

A teardrop landed on the ink-stained pages of his journal. The words he wanted to say to you easily poured out of him when he sat down to write to you. The journal began as a way for him to express what he felt for you, but as the months went on and the writing became a part of his routine they turned into letters to you he’d never have the guts to send.

His hand came up to swipe across his face before reaching for the pristine Polaroid and neatly tucking it between the designated pages. The journal was then safely placed in his bedside drawer. He knew he needed to give you space, he just wasn’t sure if there had ever been a future written in the stars for the two of you.

Picking up his phone he opened it to your newly saved contact, the need to hear your voice spilling more tears from his eyes. Your voice rang through his head as he thought about your words from earlier, Carmy couldn’t lie, he knew you loved him and had known for a while but hearing you say it aloud had finally awoken that part in him that would allow himself the pleasure of loving you back.

He couldn’t do it, couldn’t get himself to call you. A sob ripped through him as he locked his phone and set it down, the hope he had earlier to work things out with you was now gone, and he had no one left to blame but himself.

Carmy laid back in bed, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, one arm bent at a right angle to support his head. He had really and truly ruined whatever relationship was left between you two.

Carmy’s hand dipped into the collar of his tank top, gripping the small pendant he found dangling from his chain after returning home from his shift the night you made your departure from his New York apartment.

His fingers had gotten used to tracing over the initial of your first name that he proudly wore around his neck. The closest thing he even had to you now.

Carmy’s eyes watered as he raised the initial pendant to his lips, a lingering kiss pressed into it, and a whispered “I love you,” filtered through the quiet of his room.

tag list: @saturnheart @r0s3mm @wheredidmycrowngo @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @jam1esl0v4 @globetrotter28 @dankfarrick29 @flowersgirl02 @beingalive1 @fairytale07 @smoooore @ghost-timelord @xxxstormyninixxx

so i’ve reached the limit of people i can mention in a single post, i apologize if you asked to be tagged and were left off it was not intentional. i’m gonna figure something out to try and fix this…sorry : (

[whereflowerswenttodie]

houses without fathers seldom count for happy endings

[ft. gojo satoru] [angst]

you are both six when you meet satoru, megumi is six when he brings the boy and his sister to you for the first time, and it’s 6:00 pm on a mundane evening when satoru says goodbye to you.

content warning: child abuse, female reader, abandonment, implied infidelity (for minor characters), fear of commitment, religious themes, deaths, heavy angst, gojo being a huge idiot.

status: ongoing

spoilers: jjk vol. O & gojo's past arc.

chapter zero: prologue

chapter one: you bring me blue daisies and i make you flower crowns.

chapter two: the home that sheltered me was a barren battlefield.

chapter three: our tale is old: half sin, half divine (we run in circles).

chapter four: in the black of death, will you hold my hand?

chapter five: will the blue of your eyes fade away into the greys of misery?

chapter six: you bring me red roses, they wither in my hands.

chapter seven: we lay between the ocean of our love (and the mountains of our desires.)

chapter eight: the blood on my shirt belongs to death.

chapter nine: what do homes without mothers make?

a/n: this is my first fanfic. feedbacks and criticisms are always welcome and appreciated. updates can be slow, bear with me, i’ve got a messed up head (shit gets hard for me), my attention span is that of a six year old girl.

credits: @/benkeibear, @/cafekitsune

© WHEREFLOWERSWENTTODIE 2024, all kinds of modification and plagiarism are banned.

[wxnheart]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡, '𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐖𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤' 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Okay, so maybe your lovers are protective and jealous. And maybe you're a little jealous and protective yourself but y'all can't help it. It's human nature, y'know? Of course, it can get a little out of hand. A little. Blame König for that.

But of course, Simon blames you for enabling him. And you blame Simon for enabling you both. Such is love. At least you're willing to admit out loud, GHOST, that you find your lovers' protectiveness sexy. Denial is not just a river in Egypt, GHOST.

Anywho, back to your observations. Ever since you three became an item, the steps Ghost and König took to keep you safe have always fascinated you.

Of course, you're more than capable of protecting yourself but it doesn't matter. The way they see it, they're just that extra layer you need.

For example, when you're on the sidewalk, you're in the middle. Always. No, Schatz, stay away from the road.

And sometimes, one is trailing behind you and the other is in front of you. Does you a world of good when there are a lot of people out and about. And they may or may not be watching the way your hips and ass move whenever you walk.

König got really worried once when you three got 'lost' doing some routine shopping. He practically bear-hugged you when you three met back up again (when you got back home that is).

Simon is admittedly not as high-strung as König and he does his best to keep the bastard calm. He tends to flip shit internally, though.

König has what he calls his 'Schatzi Sense' ("...What the fuck?" <- Simon) and so when his Schatzi Sense is tingling, he suspects something is amiss and, if he's away, will reach out. To date, they've been pretty accurate... when it comes to Ghost that is.

Speaking of jealousy and would-be suitors, well... Simon's got König beat. He can get a bit (read: a lot) asshole-ish when he gets jealous.

However, König's anxiety goes out the window and he becomes that really gigantic, intimidating motherfucker staring the poor bastard down from a distance, stone-faced as hell. You've witnessed this before. He didn't blink. Not once. What the fuck?

Ghost will usually stare in heavy death metal and make some asshole remark. If that doesn't work (why can't the idiot read the room and realize you're happily taken?!), he'll just get real close in their personal space. Real.Close. And will stare them down until they back off. Stupid bastard.

König has been known to carry your ass away, too, fireman's style. Simon is usually trailing behind in case the motherfucker needs a reminder that you belong to THEM. May or may not have done this to Simon a couple times, too, and Ghost.exe stopped working. His dick got hard as fuck, though.

You thought having a badass-looking dog would keep the suitors at bay but if anything, it's done the opposite. Little Lola can't help that she's so cute everybody wants to pet her. Goes doubly so because her ears aren't cropped.

They will fight for your honor outside, preferably in the alleyway (because fighting in a public bathroom would be nasty as fuck). If 'come outside, we just wanna talk' were people, they would be it.

There's a local bar you three like to chill at. One time, a patron sent a drink your way. Simon took it, downed it in one go, and afterward stared the patron down, daring him to do that shit again.

[kookstempo]

in the end, it's him and i - jjk

pairing(s): taehyung x reader if u squint, jungkook x reader, brief mentions of namjoon x oc

genre(s): fluff and smut.

word count: 5.4K

warnings: some strong language, both jungkook and y/n being idiots lol. for the spicy content: fingering in front of a mirror, dirty talk, praise, mentions of an erection. (hope i'm not forgetting anything).

summary: how long will it take until the dam bursts and one of you says what the other one longs to hear?

masterlist

A/N: i gotta thank my beautiful @daechwitatamic because she's always there to help me, she read this SO FAST (wtf). pls go check her profile <3

he had grown so used to it that he kept looking for it the first time you stopped doing it. with a silent, simple tug on your shirt or a whine whenever you’d cut the hugs or kisses a second short. full of hesitance, you’d simply wrap your arms around him tightly, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath; you’d cup his jaw with your slightly tremorous hand, pulling him to your mouth again as he had wordlessly begged you to.

meanwhile, for you? you noticed it that time he held your wrist as you walked behind him between the crowd. his touch had never meant anything special outside the bedroom, until that night. he had made you feel a thousand things in mere seconds, your heart lighting up the same way the buildings’ lights lit up the street. it was amazing how something as basic as holding one’s wrist had helped you put the puzzle pieces together. suddenly, it made sense how you kept running away from his touch when possible, skipping reunions where you knew he would be.

because your heart couldn’t handle the truth. it couldn’t bear knowing that jeon jungkook only belonged to you behind closed doors, between messy sheets and underclothed bodies, where only whispered pleas were welcomed and not love confessions, nothing but lust. and as much as it hurt, it only hurt more trying to deprive yourself of him.

“y/n?” his voice calls, warm hand finding its place on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze.

“i’m sorry, yes you can press play.” placing your hand on top of his, you give it a squeeze back and lean backwards on the couch, looking for a way to ease your internal discomfort by getting comfortable externally.

“it’s been rolling for at least seven minutes, angel…” he trails off, not being able to take his eyes off your constant fidgeting with the blanket you were sharing. “are you okay?” 

“mhm,” was the only thing that left your throat, making sure it came with a reassuring - yet very fake - smile to ease the tension. everything screamed that he didn’t believe you, knowing him well enough to notice it was a huge effort from him to stay quiet and not ask any more questions. jungkook thought it was best to let you be. maybe his touch was offending you? or was it the pet names he had decided to use for you as they were worth it only for you? one thing you hadn’t managed to notice, though, was the fact that his hands were the fidgety ones now. they were itching to pull you closer to him and wrap his arms around your waist like you’re used to every movie night.

“it was hilarious because taehyung was complaining about her, talking about how she had eaten the last donut and that it was his favorite flavour and he hadn’t eaten a single one. suddenly, she enters the office and you just hear him go: ‘good morning, miranda!’” tone chirpy and mocking, seokjin tells the story from his point of view, not being able to hold back the cackles that leave his lips.

“taehyung! i didn’t know you despised her that much.” covering your mouth, unlike seokjin, you giggle quietly.

“i just know you wouldn’t have done that to me, you would’ve defended that donut with your last breath,” the aforementioned man rolls his eyes, head resting on your shoulder as a pout rests on his lips.

“i’ve already apologized thrice. i was in a meeting, okay?” you shake your head as a smile slowly makes its way onto your face, looking down at taehyung and ruffling his hair.

"you look like you want to explode his head." yoongi whispers, next to jungkook who’s been looking at your interaction with a clenched jaw and his tongue prodding his cheek.

"i'm trying." jungkook admits, glaring at taehyung like he had just insulted his family when all he was doing was acting cute with you. with a forkful of pasta into his mouth, he decides to take his eyes off you, knowing deep inside him it was useless feeling like that when you were coming home with him at the end of the evening. or that’s what he hoped.

“anyone up for dessert? i am full, but my sweet tooth is asking me for that cheesecake i read on the menu. i’m willing to share.” looking around for someone wanting to share the creamy dessert with you, you lean forward, resting your weight on your forearms.

“me, me! i’ve been eyeing that cheesecake since we arrived, too.” taehyung chirps, eagerly raising his hand to call the waitress’ attention. his eagerness is short-lived, though, since jungkook speaks up.

“i want cheesecake, too. you think i could share with the two of you?” 

“uh… let me ask the waitress how big the slice is.” shooting jungkook a tiny smile, you turn your attention to the kind waitress who is expectant.

in the end, you two do end up sharing the slice with jungkook, as it turned out he only wanted “a couple of spoonfuls” of the dessert. he is not a cheesecake guy, which makes you wonder what had caused him to suddenly crave some of the dessert.

leaving your bills to pay your part of the check, you get up and walk to the restroom, letting everyone know they could head out if done before you came back. they tend to complain about how long you take in the restroom, and knowing jungkook is waiting for you to ride together, you make sure you hurry.

your memory sometimes fails you. and one of those cases is tonight as you can’t seem to locate jungkook or his car. letting your legs lead you to where you think you might be able to find him, you recognize taehyung’s back and hair. he might know where jungkook is.

“for god’s sake, dude. just confess your fucking feelings for her,” taehyung groans at the younger man’s behavior, covering his face.

that sentence alone makes you halt, leaning back against the brick wall so they can’t see you. eavesdropping is not appropriate, but right this moment it feels like it is. 

has he had feelings for someone else this whole time he’s been fucking you? are you his go-to option when he needs it?

“what are you talking about? we were talking about cheesecake and now you’re telling me i should confess to y/n?” jungkook scoffs, about to walk away when taehyung grabs his wrist, preventing him from leaving. 

“you don’t get all whiny over cheesecake, jeon. all it took was me saying i wanted to share dessert with her for you to go all ‘oh i want dessert, too’ when you weren’t even halfway done with your pasta. you kept giving me death stares if i even breathed around her.” 

“whatever,” jungkook laughs, a little too loud for his liking, making him scrunch his nose. “i’m not going to confess my feelings just because of some cheesecake.” he mocks taehyung in the last word, carefully releasing his wrist from the man’s grip, walking to the car.

does that mean… no, he never confirmed it. 

“jungkook!” you call him, jogging to where he is, “are we still on for tonight? you were about to leave without me.” you adjust your purse that’s almost falling off your shoulder, rocking back and forth on your tiptoes.

“yeah, i’ve been looking forward to it all night,” he confesses, pulling you closer to his body by your waist. one of his hands removes your purse from your body, the other cupping your cheek. “you ready?”

“yeah! bye, tae-tae,” you wave at the man, flashing him a smile before getting inside the car.

the traffic at this hour is never heavy, if anything, it’s the best it’s ever been. the wind coming from outside is making you get goosebumps, but it’s nothing jungkook’s hand on your leg can’t provide relief to.

his phone lights up just as you’re reaching the last traffic light before his house.

taehyung [21:02]: i’m pretty sure she heard us talking. just so you know.

jungkook scans his phone screen, reading the text quickly before shutting off the device and placing it somewhere else where it won’t distract him.

“what did tae want?” you ask, tilting your head. 

“nothing important,” he murmurs, tone leaving no room for discussion as he speeds off once the traffic light turns green. “is it my turn to pick the movie tonight?” trying to change the topic, jungkook squeezes your thigh and parks the car smoothly, but doesn’t get out yet.

“uh, i think? but maybe i can bribe you with some kisses? there’s this movie i really wanna watch,” you confess, leaning over the console once your seatbelt is off, your face dangerously close to his.

“bribing me, huh? okay, hit me with your best shot,” he smirks, hungrily latching his lips to yours, hands holding your cheek softly - the perfect juxtaposition to the way he laps at your mouth.

the kiss rides like a wave - intense when needed, but also soft at times, steadying you and leaving you craving for more. more him, more jungkook, all the time. 

“mmm get inside before i change my mind,” jungkook whispers against your lips, already chasing them for more, but you’re quicker than him, getting out of the car and using your set of keys to unlock the door.

he seems pretty compliant tonight, agreeing to everything you say, letting you kiss him all you want even if you had bribed him already to choose the movie… yet he never complains, never says anything about how you’re not paying attention to the movie, eating at him or his snacks.

“did you bring your pajamas this time?” jungkook turns to look at you, moving some strands of hair off your face so he can look at the blush that’s starting to cover your cheeks. “i’m gonna take that as a no.” he snickers at your pretty much silent response, pausing the movie and pulling you to his lap.

“i keep forgetting them. i don’t really use them around you, but they’re pretty and comfortable,” a pout takes over your lips, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“i mean, i’m never against seeing you in my clothes. but you gotta start remembering to pack your pajamas, y/n.” jungkook carefully secures an arm around your waist as he moves to take off his shirt, letting it rest on your lap once taken off. “put it on. let’s get our pajamas on and then we’ll continue with the movie, sounds good?”

you nod, giving his nose a tiny kiss, enough to hear him chuckle and make you leave with a smile on your face. the floor feels cold under your bare feet as you make your way to the bathroom next to his room; the night is chilly enough that you already know you’re gonna be seeking jungkook’s body warmth throughout the night since you tend to get cold pretty easily.

it's almost like your heart is inside a cage and fighting to be set free the second jungkook's fingers trace your curves. every square inch of your body responds to him - blushing, smiling, getting goosebumps. your body knows better than your mind. and as much as you try to tell yourself that you don't have feelings for him, you do. you hope he does, too.

slipping the cotton material over your body, you look at your reflection on the mirror, adjusting the shirt so it covers your body the most it can. his shirt smells like him, like the cologne that drives you crazy and can’t get enough of. a knock interrupts your train of thought, and you open the door for him to come in as you move away from the door to collect your clothes and fold them.

“wanna know something funny?” is the first thing jungkook says as he sees you, leaning against the door frame, shamelessly eyeing your figure.

“what’s up?” you turn to him, looking at him as you finish folding your pants, recognizing the hunger in his stare but saying nothing about it.

“as i was getting dressed this morning, i kept picturing you in my clothes every time i picked out a shirt,” he starts, taking a few steps to be closer to you. “wondering which shirt of mine would look best on you. but now…” his tongue wets his lip, removing the pants from your hands and putting them next to the sink.

“n-now?” you murmur dumbly, waiting for him to keep talking.

“i think i picked it for another reason.” he pulls you closer to his body by the shirt, cradling your face in his hands. “i think i picked what shirt to wear based on what i wanted you to wear as i fucked you. or as i took it off your body.” he simply states, moving one hand down to your neck. he doesn’t even bother to apply pressure on it, he just lets his hand rest there.

"so what are you gonna do? are you gonna keep it on or should we take it off?" you trace the ink on his forearm, moving your head to place a kiss on his palm.

"wouldn't want you getting cold, would we?" his hands move you in mere seconds, letting your pelvis rest against the edge of the vanity, right in front of the mirror. 

you can see him, can see the way he puts your hair up in a messy ponytail so he has space to scatter kisses around your neck, decorating it with a couple of marks. your hands replace his on your hair, holding it up the way he wants it. jungkook hums, pleased, while you quietly gasp when his hands move to your inner thighs, making you spread them wider so his hands can roam freely where they want to.

“mmm, good girl.” he praises, his fingers leaving feather-like touches on your clothed cunt before they wrap around the waistband of your underwear. jungkook crouches down as he removes them, leaving a trail of kisses on your legs, too. 

“no matter,” he starts, hugging you by the waist once he’s back to his full height, “how hard i try, you’re always on my mind. it’s not fair.” 

“it’s as fair as it can be. you’re always on mine, too,” you whisper to him, almost like you’re telling him a secret, even if it’s just the two of you in the room. 

maybe it is a secret with the way you’re baring your heart to him by saying that.

silence follows your words, filling your chest with something close to restlessness. had it been too much? did you cross the line with your words? your gaze moves to the floor, enjoying his embrace the most you can because you’re sure he’s gonna step away–

“look at me. not at my reflection, but at me,” he orders, and you’re surprised by the way you quickly obey, without second thoughts.

“what’s going on in that little head of yours, angel?” jungkook whispers, hovering your lips, giving you space to talk freely.

jungkook’s not sure what just happened. he is sure, though, that with the way your expression fell in that moment, he doesn’t wanna see that again, ever. the sincerity in your eyes when you confessed that he’s constantly in your mind too had made him feel… something. not sure what to make of it, but with a persistent thought in his head:

taehyung was right.

“i want you.” you respond after a while, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. your nose nudges his playfully, a grin on your mouth rapidly replaced by his lips on yours.

jungkook kisses you as if he’s never going to see you again, feeling lonely when your mouth’s not on his, when your body is half an inch further than he’d like it to be. his lips chase yours, they chase the sweet, lingering taste of the chamomile tea you had drank during the movie.

the movie. he doesn’t even know what the fuck it had been about since he was just thinking about you, when you were next to him the whole time. what if taehyung found the way to your heart and stole you from him? he should confess, shouldn’t he?

at least he’s past the denial phase. 

your confession should be more than enough for him to know you probably feel the same too. unless you’re constantly thinking about him because you’re needy, because you want him. 

deciding to shove those thoughts away, he pulls away from the kiss, pushing you with a hand on your back so your chest is against the vanity, making you hiss at its coldness.

“thought you were gonna fuck me with it on,” you confess, angling your hips so they’re slightly lifted. you rest your chin on your forearms, finding a comfortable position; you know you’ll be here for a long time before he fucks you. 

“tsk, who says i’m not? don’t be greedy,” he tsks, running his cold hands over the warm skin of your butt, squeezing it a little. “i don’t think i’ve ever fucked you in front of a mirror, have i?”

“nuh-uh. there’s always a first time with you.”

there’s this side to you that only comes out when jungkook’s around. he knows who you truly are and helps you express that side, a judgment-free zone if you will. if restlessness ever clouds your thoughts, a look from jungkook is all you need for everything to quiet down and dissipate.

“keep your eyes on me, or i’ll stop.” jungkook leans down to leave a trail of kisses on your upper back, allowing you to feel his hard-on right on your butt. “y/n.” biting down on your skin, hard enough to leave a tiny mark, he tilts his head when you only blink at him, whining desperately. “did you hear what i said?”

“yeah, yeah, not taking my eyes off you,” you reply, gripping the counter as his fingers make contact with your now-bare cunt, collecting your wetness before easing two fingers in one go.

every drag of his fingers inside you manages to turn you into a moaning mess, legs trembling because of his touch, eyes trained on his just like he expected. it takes a huge effort from you to not close your eyes once he curls his fingers, aiming for your g-spot.

“look so pretty bent over the sink for me, aren’t you my pretty girl?” he whispers, hot breath fanning in your ear as the fingers from his free hand move to rub your clit, enjoying the way he can tell you’re about to lose it. when jungkook has you like this, you let your inhibitions get lost. your body trusts jungkook, feeling safe under him, letting him do whatever he wants to you because you know he would never hurt you.

it’s about time your heart trusts him, too.

you manage to nod, trying to keep your eyes open as he instructed you to. the sound of your whimpers and loud moans fill the bathroom; as jungkook pulls you by the hair so your back is against his chest, you lean your head on his shoulder, turning your head so you can kiss his neck.

“words, princess. let me hear you say it.” he requests, slowing his thrusts as he expects your reply.

“i-i’m your pretty g-girl. i’m jungkook’s pretty girl,” you whine, hips having a mind of their own and rutting against his hand to get some more friction.

“what was that? i’m sure you can be louder. no need to be shy.” he pouts, smirking condescendingly right after he angles his palm so your clit rubs against it, thumb wiping the fallen tears on your cheeks.

“i’m your pretty girl, fuck! jungkook, please. i need you.” moving your head to face him through the mirror, your hands grip his forearms in order to control yourself. “yours, all yours. just– take me, please.”

he takes his sweet time with you that night, reminding you that you’re his, and reassuring himself he’s not gonna lose you. even if the voices in his head wouldn’t shut up about how he could lose you any second, the way your hands reach out for him so you can hold him a little longer, how you won’t stop showering him with kisses as your eyes struggle to stay open because of how tired he has left you… 

eventually, sleep wins the fight. you pull the blanket jungkook got you closer to your body, scooting closer to his body - his chest has always been more comfortable to you than a pillow - and clinging to him like a koala. 

he can’t take his eyes off you. you’re laying there, asleep, and he feels like you’ve cast a spell on him. when jungkook used to think about you, he’d either picture you naked or as someone who’d be there unconditionally like the great friend you are. 

however, now? he cannot focus on anything other than your lips and how he yearns to kiss them over and over again just to hear your muffled, angelical giggles; how your body feels meant to be next to his like two puzzle pieces.

despite the fact that everyone can see how much time you two spend together, they know you’re not dating. they know about your - basically - best friends-with-benefits relationship, leaving both of you on the market. all that jungkook can think about is changing everyone’s line of reasoning from “they’re fucking” to “they’re dating”, they’re in a relationship”.

yeah, he’s screwed.

he feels like his heart is gonna explode, and he tries to convince himself with all of his might that it’s because of the way you look tonight and not because of taehyung’s arm around your waist as you both move to the table you got assigned for tonight. if he could rip it off your body, he would, but the weight of someone else’s body on his arm reminds him you’re not his date, this other girl is. he’s walking with somebody else, too, so he has to keep it together for the sake of jimin’s party. 

when jimin sent the invitation to the group chat, both of you felt excited and had already started to plan what you’d wear, who was going to drive who, and what you two were going to gift him. the conversation fell when you reached the bottom of the invitation, where in bold, it said: remember to bring a date!

sure, it said other things, but that was all both of you could focus on.

“so… uh, you and i are not dating–” 

“yeah,” you squeak, interrupting jungkook. “we aren’t, so we should find a date, right?”

“yup, you could go with taehyung! he’d love that,” jungkook lets out an insincere laugh, keeping himself busy with another app to stop thinking about how badly he wanted to be your date. 

fast forward to today and jealousy is eating him alive. that night, he had texted jimin privately, asking him to sit you at another table in order to keep his feelings controlled, to be able to spend time with leslie, his date for the party. now, he doesn’t know if it was a good idea. 

you two fit perfectly together, he realizes. he’s mesmerized by you, the color of your dress suits your skin incredibly well and he finds himself smiling when he sees the way you grin at the others at your table, greeting them quickly in order to continue listening to whatever taehyung is telling you.

right, taehyung. 

he’s one second away from getting up, chair in hand, to sit between the two of you because he can’t stand one of his closest friends taking his place, talking to his girl. 

“is everything okay?” leslie asks, noticing jungkook’s clenched jaw and tight grip on the tablecloth. 

“what? yeah, why do you ask?” he turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed together subconsciously. he’s quick to soften his gaze, moving his chair so it’s closer to leslie’s.

“you seemed… angry, i don’t know. if something’s bothering you, we can leave,” she suggests, wrapping a hand around his wrist, trying to intertwine her fingers with his.

“the party hasn’t even started,” he scoffs, pressing his lips together right after. “sorry, i’ll keep it in mind, okay? i’m just a little distracted, had a small situation at work before coming here, that’s why i was late.”

because he was certainly not debating whether he should go to the party if it meant seeing you with somebody else. nah, not at all.

jungkook manages to keep his feelings at bay for the second half of the night. almost like the situation had been flipped around since you’re the one about to lose it now. 

the food was delicious, taehyung kept making you laugh every now and then with his funny stories and bad jokes, you had also met namjoon’s girlfriend, kimberly. everything was sailing smoothly. jungkook who?

that was, of course, until he and his date joined the other couples on the dancefloor. you feel like they’re dancing on top of your table, too close for your liking. too close to you, too close to each other. leslie keeps laughing like a teenager in love at prom; at this point, you think he’s a second away from kissing her if you don’t do something soon. taehyung’s deep in conversation with jimin, so that leaves you without your dance partner.

almost as if he’d read your mind, jimin stands up and pulls the two of you to the dancefloor. taehyung moves his free arm to be able to reach your hand, making sure you don’t get lost in the crowd. bingo, you think to yourself, standing up and reaching for his hand, securing your grip on his.

“i love this song, i was about to interrupt your conversation,” you confess, taking advantage of the position you’re in now that taehyung spun you around to the rhythm of the music to peek around the room, trying to locate jungkook. 

your eyes meet his almost instantly, your gaze changing from soft to something close to “did i interrupt something?” when you see how close leslie’s mouth is to his. jungkook steps away from her at breakneck speed, making you smirk now that your line of sight is not infected. you don’t mind taehyung pulling you closer to his body if it means giving jungkook a taste of his own medicine. besides, his grip feels snug. 

“didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” taehyung’s warm breath in your ear startles you.

“we’ve never had the privilege of dancing together, have we?” the music is loud enough, almost like you’re in a club, making you lean to talk in his ear too.

you don’t step away or move your head when taehyung cups your cheek and makes you look at him, not even when he tilts his head and his eyes flutter shut, lips mere inches away from yours. 

“y/n, i think i left my gift in your car, can we go get it?” jungkook’s voice is heard out of nowhere, making taehyung jump and step away from you.

“but we didn’t even r–”

“now,” he growls, reaching for your hand.

there’s a tiny window open for you to refuse if you don’t want to listen to him. jungkook could be filled with rage, but he’d never force you to do something you don’t feel like doing. the moment you take your hand in his, he leads you to the hallway, hoping you two could have a decent conversation.

“this is not the way to the parking lot, i should’ve guessed you were bringing me somewhere else since we didn’t ride together, but i still don’t understand what we’re doing–”

you’re hotly interrupted by jungkook. “were you about to kiss taehyung?”

“were you about to kiss leslie before i caught you redhanded?” you closely scrutinize his body language. 

he is not going to put the blame on you, oh hell no.

“i think i asked you first, y/n. were you, or were you not?” he questions you again, tongue prodding his cheek.

“last time i checked, you’re not blind. you definitely saw my lips hovering over his, his hands on my waist, my chest pressed to his…” you trail off, biting your lip to contain the smirk that’s about to take place on your lips.

“if you were so okay with him kissing you, why did you get all bothered by me being close to leslie? if i recall correctly, she was standing close to me like this,” he pulls you to him by the waist, wrapping your arms around his neck. “and i was here…” he leans down, about to kiss you until you push him off you.

“if you wanna go kiss her, just go. sorry i interrupted your majestic movie scene with my jealousy.” it escapes your mouth before you could even think twice about it. your arms, that were still wrapped around his neck, leave his body in order for you to be able to cover your mouth.

“what was that? i’m sure you can be louder. no need to be shy.” he uses the same sentence he uttered the other day in his bathroom, enjoying the way you get all flustered. 

“imma go shove my tongue down taehyung’s throat. this is a waste of time.” you spit, eyeing him up and down before turning around and taking a couple of steps.

“over my dead body, get the fuck back here and kiss me,” he practically growls, making you halt in your steps.

“not so cool picturing the other person about to kiss someone else who’s not you, is it?” you reply, back still turned to him.

“i was not joking when i said you should kiss me. i was also not joking when i called you my pretty girl the other day.” 

that makes you turn to look at him. 

“it was the heat of the moment, don’t twist your words.” you’re able to recognize when jungkook is bullshitting his way through life, and you hope this is not one of those moments because that is the closest thing you’re ever gonna get to a confession coming from him.

“i’m not.” he simply states, walking up to you. “if what you felt tonight was indeed jealousy, then i’m not ashamed to say i’ve spent the whole night imagining it was me holding your hand in front of everyone, holding you close, making you laugh and dancing so close to you.”

“why now?” you ask, deciding to break the one-step barrier between the two of you, being able to spit one question out of the thousand in your head.

“because i hated seeing someone else take my place, and i’ve tried to hide it. i’ve tried to ignore these feelings, but i can’t anymore.” he gulps, throwing his head back in exasperation. “my date, you were supposed to be my date. not leslie.”

“why didn’t you say something?” 

“why didn’t you say something?” jungkook returns the question, obviously a nervous mess because of your interrogation.

“look, can we pretend i never mentioned i felt jealous? it was stupid and useless and this conversation’s going nowhere.” typical you trying to escape everything that seems complicated.

“too bad, y/n. because i’m not letting you go so easily now that i know you feel the same way.” 

before you know it, jungkook’s kissing you. if he’s kissed you before, this kiss makes you forget all those previous kisses. nothing feels better than the way jungkook leaves you breathless just by licking your bottom lip, or the way he breaks the kiss for a nanosecond before tilting his head to deepen the second best kiss you’ve ever had. 

the need for air becomes predominant, making you reluctantly step away from him. jungkook is quick to chase your mouth, eyes still closed and a low whine leaving his mouth.

“mmm. let’s go home, ‘kay?” you giggle, cupping his face like he usually does to you.

“i’ll follow you everywhere, y/n.” 

pls don't be a silent reader! i love reading your reactions <3 hope u enjoyed.

just wanna thank everyone for the reblogging, likes, and even follow!! love y’all 🥰

[achromant]

AND HERE WE ARE! My project for the gw2 'zine!

Featuring Baruhn, reflecting on his life so far, the challenges, the small sparks of joy, the horrors, loss and gain.

For clarification's sake; I did in fact plan to depict every stage of Baruhn's life, but uuh. File was already too big.

Might do a series of short comics (graphic novels?) though, because i fking love storytelling.

Let's look at my idiotic level of detail a bit, eh?

[Long Text Ahead]

Baruhn's story begins in the Plains of Ashford. An unsuccessful attempt to stem the tide of Ascalonian Ghosts leads to the demise of many year-long allies. Dozens of brave soldiers gave their life for a mere week of peace until the ghosts reformed. They always do. Soldiers don't.

Shaken in his faith in the Legions, the first seeds of doubt arise.

Until finally he found someone to trust with his pain. In a tavern at the edge of the Black Citadel, he gets to know this odd fellow, who is continuosly follow by the faint smell of sulfur. Although Baruhn knew where that path led, the warmth radiating from the old veteran in front of him was not only a physical, but an emotional one.

With the Three Legions busy with their internal quarrels, fighting over an empty promise, Baruhn took the first steps down a previously thought to be dark path.

Surprisingly, die Flame Legion was welcoming, their fires offered light and guidance, the embers igniting the skies like stars. Surely this was better than the cold metal over the Black Citadel.

Baruhn took to learning first, handling the small flames with ease after years of throwing fireballs at ghostly shapes. Then, he figured out how to teach, and that is where the real magic comes from. Nurturing a flame, protecting it from harsh winds, adding a bit of kindling and coal here and there. He even taught the more elusive ways of magic that wield smoke and ash.

Baruhn knew about the war, the countless lifes lost on the other side of the fence. But those were humans, and here he was among family.

That is, until he met Molly.

After a small recon mission that was assured not to be much of a hurdle, Baruhn found himself alone in a forest. The small fires he conjured for light and warmth only drew in the nearby villagers. Those with pitchforks and torches, with crude swords and a thirst for blood. He couldn't really bring himself to hate them, this was war after all. But at what cost are these battles to be won?

Trying to escape the villagers was a futile attempt. He sank to the ground, his own hot blood dousing the little flames beneath his weary head.

For some reason - maybe hope, maybe resignation - he forced open his heavy eyes, only to discover his wounds cleaned and bandaged with fragile white cloth. A small human girl, of all things in this damned forest, tried to help. Even in his weakened state, even with just one hand, Baruhn could have easily grabbed her and cracked her skull. But the only thing he did was listen. He listened to the ramblings of the small human, going on and on about faries made of leaves and gnomes of stone. She called him "bear".

When the villagers came, they saw the girl at his side. That was all it took for them to turn on her. She was to be executed like that beast that now slowly stepped in front of her. For the first time, Baruhn spoke to the girl. "close your eyes."

Fire roared, not red, not orange. not a warm, welcoming fire. Not one that belongs in a hearth, that thrives in the arms of a family. This was so much worse. This was years of inner conflict, of doubt, of closing his eyes on the other side of the fence. For the first time in his life, this was the only thing that he wanted to do, protect the little insignificant human behind him. Fire roared, and it burned wood and it burned flesh.

Baruhn picked up the little girl, she held tight to his horns, nestled in his mane. He ran for hours, years of military training finally useful. The little girl, Molly, lost her mother years ago. She burned in the fires of a war she tried to escape. "And your father? What about your family?", he asked between deep breaths. Molly was quiet for a while, then whispered, her voice barely audible, "My father burned today."

They stayed together, for quite a while. He protected her, and she, with her head full of stories, and a book full of dreams, protected him.

Things came, things went. Baruhn rejoined the High Legions, acting as a spy for Ash, keeping an eye on Iron and Blood.

Baruhn ultimately took on his role as Novice, then Archivist, then Commander. He helped during the struggles against Scarlet. A small flame here and there, some shrouding smoke, a well timed lightning strike. It was other people that finally defeated Scarlet, but he was always in the background, with all the small things at just the right time.

Mordremoth came, but with him new allies.

It was but a small tangent in the grand scheme of things. Watching the fragile sapling while waging war on the jungle itself.

Their relation was something more than friendship, something else than love. They were there for each other when they needed to be. Be it only to keep a flame burning or to banish the voices to the back of the head again, they walked the same path for a long time.

Tarir, the Egg. Aurene. A new flame entrusted to him, his to nurture, his to raise. A gamble, again. What if that little flame would some day devour the world? But Baruhn did, what he could do best. Teach.

Darker times came. Caudecus and the White Mantle. The raid on the Mursaat's prison. Then facing the last Mursaat himself.

Balthazar came, and in his wake a new kind of fire. A war, similar to the ones Baruhn had seen before, but still different. A war without a cause, war for war's sake. War against nature, against the world, like a child lashing out when there were none to help them up. Maybe Balthazar's flames were not too different from his.

After the festering swamp that Joko was, came the mountain, Kralkatorrik. Death was not a hindrance anymore, not for the Commander and his dragon. The story went as the story goes.

When it came to face the frost, the whispers, Jormag. Everything fell apart. Jormag pried into the deepest, darkest corners of Baruhn's life, dragged every doubt, small as it may have been, into the light. In the ice, every truth was warped, encased in whispers, in lies. It suffocated any hope and planted even darker seeds than anyone thought possible.

It was the spirit of the Raven that aided Baruhn. Even the black feathers of its wings were shimmering like rainbows in the moonlight.

A small piece stayed with him, just a fragment. Nevermore.

After that, the stars themselves. Astralaria.

So many stories that make a life, so many pieces. Every encounter, every step along the way is another fragment of the whole. People are made of other people, that is what it means to be alive.

[alexa-fika]

Hey, hey I wondering of you can Goldie from the newer Puss and boots movie x Whitebeard pirate. But imagine instead of goldie meeting the bears when she was a child and using all of the bear family stuff she instead uses the Whitebeard pirates stuff and like they found her sleeping in Ace bed because in the the original story she was in the youngest bear bed and Ace is the youngest of the crew. How does she react? How do the Whitebeard pirates react?

Second if this one is better

Goldie from newer movie x whitebeard pirates. But instead she is a teenager and she had already grown with the bear family but she got seperated from her bear family when the area in the whising star took her away from her dimension and she lands on the Whitebeard ship. How does she react? How do the Whitebeard pirates react?

Thank you sm if you answer this or do this, Im sorry if its to much you can pick one of the scenario wich is more to your liking. ♡♡♡

Unexpected Reasons ( Whitebeard x f!child!reader)

A/N Here we gooo, am I the only one with a crush on goldilocks, that woman is gorgeous anyhow, I decided to go with your first prompt, im not sure if to call this a cook or a flop what do you guys think

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

"What the hell?" muttered Haruta, looking around the commander's quarters, which now lay in disarray. Various commanders commenting on the absence of some of their belongings.

"Did we get ransacked?" Questioned Ace

"No one would dare ransack Whitebeard, much less its mother ship; it doesn't hold water, idiot," Thatch scoffed.

"That last part was unneeded," he snapped, glaring at the chef.

" Ya pitchin' a fit?" he piped back a grin on his face.

"Cut it out, both of you-yoi," Marco Sighed.

"Perhaps it was Stefan. We were gone for a few days, and the lad was most surely angered at us leaving for such a long time," Vista Mused.

"We leave this room locked; he couldn't have gotten inside, not to mention Stefan is quite the behaved canine; I do not see him capable of this," Izou answered, frowning at the lack of his crimson obi amongst his things.

"Where is Stefan?" Thatch questioned

"Haven't seen the furball since we came back"

Their conversation is soon interrupted by the sound of ruffling; they all turn to the bed in front of them, and the covers draped over a lump on the mattress begin to shift.

"So it was you...Stefan," Ace exclaimed, stomping his way to his bed and uncovering the bed to reveal said canine. His words, however, paused as the crew's dog was not the only one lying on the bed.

"What is it-yoi?" Marco questioned walking next to the freckled man only to stop and stare in a manner not much different from Ace himself, the rest of the commanders mirrored their expressions as they stared at the child lying down on the bed, hugging Stefan close to her a familiar obi wrapped around her for additional warmth

"Well, I'll be; Pops is going to have the time of his life with this one," Thatch said, breaking out of his shocked state and grinning at the girl, who began to shift. She rubbed her eyes as she sat in the bed, letting out a giggle as Stefan began to jump on her, licking her face in greeting.

Izou smiles, gently scooping up the child into his arms.

"Hi there, who might you be?" he questioned 

"I'm Dokucha!" She grins up at him

"You seem to have something of mine," he commented, gesturing to the crimson obi wrapped around her.

"It's pretty and soft," she smiles, nuzzling further into the silk, receiving a soft, amused hum from the sniper.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's comfy!"

Marco looked at the girl, letting out an amused laugh at her simplistic answer.

"You broke into a galleon belonging to pirates because you thought it would be comfortable."

"No!" she laughed, seemingly finding the idea entertaining.

"Well that's goo-

"It was because I liked the whale. It's so cute!" she exclaimed, interrupting Ace's words as she threw her hands in the hair at her proclamation.

"..."

"..."

Ace lets out a slight snicker that soon turns into uncontrolled laughter, soon spreading to the rest of the commanders.

"Hey, dokucha, how would you like living in the cute whale?" Thatch questioned looking at the small girl

"Do I get to be with the puppy?" She questions with a slight tilt of her head

"Do you mean Stefan?" Izou questioned, gesturing to the terrier who was pawing at his arms, trying to get to the girl once again 

She nods, laughing gleefully as the dog leaps into Izou's arms, continuing his barrage of kisses on the girl.

"Well, we know how Stefan feels-yoi," Marco laughs.

What do we think? That ending was kinda sudden so im kinda eh about it, what are we thinking?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[samkerrworshipper]

togetherness pt.3 | matilda’s x reader

lowkey have come to detest this series chase i started it in first person and i no longer write in that format butttt some of yall want it so i have to supply 🤷‍♀️

warnings/themes: self harm implications, talks of past sexual abuse, lots of trauma, comfort, just general sadness tbh

As we pulled up to our own hotel Sam and Steph were smiling like idiots, joking about something or another. I was lost in thought, thinking about everything that had just happened. My haze was cut short though as my door was opened for me and Sam stood on the outside, waiting for me to hop out. I unclicked my seatbelt hurriedly before climbing out of the car and ducking behind the car to grab my bag quickly. My coping mechanism was to grab my phone out of my pocket and to start to scroll through it as I waited on Sam and Steph to collect their own things. My phone was my social crutch, when I felt awkward it was what I leant to.

“Kiddo, let’s go?”

My head was pulled from my phone as I came to the realisation Sam and Steph had both collected their belongings and were walking towards the front of the hotel, Steph passing her car keys off to the valet. I scurried after the two older women, my behaviour was oddly skittish and I was sure the both of them were picking up on it.

We flashed our ID cards at the front desk before making our way into the team front room where we left our kit bags, just so there was no confusion of them in the rooms. We all individually stowed away our bags, collecting whatever essentials we needed from our bags before leaving them in their spots for the night. I grabbed my drink bottle, my airpods and my ugg boots from my bag before walking over to the food table, it was the table where they left all the snacks that were there to be taken at any time of the day. I picked up a packet of gummy bears instead of a granola bar, Leah wouldn’t have been happy with my switch but I wasn’t eating a granola bar so it was an improvement?

After grabbing the bag of gummy bears, filling up my water bottle and grabbing a bottle of gatorade I followed Steph and Sam towards the elevators, waiting patiently as they clicked the button for our floor. They conversed between the two of them as we went up in the elevator, just general stuff.

“So Y/n/n, we’ll go get Steph’s stuff and we’ll bring it into your room and we’ll move whatever of your stuff is there into my room, okay?”

I nodded at Sam, excepting that this was happening.

As the doors opened I found myself following behind them as they walked towards their room. I followed them into the room as Sam unlocked it with her keycard. The room was similar if not identical to Ellie’s and I’s. Two, matching queen beds, a joining ensuite and two reasonable sized wardrobes. Steph very quickly packed her stuff up, throwing it all into her bags before procuring Sam’s help to move it down the hall. I wordlessly unlocked the door to formerly Ellie and I’s room. When we walked in Ellie was already in there, sitting on her bed, cuddled up in a pile of blankets and sweatshirts. She looked like she’d been crying and I found a part of me feeling bad for her. She was a good person, a person who had been through a lot considering her age.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

I couldn’t find it in me, even with the guilt riding through my body to look at her eyes. I knew that they’d betray me, that I’d no longer be able to be mad at her or annoyed if I was forced to look into those eyes.

“Ellie, how about we try this tomorrow morning? Y/n/n's tired, she’s not feeling too well.”

Steph’s voice was pretty forceful but Ellie found room to rebut.

“I just want to talk to her for fucks sakes, I deserve that at least before my fucking roommate is uprooted.”

I jumped back at Ellie’s harsh tone, finding myself in Sam’s personal space bubble. She didn’t flinch back at my sudden intrusion, instead pushed one of her own arms to my side, steadying me slightly.

“Ellie Maddison, you have already caused yourself enough trouble for one night, I would stop now. I already told you, Y/n/n isn’t feeling up to it. We can try this in the morning, if she wants. We wouldn’t be uprooting her if it wasn’t for you two behaving like three year olds. You both need sleep, not more petty arguing that is going to get us nowhere. Y/n, grab your things, we can talk this all out in the morning, both Sam and I are too tired to put up with any more of it.”

I scurried to collect my bag, I’d never really unpacked so it wasn’t hard. I just grabbed my pillow, bag, phone charger and backpack before scrambling my way out of the room. Sam helped me to haul my big bag down the hallway and into her room.

As soon as we closed the door behind us I could feel a part of me break, the part that broke inside of me every night when I crawled under the covers of my hotel bed or I collapsed on the floor of the ensuite. The vulnerable part of my soul that had never been prepared for this, never prepared for fame or attention. I mean as a kid I’d shied away from it as much as I could, kid Y/n was an insecure, anxious mess who had no idea what she wanted, that part of me was still the same.

“Do you need help unpacking? Steph had housekeeping come in today and clean our sheets so the beds are all clean, I try to keep fairly organised and clean but just a disclaimer that there are some stories about me sleep-talking that I neither deny or confirm.”

“I think I should be fine to put it all away, thank you though.”

Sam smiled at me and nodded, it seemed like there was something else hanging off of the tip of her tongue that she was deciding whether or not to say.

“Okay then, I’m just going to have a quick shower, I do not apologise if I start to sing, it’s a canon event.”

I snorted and nodded Sam’s way as I watched her dip into the ensuite. I set myself the task of firstly, getting changed. I clawed off my layers of matilda gear and very quickly changed into a pair of Qantas pyjamas that we’d gotten on our flight to Sydney, they were fresh and unopened and everything about them seemed comfortable. After I was done getting changed I set myself the task of stowing my bag away on my side of the wardrobe, I didn’t do much more than that, I didn’t really want to unpack right now. So I did a very quick version of my skincare routine and then climbed into my bed. It was comfy, the same as my one in the other room except it just felt different. Once I’d properly situated myself in the pillows I grabbed out my phone and started to scroll on instagram.

It was safe to say that when I was in a bag head space I spiralled a lot.

So when I was in the dumps about a bad game I would often find myself reverting to the hate pages on the internet. The internet is a fucked up place. Some of the things that strangers are willing to put out in the world about a person they don’t know is fucked. It was still a bad habit of mine though to constantly look at those posts.

Leah was always confiscating my phone after bad games, after bad days. She knew me too well, knew how when I got wrapped up in my own head there was nothing to do besides just be there for me. I fiddled anxiously as I flicked through the countless news articles that had been posted. The Australian had a particular hatred for me, had since I was a rookie and since they’d found some photos of me doing drugs back when I was a teenager and published it on the front cover of the Saturday papers. I’d had a particular shared hatred back at them after that. They had a field day every time I had a bad game, I was pretty much the leading lady of page 6. Our game last Saturday had been no different, one wrong kick and I was washed up and cracking under the pressure. The slew of twitter pages and reddit links that I’d been sent after that had been enough to make anyone feel sick to their stomach.

That was why I think I’d gotten roomed with Ellie, she was probably the most hated in the media on the team besides me. I think Sam had thought maybe we’d bond over it but neither of us were vulnerable enough to talk to the other about it. So it had just stewed between the both of us and honestly probably made it worse than it should have been.

“I don’t think I have ever seen a person in such an intense staring competition with their phone.”

I squealed as Sam very stealthily grabbed my phone from my own hands. I immediately sprung up, trying to retrieve it from her hands, I hadn’t had the opportunity to lock it.

“What are you hiding?”

I saw Sam’s interest peak as I fought intensely to grab my phone back. She held it above her head and I might have been taller than her but I couldn’t for the life of me manage to retrieve it from her hands even as I attempted to use her body as a climbing frame. After a few jumps and attempts I gave up, collapsing back into my bed and covering my body and head with the sheets and duvet. The room stayed silent as Sam did the inevitable and looked through my phone screen.

“Y/n.”

Her voice was even and I felt her bodyweight sink down onto the spot at the bottom of my bed. I felt her arms work their way up to the top of the duvet and slowly try to pry them out of my own hands. She succeeded fairly quickly, smiling at me as my face was revealed to the light of our hotel suite.

“There’s that pretty face, no need to be ashamed honey. You ought to not read into what Roger writes, he hates anything to do with women's sports, especially women who are succeeding so heavily at such a young age. You shouldn’t let your mental image of yourself be contorted by words written by a person who doesn’t know you or care about you, don’t do that to yourself, you deserve better.”

I looked at Sam, in all of her glory, sitting above me, an old nike shirt that looked like it had been washed 600 times. Her hair was brushed smoothly back into her classic low pony. It made me cry. Not sobbing crying, just wet, fat tears dripping down my face as I thought about that article. I could probably quote most of the journalist's work, I’d read it over and over and over.

“Come on now, don’t cry, please. You’ve done enough crying for tonight, don’t make me tickle you.”

Sam’s eyebrow rose in challenge as she stared down at me, silently challenging me to keep going. When I did, her hands found their way to my sides and started to tickle me intensely. I immediately let out a choken laugh, trying to suppress my giggles and cries.

“S-Sam stop ittt. S’ not fair.”

She smirked at me as she continued her abuse of my sides.

“Stop crying then, c’mon, there are better things to do with your time then cry over bullshit. I know Williamson would have my head if she knew that I was letting her girl get down in the dumps over something that’s out of your control. I am telling you now, honestly, your whole career there is always going to be someone who is going to try and take you down, journalists, social media, other players. It’s wrong, but we are women in a field that is predominantly presumed to be male dominated, we aren’t appreciated, we’re underpaid and we are slaughtered in the press for anything. The more you feed into it the worse it’s going to get, and I understand that the other stuff isn’t going to just go away but it is going to eventually get better, I promise you that.”

“You promise?”

Sam rolled her eyes and extended her pinky towards me.

“I pinky promise.”

I rolled my eyes at the cliche but interlocked my own pinky finger in hers and shook it. Sam reached down to wipe the tears from my face and smiled at me, a little glint in her eye.

“Now, I think it’s about time we got you tucked in, it’s been a big day for you.”

“I’m not tired.”

Sam rolled her eyes at my immediate defiance and plonked herself down next to me on the bed, resting beside me against the headboard. She lazily placed one of her arms around my shoulder, there was something so simple but complex about the whole situation.

“Do I need to explain to you the importance of getting eight hours?”

“This feels like one of those captain moments where you try and mom me into doing something that’s not going to happen.”

Sam snorted at my reply, nodding her head concedingly.

“Is the defiance just a young people thing or do you just enjoy being a pain in the ass?”

“There’s no fun in it if I agree to everything you tell me to do.”

Sam’s eyes damn near rolled into the back of her head.

“Is it hard using defiance as a defence mechanism constantly?”

The question took me back a little bit, it hadn’t been what I was expecting. She’d turned a pretty mild conversation into something deep so quickly that it took me a few seconds to recover.

“I don’t use defiance as a defence mechanism.”

My voice wavered a little bit, just enough for doubt to seep in.

“Yes you do.”

Sam’s voice was so matter of a fact, like she knew me better than I knew myself.

“No, I don’t.”

“You push everyone out, you don’t listen to anyone who is trying to help you out, you do things that are harmful to yourself without caring, you play with injuries, you put yourself in harms way a little bit to often, you hide your emotions, I could keep listing off if I wanted to.”

I hated how right Sam was, how observant she was, it made me queasy.

“Okay, so I do some of those things, but that doesn’t make it a defence mechanism.”

“What does it make it then? A form of self harm? A form of punishment? I think you’ve punished yourself enough, when does it all become enough, when in the mind of Y/n do you atone for your sins? Because from where I’m looking at it you are leading yourself in the direction of a cliff's edge and you aren't going to stop until you are over that cliff.”

I gulped, unsure of what to say to my skipper, because I couldn’t lie to her, not for the life of me but I also wasn’t going to sit here and listen to her pretty much tell me that I was suicidal or something.

“You don’t know what I’ve done or who I’ve hurt to get here.”

“I know you're a good kid, with a good heart and if Williamson decided to take a shot with you then you have to be worth it. I know you carry baggage, a lot more than you’ll ever tell anyone, some things that you don’t even tell Leah. I have my inferences, I know things are rough with your family, always has been. I know you're hard on yourself, far too hard on yourself considering you are nineteen. I know that you never saw yourself here, never saw yourself as being capable of being here and now that you are you are having an identity crisis because you are secretly terrified that you are never going to be good enough to be here, even though you are. You’re hurting a lot, I know roughly what you're doing to self soothe, it’s not good and I’m worried about you, all of us are.”

I bit down on my lip, staring out at the wall in front of me, unsure of what to say to Sam, because she was right in so many ways but her words were also like a stab in my heart, because until someone is telling you about your behaviours I don’t think it subconsciously sinks in.

“Something to think about, I’m always here kid, if you ever need to talk, or need help, or just someone to keep you company then I’m here, whatever you need.”

“I didn’t ever plan on being a professional football player,” I snorted in between my words, realising I was actually about to go down this path with my captain, a woman who had pioneered womens sport in Australia, “This sounds stupid but all I ever wanted growing up was to own a cattle station, wanted to live the humble life out on the farm. I know that sounds so stupid, because it’s so simple. But I never planned for this, I never wanted this. My parents put me into football and gymnastics when I was six and I was good at them, really good and it was for fun so it was fine. Then it wasn’t for fun and I was playing in national teams and olympic qualifiers. Then I broke my back falling off of a beam and I was happy, I was glad, because it meant that I could do what I wanted. Then I was in the party scene and everything was good, until it wasn’t. Then my parents were shipping me off to the AIS and I didn’t have a say. Next thing I’m here and I’m doing this and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. But a part of me never wanted this and I know that’s bad of me to say because there are thousands of girls who would die for my spot but it’s the truth.”

I took a deep breath as I finished up my spew of words, it was a lot, I wasn’t an oversharer, most of it was probably word vomit but there was something about Sam that just made me feel comfortable with being vulnerable, I didn’t know what it was.

“That’s not stupid, having dreams isn’t stupid and it’s okay for you to be upset that you didn’t get what you wanted. You have a gift Y/n, the way that you play on the field is truly exceptional and I am telling you now that if you want to be the best professional footballer, then you can. You could be one of the best players in the game, better than me or any other player on this team, I believe that whole-heartedly. You deserve that, if you want it. If you start to make healthier decisions for yourself, decisions that don’t harm you. When was the last time you ate a proper meal? The last time you took time out of your day to look after yourself? How long until it starts to seriously harm you? Do I need to tell you how dangerous it is for a professional athlete to not be looking after their body, you are important Y/n, and so is your health.”

I fiddled with a loose thread that was protruding from the doona below me. My captain's words were sinking in, deep, like a tattoo. Etching its way into my skin, painfully.

“I am fine, our doctors have had no issues with clearing me, I eat and I do look after myself.”

My justification was weak, it was in my voice and in my mannerism. My statement just wasn’t believable, as much as I was trying to push it.

“So you know how to pass a medical test? I’d expect you too considering you fooled Tony the whole time you were at the AIS that you weren’t using. I’ve heard the story, it just proves to me that you know how to get around testing.”

Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t surprising Sam knew my history with drugs, I mean anyone who read the papers knew, it wasn’t private information. I was clean now, four years and proud of it. I’d had a bumpy road to recovery but I’d gotten there with time.

“I can look after myself.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“See, as soon as anyone tries to care for you, you close up.”

“I don’t close up. I just don’t respond to being interrogated.”

“You aren’t being interrogated.”

“Sure seems like it.”

“That’s a bit overdramatic, all I am trying to do is care for you, something you are adamant on avoiding.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, because I couldn’t deny Sam in what she was saying, I did push people out who tried to care for me. Long ago Leah had accepted there were some parts of me that I was never going to be able to talk to her about, that was why she’d forced me into seeing a therapist.

“I don’t need you to care for me.”

“The scars on your thighs say otherwise.”

I blinked for a few seconds, taking a deep gulp as the words that Sam had just said set in, had she actually gone there? Had she actually just said that.

“That was a low fucking blow.”

Sam was clearly taken aback by her own words, it had clearly just spilled out of her. Sam was no filter, so it had come to me as no surprise that she frequently blurted, just the fact she’d said that though hit me deep.

“I’m not wrong.”

I could feel tears stemming at the back of my eyes, at the realisation that I was about to have this conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Does Leah know?”

“She’s had her queries, she doesn’t push it.”

“She doesn’t push the fact that you cut yourself?”

If her previous words hadn’t hit hard, those ones had, because those words, that assumption, that accusation was so confronting.

“It’s not like that.”

“Explain to me what it’s like then.”

I pushed Sam’s arm off of my shoulder, feeling like I need a more face to face conversation. I pushed myself off of the bed head, so I was sitting between Sam’s two legs, my legs crossed. It was vulnerable for me, just talking to someone about my feelings was vulnerable for me.

“When I was 15, when I gave up the drugs. I was in a lot of pain, I hated myself. It wasn’t easy, I mean I was trying pretty much everything I could to get injured. I got arrested for speeding underage twice, both times Tony had to bail me out. I was just a mess, so I started to hurt myself, to stop myself from seriously injuring myself. It was the only thing that I could do that would make me feel better, the only thing that I could turn to when shit got real. So it became my thing, then I turned pro and I stopped for a while, especially when Leah started to get on my case about it but then we got to training camp and it was all too much so I started again and I know it’s a bad habit and it’s serious but Sam, I wouldn’t be here right now without it.”

“Are you suicidal?”

It was a question I definitely wasn’t prepared for.

“I’ve had suicidal thoughts over the years, I’ve had my fair share of bad moments but no, I’m not suicidal. I don’t do it because I want to die, I do it because it gives me relief, from life, from football, from stress. For me it's an outlet, when life gets hard that’s how I deal with it. It's unhealthy but it’s what works for me and I know that it’s bad but it’s what works.”

Sam nodded at me, there was a certain softness to her words and features the more I spoke to her, the more barriers that I let go. Sam’s own hand found its way to my bicep, silently comforting me and telling me to stop rambling.

“I get it. You do what you have to do to survive, and there is nothing wrong with that. You do what you have to do to get through the day. You’re not broken. This isn’t something to be embarrassed about or guilty for. You are still a child Y/n, in so many ways. The world is hard sometimes, what we do is hard sometimes, we all have needs. You scavenge for anything that helps you to get through because you want to survive, you want to be ok. Then it works, so you continue to survive. Good for you, you figured out how to survive. You don’t need to spend everyday in survival mode anymore though, you have love in your life that prevents the constant need to survive.

The words burnt my soul and I could feel the tears brimming up again. I hated crying.

“You’re living your old life Y/n/n. But it’s done, it’s over. You get to have the good things that you never had, you can meditate, or go on holiday, you can read books, you can learn a new language, you can learn how to live in a way where you don’t have to hurt to handle all of the things that scare you. No shame, just growth, okay. You don’t have to hide in your ensuite at night by yourself, like you taught yourself to do to survive, am I clear?”

Sam’s eyes bored down into my soul, her words were so strong and definite.

“You’re going to call me, or Leah, or your therapist next time you feel like doing it, that’s an order. You are going to call one of us, call me, and I’ll talk to you, I’ll talk to you for however long it takes for you to understand that this,”

Sam’s hand fell down to my thigh, where we both knew the scars laid, underneath my sweats,

“Isn’t the solution, not anymore, we’re leaving it in the past. This isn’t your way to survive anymore, from now on you aren’t going to just survive, we are going to make you live, I promise you that. From here on out you are going to live, and enjoy living. I am going to try my hardest to keep to that promise, but you need to as well. Promise me you are going to try and do more than just survive, because this shit in the press, it sucks, but it’s going to go away and once it does you are going to be lost, you are going to struggle and that fight that you put in everyday to be here, it’s not going to be as present and when that happens, when all of the outside threats are denominated you are going to hit rock bottom, there’s one positive of hitting rock bottom though, there’s only one way up and when you realise that you have the potential to go upwards and you want to, life is going to get better.”

“Y’know I get why Polks and De Vanna recommended you for captain.”

My words were said with tears and snot running down my face, with the realisation that right now, I was being held accountable for my shit and it was a hard realisation. My captain's words had hit home for me with the realisation that there wasn’t room for me to behave like I previously had.

“I try my best, I expect you to do the same. This relationship, this situation, it doesn’t work if you aren’t prepared to put the work in, if you aren’t prepared to hit rock bottom and work upwards from there. When you do hit that bottom, I want you to call me, tell me you’ve had a bad day, or don’t, talk, or listen, whatever you need.”

I nodded at Sam.

“I am going to try.”

She smiled at me and nodded, all encouragement and comfort.

“Okay then, okay. Come here kid,”

Sam opened her arms for me and I collapsed into them, grateful for just the warmth and comfort of Sam’s arms. I understood why all of the girls gravitated to her, why they seeked her out so often. She understood, she didn’t judge, she listened and then she gave advice, good advice, meaningful advice. One of her hands went to my back, gently rubbing across the nooks and valleys along my back. The other hand reached to the nape of my neck, gently twisting and brushing out the hairs that laid at the beginning of my hairline. I lent into her touch, silently finding so much comfort in her actions.

“M’ sorry, sorry that I didn’t come to you earlier.”

“It’s okay kid, I understand, you were scared and you didn’t know who you could talk to about that. What’s important is you know now, you know that I am always here for when you need help and I expect you to come to me from now on, no more hiding and struggling in silence, okay?”

I nodded into Sam’s arms, just silently finding so much peace and solace in being held. I hadn’t been held in months, not since I’d been with Leah and the last few months with Leah had been hard to say the least. She’d done her ACL, and it wasn’t anybody's fault, I hadn’t been prepared for it though. Both Leah and I were going through rough patches and neither of us were prepared to look after another human being besides ourselves. There had been countless nights between the two of us spent crying and fighting with each other. It was rough, we’d worked through it though. It was hard though, and a part of me felt guilty for not being okay, and a part of me felt like Leah was going through so much worse than me and I could never burden her with my stupid problems.

“Now, I think it is definitely time that we get you tucked in and asleep, I won’t take any arguments, you look like you could sleep for days if you needed.”

I just nodded at Sam, any fight, any defiance that had been in my body was gone, I just didn’t have it in me. She was right, I was tired, I’d hardly slept the whole world cup. I was an insomniac, so that was to blame partially, partially I also just didn’t feel safe sleeping. Ellie was always on the phone with her girlfriend, when she wasn’t she was trying to talk to me or do yoga or something. She’d also been slaughtered in the press most of the tournament, it was messing with her, everyone could tell. Her techniques for combatting her anxiety about it though was annoying to say the least, being the younger one in the situation I didn’t have the confidence to tell her that her habits were fucking annoying to say the least.

I didn’t fight back as Sam gently laid me down on my bed, pulling the covers up over my body and very gently tucking me in.

“Have a good sleep, kid.”

She smiled at me and I smiled back.

“You too cap, thank you, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Sam patted me on the head, giving me her signature smirk.

“It’s no trouble, now get some sleep yeah, I need you to be coherent for tomorrow.”

I nodded along with Sam’s statement, watching as she got up off of my bed and walked towards the light switch, turning it off before jumping into her own bed. She rustled around in her sheets for a few minutes before finding her spot, a few minutes after the rustling ended I heard her breath slow and even out, indicating that she’d fallen asleep.

The situation was not the same for me, it took me a few hours to fall asleep and once I did I only slept for two hours, it was fitful sleep, very light and not very good. I laid in bed for a while before deciding around 5 that I was going to go for a run. I got up as quietly as I could, throwing on a pair of shorts and a sports bra. Once I’d gotten dressed I picked out my pair of running sneakers before creeping my way out of the hotel room and trying my very hardest to keep my steps silent as I walked down the hallway and into the elevators that took me down to the lobby. Our hotel was about 200 metres from the beach, so I made the decision I would take my morning run along the beach.

It was still dark out as I made my way out onto the main road and started my jog down to the water's edge. The sun probably wouldn’t rise before I came home. I planned to do about ten km, the beach was around 4 or so long so If I ran up and then down I would probably do about that. As soon as I got down to the waters edge I started to run properly.

Running had been one of my releases since I was 12. Whenever I was angry I went for a run, when I ran everything stopped. It was just me and the music that I had running through my headphones. It felt the same as I set my pace along the sand, like all of the fucking mayhem from the past twenty four hours was just mellowing out, becoming background noise. If I could always be running I would. The only time I ever felt like I was myself was when I was running. The feeling of your heart pounding against your chest, the feeling of your breath hurting in your throat and the dryness in your throat. As I ran the sun slowly started to rise, slowly climbing along the horizon. I made it about three quarters of the way before I ran into someone, one of the last people I wanted to be seeing.

For a second I wasn’t quite sure who it was, they were the only other person on the beach, standing along the shoreline. As I sprinted my way back to my starting spot the body slowly started to become bigger and the fear in my gut slowly grew. I couldn’t make out much more than their body, with the lack of lighting present in the room. As I slowly approached though, more features slowly started to become more recognisable and I silently screamed internally as I realised who exactly was.

As I approached them I slowed my pace, down to a slow jog, almost a walk. I slowly approached them and internally froze as they turned to face me. Fuck.

“It’s a nice morning.”

Lucy’s face was stone serious, and her words didn’t reflect the general attitude that she seemed to hold.

“So you're enjoying the motherland, then, the sunrises are unbeatable.”

“I’d be enjoying it more if I hadn’t been pulled out of my bed at 5am this morning to come and find you because Kerr texted Leah saying you’d disappeared and she didn’t know where to.”

“I’m allowed to go on a run.”

“You didn’t leave a note, after having what I’ve perceived as a fairly rough twenty four hours.”

“I don’t need the lecture.”

“La Reina wouldn’t have a bar of this attitude.”

“Alexia isn’t here.”

“It could be arranged, if I deem you in need of some attitude adjustment.”

I braced myself in front of Lucy, she was a scary woman. When I’d started in the WSL I’d originally been selected by Barcelona, then after half a season I’d been traded to Arsenal. I’d liked it at Barca, if I hadn't been traded I probably would have still been there, Barca was good, when I’d gotten there I had been a basket case, it had been what I’d needed. I was 17 at the time, and had no idea what I’d wanted, Barca had taught me how to wake up every morning and do something with life.

Lucy opened her arms up to me and I let myself fall into them, letting the older woman embrace me. Her arms were strong and they hugged me to her tightly, comfortingly, in the way that a mother would embrace their child. That was what Barca had given me, a good relationship with people that were like substitutes for my mom.

“It’s good to see you, Luce.”

“It’s good to see you as well kid, although I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances.”

She released me from her arms and sat herself down on the sand, nodding at me to sit down next to her. I followed suit, so we were both sitting on the sand, looking out at the sunrise.

“You’ve been doing it again.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“I don’t want to tell Ale that you’re lying to me as well.”

I crossed my arms across my chest in frustration, grumbling at Lucy.

“She’s not even my captain anymore.”

“She’s still the woman who took you under her wing, she’s your blood, mija.”

I pursed my lips and looked out at the horizon, the sun was truly rising now, the bright pink and oranges mixing into a tie dye across the sky.

“How’d you know I was going to be down here.”

“Just a hunch, I know how much you like your runs.”

“I wasn’t running away or anything, I just needed to think.”

One of Lucy’s arms fell over my shoulders, it was heavy but so soft at the same time.

“I know mi amor, you should have told someone where you were going though, especially considering the events of the last few hours, you worried a lot of people.”

“Leah told you?”

“She told me she was worried about you, that you had a lot on your plate right now, more than a 19 year old should be handling.”

I pursed my lips again, Lucy’s words were so pensive, so calculated but present at the same time. It was bizarre.

“I, just, this world cup, it was supposed to be the defining moment in my career, when I proved to everyone that I was as good, if not better than everyone else they were comparing me too. But I haven’t been performing, the press hates me, I just can’t catch a break.”

“Sounds like you need a sabbatical.”

I snorted a little bit at Lucy’s words.

“I’m serious, you know, after this, you should take some weeks off. Leah needs it as well, go somewhere, wherever your heart feels like you need to be and just live, or learn to live. Turn your phone off, eat as much as you want, exercise as little or as much as you want, just let yourself be happy, without everyone else, without football, without social media and other people. Learn to love yourself.”

I’d been handed so much emotional advice over the last few hours, it was a lot to absorb, a lot to think about.

“I miss La Reina, I miss Barca.”

“I know mi amor, but you have to be here, you have to be in London. It’s what you are destined to be doing, Ale and us all miss you but you are doing such good things where you are.”

“Your taking me back to the hotel, aren’t you?”

Lucy nodded at me sadly and I took one final deep breath before lifting myself off the sand and dusting any remnants of it off of my clothing. I helped Lucy up and then we both started to walk towards the beach exit.

“I’ll be there to watch you tomorrow, Kei, Leah and I. Play for us yeah? Make us proud.”

The walk back to the hotel was rather sullen, both Lucy and I staying fairly silent, her guiding me to the doors with a hand secured on my lower back. When we got to the door I gave her a hug before parting ways and stepping into the lobby. The team room was a little bit more alive then it had been when I’d walked through earlier in the morning. Kat, Harper, Charli and Ky were all awake, having breakfast together, as well as a few of the other veterans. I made my way through the lobby as quickly as I could, I couldn’t be bothered with talking to anyone.

When I did get back to my room, I was very surprised to find Sam, Steph, Haley and Alanna waiting for me. I was the first person to speak, slipping off my shoes next to the door and breaking the tension.

“Isn’t it a bit early for a mothers group meeting?”

[authenticyuri]

Listen I know I know, referring to Laios’s party as found family isn’t breaking new grounds but like. Can I talk about how literally everyone in the main cast has been ostracized or othered throughout their life and how they can form connections with each other despite their differences and how they don’t belong anywhere else but they actively want to stick together?

The Touden twins have never belonged in their family or with their peers. Laios’s fascination with monsters and low people skills are obviously the main traits that lead people to find him and his interests weird and creepy and cause them to have inaccurate and exaggerated views of how he acts in their head. Whenever people don’t outright tell him how weird he is they always pretend to be his friends while secretly hating him and acting passive aggressively towards him. Even when his knowledge and skills are put on full display and are actively useful, people are still on the fence about him as a whole and don’t take any time to understand him, constantly insisting he’s a freak and an idiot.

Falin was never understood by her parents because of her magical abilities and didn’t fit in at all at her academy. Others always saw her as the weird, muddy, quiet, irresponsible girl in their class, and while she never payed much attention to how others perceived her, it still left her completely isolated from others, until she met Marcille.

Chilchuck faces discrimination from other races constantly looking down on him (in more ways than one) and seeing him as literally disposable. He developed trust issues around others and tried to overcompensate by acting dryly and being as profesional as possible, but it does nothing to deter people from seeing him as a child and underestimating him.

Marcille’s huge age gap and irregular aging from others has made her feel completely isolated from everyone around her since her childhood. She is looked down upon by high and mighty elves who don’t see her as an equal due to being a mixed race. Her interests in ancient magic actively creep out her party members and everyone else who can only see it as the illegal and dangerous “dark arts.” She’s never been able to meet anyone else like her and feels isolated due to no one else having to bear and therefore never being able to understand her situation and frustrations.

Senshi was seen as an inconvenience in the original party he was a part of. Out of the main cast, he probably suffered the most traumatic circumstances and hasn’t been able to overcome that lingering dread in the back of his mind for years. He explored the dungeon in complete solitude for many years while never going out of his way to meet new people until he met Laios’s party. He is someone who uses his interests to try and connect with the people around him but people are unable to see that due to just finding him a weird man who lives in the dungeon and is obsessed with cooking.

Izutsumi never being properly raised and given love by anybody and seen as a freak because of her curse to be a beastkin, to the point she convinced herself that getting rid of her curse is the one thing that would finally make her happy. She’s never formed a close genuine connection with anyone and understood the concept of relationships as give and take.

Many or all of the preconceived biases each individual character faced are still present when it comes to how they view each other, and yet, despite it all, they are still sticking around, regardless of how many opportunities they had to leave. It’s how Chilchuck put himself in harms way despite not being strong and how he finally opened himself up to these people. How Senshi always stuck around to provide food for the others and help them along their journey, and come to accept different ways of doing things or understanding the world because of them. How Marcille ate every single meal she was served despite constantly showing hesitation, and she kept going despite how many times it seemed like they would never make it out or accomplish their goal. How Izutsumi learned that sometimes it’s necessary to do things you don’t like for the sake of other people, and she stuck around cause she knew they needed her, despite her not needing them. How Laios did gain a positive outlook on humanity and betrayed his instincts to save and protect the people he cares about. And about how Falin, after years of eating all by herself, was finally able to share a delicious meal with other people.