#this thing is happening where my mind is dry and miserable all day but after 830 i am reborn

[footagedump]

so

[noskipnotability]

Baking cookies or a cake with alex ?

I feel like his the type of guy who can cook but can't bake so it'd be chaos 😭

I went ahead and made the reader a baker just for the sake of it, this one isn’t as long as I’d hoped, but I’m a bit too tired today

I hope you enjoy anyways my lovely, take care. jay xx

Flour caked the surface of your counter and covered both your hands in a light snow. The shells of eggs were thrown on the other end from the bowl, where Alex had been putting all of the trash, instead of throwing it in the bin. 

You hadn't the slightest clue how someone who managed to cook the best steak you'd had in years, couldn't bake some chocolate chip cookies. With a recipe too. 

You, you excelled in baking but fell short in cooking. You suppose that just added to how well the two of you worked together. 

It was your recipe, the one you used for your bakery, you had a copy at the shop but brought it home for Alex. Later that day, you both were off to his mum's and he wanted to bring something for tea. So naturally, he went to you for help. You had offered to make them yourself, but Alex insisted on doing it. You think he was just trying to prove himself a good baker. 

Well, he failed miserably after refusing any help you tried providing, and now you were trying to salvage what he had already done. It was clear he put in too much flour, shown by how it was all over the kitchen. Some even made its way into his hair, where your wonderful idiot had obviously brushed his hand through it despite the flour. He only forgot to use his brain sometimes. 

"Al, why don't you start cleaning?"

He huffs, he didn't want to admit it, but he was upset at the fact he couldn't manage something so simple. He'd seen you bake effortlessly and only wanted to try to be as good. It clearly didn't work out how he'd like and once again he was disappointed in himself. 

"How d'you make it look so easy?"

He throws his hands up, some of the powder flying into the air, "I swear, I followed the instructions perfectly. I'm just not cut out for this!"

You smiled sadly at your lover so saddened by the outcome of such inconsequential events, but then again, even the smallest things mattered to him. You wiped your hands on the rag by your side. Then, you hold his cheeks, his skin soft as always. Some flour even got on the tip of his nose, like it was dusted with snow in the winter. 

"I've been doing this for years, my love," You brush the dust off and place a kiss in return, "I've got the upper hand. Baking, it takes patience, I always help new comers at the shop. It's why I wanted to help you."

He pouted at his 'stupidness', he thought himself ridiculous for refusing your help now. He thought it ridiculous for getting so frustrated over something so easy, but you simply bring your lips to his in an quick attempt to stop his cluttered mind. He melts at the sensation of yours against his, like he was being greeted by the edge of space and time, it never seemed to get old with you. 

Your hands meet his hair, un-gelled for the time being. He found himself going to you to do it, it always looking better when graced by your hands. Now, it fell messily in dark locks over his forehead, hiding his widows peak that you loved so dearly. His breaths got heavy at the annoyance of his incapability but had evened out in your hands, as he did every time. 

You hummed and lifted your head to meet his doe eyes, their brightness returning after being dimmed so much. "How about..." you paused to his his lips once more, "we start again, yes?"

He nods, the pout turning to a smile at the idea. You add, unwavering, that he has to accept your help. Which he doesn't hesitate to do this time. 

To no surprise, it goes much more smoothly. 

You had gotten to where he went wrong last time, asking carefully what went happened. Alex sighs, "The texture—it looked all wrong. I thought adding more flour would help, but then it was too dry, so I added another egg and some other stuff and..."

He stops with his hands falling back to his sides after gesturing as he spoke. You nod your head, taking everything in. 

"That happens, Al. You said this is what it looked like last time," you asked and he shakes his head in agreement, "It's how it's supposed to look, my love."

The realisation that washes over him is as clear as the sky, albeit that's not saying much with the current cloudy sky. His face falls once again, he now remembers you mentioning that as you explained some details of the recipe before he had started. It was foolish to have forgotten, but of course he did. 

"Y'know, Al. The first time I baked these cookies, they were they driest things I'd ever tasted?" He chuckled at the thought of someone so talented failing so badly, it seemed impossible. "But I tried again, did better. Then I kept trying until I got to where I am today."

You brushed the hair out of his face as he turned to you with a eager puppy type of look, and added, "Just as you did with cooking. I remember when you first made me dinner. It broke my heart to tell you it was bad, but that didn't stop you, did it? No, you kept cooking and kept improving. Now all I want is your cooking 'cause none other compares."

His buries his face in between your neck and shoulder, his nose pushing into it and his lips pressed into a smile at the compliment. His voice is muffled by the position, but serenades you despite it. 

"You flatter me, I guess you're right," he cuts you off before you can say anything, "You always are." You smile lovingly at how well he knew you, "Since you've helped now, mum will love 'em. She's always asking me to bring over your baking."

You lift his head up and press a chaste kiss to it. He tries chasing it as you pull away, but fails. Patting his cheek teasingly, you both get back to work. 

[drabbles-mc]

Weekend Getaway

Gilly Lopez x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's June Challenge: beach, sundress, "There's someone in the house!"

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, slight steam

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: I figured I was due to give Gilly a little fluff since I'm gonna be putting the man Thru It in my series for him lmao. Enjoy some little vacation sweetness with the man who is taking over my whole brain ��

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You could hear the sound of the waves crashing from where you stood in the kitchen. The sliding glass door of the house that you’d rented for a long weekend getaway had a few steps just on the other side, but those steps were the only things separating you from the sand. The house was back far enough so that high tide wouldn’t reach you, but it also wasn’t going to take much effort at all to get to the point where the water would be washing over your feet.

Along with the sound of the waves, you could also hear the whoops and hollers of all the men that were out on the sand. Someone had set up a volleyball net and once it was up, none of them had come back to the house except to grab more drinks to bring out. You didn’t mind it—the break was hard earned, for everyone. The fact that so many of them had jumped on board with the idea of getting away for a weekend now that everything had calmed down a bit was shocking to you. It was nothing short of a miracle that you all had managed to get two houses right next to each other, letting you be neighbors on the beach.

You’d retreated back to the house you were staying in to shower and change after a swim in the ocean. Nothing would be as funny to you as the number of bikers who refused to get in the water because they were convinced they were going to be devoured by sharks. The same men who would willingly and without hesitation go into a gun-fight, wouldn’t go in the water past the waist of their swim-trunks. Gilly had gone with you, and you could tell by the look on EZ’s face that he would eventually dive in before the day was out, if for no other reason than Gaby dragging him in, but the rest of them kept their feet on the dry sand. The overly competitive games of volleyball kept them distracted enough.

Once you had managed to get as much sand off you as possible, you dried off, throwing on a simple, casual sundress instead. The only plans you had until dinner now revolved around plopping on a deck chair with a drink and a book. You’d be able to listen to and watch all of the shenanigans unfold without getting hit with any of the sand that was getting kicked up. You also wouldn’t be roped into something that was more than you bargained for by having to tag into the game. You had watched it happen to Creeper’s wife, but luckily she was competitive enough to hang with the best of them, much to Angel’s demise.

You were half-listening to the controlled chaos outside as you opened the fridge. Once the cool air hit you, your quest for something to make drinks with was instantly forgotten. Your eyes were wandering over everything in front of you, but you weren’t really registering any of it. It wasn’t until you heard heavy footsteps barging through the door and laughter that was too loud to mean anything good that you snapped out of your daze.

Coco was dripping wet, trying his best to look angry but failing at it miserably as he trekked through the house. You had to assume that his state had everything to do with Angel and Gilly who were walking in right behind him, nearly doubled over from laughter.

“Do I wanna know?” you asked with a chuckle as you grabbed a water bottle and shut the fridge door, deciding that drink-making could wait until the chaos crew had left the room.

Coco paused for long enough to explain the situation to you, water dripping from the curls that were now starting to fall out of whatever mess of a bun situation he’d tried to strap them up in. “These motherfuckers,” he gestured to Angel and Gilly, laughing when he saw they were still laughing, “threw me in the fuckin’ ocean.” He hastily pushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. “Like they wanna see me get torn apart by a shark or somethin’.”

“In our defense,” Angel said, fighting hard not to descend back into a fit of laughter, “we said whoever cost their team the next point was gettin’ tossed.” He sniffed, a smirk on his face. “Gotta up your game, bro.”

Coco laughed and shook his head. “Fuck you.”

You were shaking your head at all of them, unable to do anything else besides that as you tried to hold your amusement in the best you could. Taking a deep breath, you couldn’t suppress your grin as you looked at Coco. “Why don’t you go shower, or at least find a towel so you don’t keep dripping all over the beach house floor.”

He turned and started walking deeper into the house to where his room was. “Blame those—”

“I know,” you called after him, cutting him off with a laugh, “it’s all their fault, Coco.” Once you got your giggling under control, you turned back to Angel and Gilly. “Why don’t you give him a break and go terrorize EZ instead.”

“Psh,” Angel pushed his damp hair back, smoothing it as best he could given that the ocean had stripped all the product out of it, “don’t gotta tell me twice.” He clapped Gilly on the shoulder before turning around and heading back to the beach.

You looked at Gilly expectantly, thinking that he was going to turn and leave with a similar type of comment about wanting to go give grief so someone else on the beach. Instead, though, he stood there and stared at you, a smile on his face as he lingered in the doorway.

A soft chuckle slipped out of you as you watched him watching you. Twisting the top off the water bottle in your hand, you took a long drink before finally saying, “You good?”

His smile grew wider as he laughed. “I’m good, yea.”

“Need something?” You tilted the water bottle in his direction. “Drink?”

He shook his head as he stepped all the way into the house. He slid the screen door shut behind him before walking over to where you were standing. “I’m good,” he repeated, smile still on his face as his eyes traveled up and down your body.

“You sure?” You chuckled, something about the look in his eyes still knocking the wind out of you even though you’d lost count of the number of times you’d seen it at this point. “Looks like you might need something.”

“You always had this?” he asked, fully knowing the answer as he reached forward and ran his fingertips over the skirt of your dress.

“No,” you said with a smirk starting to pull at your lips. “Got it for the trip.” It was your turn to ask questions that you already had the answers to. “Like it?”

He nodded with no hesitation, eyes lingering everywhere longer than they needed to as his gaze made it back up to your face. “Looks good.”

You smiled, trying to sound nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. “Glad you approve.”

He chuckled at your choice of words, the way you phrased it as though there had ever been a time when Gilly didn’t love whatever you put on. Sure, he made more than enough comments about how you didn’t really have to wear much of anything at his place, but that had nothing to actually do with your choice in clothing.

Suddenly he was pressed up against you, chest to chest, hands slithering around until they were resting on the small of your back. He smelled like salt water and the slightest hint of body wash that was still clinging to him. You smiled, palm resting flat against his chest. A few stray droplets that were still lingering on his skin melded into yours as well.

“Your team is gonna start wondering where you are,” you joked. Despite your words being so casual, your tone gave away the fact that the proximity was doing more to you than you wanted to admit.

He shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They’ll figure it out.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you tried to get your wandering thoughts under control. That task would’ve been easier to complete if Gilly’s hands hadn’t been wandering as well. His hands slid down from the small of your back until the tips of his fingers were grazing against the backs of your thighs. You leaned back slightly, hands resting on the edge of the counter.

“Gilly…” you chuckled as you said it, but there was still a hint of warning in your tone.

He laughed as he leaned in closer to you, erasing the tiny sliver of space that had been left between you. “What?” he asked, feigning innocence as he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

You rolled your eyes, knowing that for your sanity’s sake you should push him away but you couldn’t make yourself do it. “Don’t ask like you don’t know.”

Both of you were laughing at that for a moment before he caught your lips with his. You smiled into the kiss at first, the way that it started off soft and sweet. You could still feel the rumble of his laughter as his mouth moved with yours. You brought one hand up to rest in the spot where his neck met his shoulder, applying just the slightest bit of pressure to bring him closer to you.

He took the action to be an invitation, apparently. You felt his hands grip tighter onto you and you knew immediately what was coming. You pushed up with your hand that was still on the edge of the counter, allowing him to set you up on it. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling the two of you as close together as you could manage. His hands slid down from your hips until they were resting on top of your thighs. You couldn’t fight the smile off your face while you kissed him, feeling the way he was slowly but surely sliding up the hem of your skirt.

“Gilly,” you said, his name accompanied by a breathless laugh as you pulled your lips off of his.

“Yea?” he said it like he had no idea what could possibly be giving you pause.

You set your hands on top of his to stop him, shaking your head. “Stop,” you told him, trying to make your whisper sound harsh but failing as you continued to laugh.

“Stop what?” he played dumb, hands continuing to wander.

“There’s someone in the house!” you whisper-shouted, laughter still shining through as you tried to swat his hands away. “It’s not the time or—”

“Coco is gonna be pouting for at least—”

“And the rest of your friends who keep traipsing in and out of here? Stealing all your beer?” you asked, smiling as your forehead came to rest against his.

He chuckled as his hand grazed along the inside of your thigh. “We could be quick.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Shaking your head at him, you said, “One, I don’t wanna be quick.” You kissed his cheek. “And two, I’ve got no interest in getting caught. I don’t need the guys knowing me like that,” you added with a laugh.

It got him to laugh. More importantly, it got his hands to still for a moment as he considered what you were saying.

You took the hesitation as a win. Wrapping your hand around his forearm, you repositioned his hands so that they were resting on your hips again, over the fabric of your dress instead of under it. “How about,” you leaned back just slightly so that you could see his eyes, “we finish this later,” you kissed him softly on the lips, “and I’ll make it worth the wait?”

He laughed, sighing as his head dropped back so that he was staring at the ceiling for a moment. “You’re the devil sometimes, you know that?”

You laughed as you cupped his face, tracing your thumb along his cheek for a moment before your hands dropped back into your laugh. “You started it.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at you even though he knew you were right. “Whatever,” he said as he laughed.

You hopped down off the counter as he stepped away. Reaching out, you managed to tangle your fingers with his before he stepped too far away. “Hey.” You pulled him back to you, or rather, you pulled yourself closer to him. He looked at you, eyebrows raised waiting for whatever you were going to say next. You laughed, tilting your head so that you could steal another quick kiss before saying, “I love you.”

His smile grew a little wider. “Yea,” he tried his best to sound sarcastic but the look in his eyes gave him away, “I love you too.” He took another step towards the door that led back outside. “Remember that later.”

[babbygirlblues]

Hi, how are you ? I have this one :

fem reader x nat

nat thinks the avengers doesn't think of her as her family, so she stays a bit away.

and (if you saw black widow the scene where they talk about period and ovaries) reader and nat talk about it with comfort

the avengers overhear and big group hug later with team bonding (family bonding)

ooooooooo i love this request! this is hard one <3 (I'm great thx btw, I hope you're going great too!)

thanks for being patient. it took my a while to get this one down, i've been working on a couple series that I'm really excited about posting soon xx

Family Means Forever

So, my thinking 4 this one is:

The convo with Bruce didn't happen (Age of Ultron)

But this is set at Clint's house, like her convo with Bruce

And instead she talks to you.

Sterility does not make someone a monster, or less of a woman, or less of a person, or less worthy of anything.

1.7K

“Do you want children?”

You’re shocked by the question. Your hand lingers over the door handle and you turn to look at Natasha sitting on the bed.

She looks terrified. Seeking comfort under a grey cardigan and you can’t remember the last time she felt like she had to hide from you.  

You’re racking your brain for what could be wrong.

It’s your second day at the Barton farmhouse and you’ve spent most of it with Laura and the kids. You’ve seen Natasha here unlike anything before. ‘Auntie Nat’ plays with Clint’s kids like they’re her own but today she’d wandered off with Clint. 

You make your way over to her and sit on the bed beside her. It dips slightly and pulls her closer to you. 

“Umm,” You try to formulate an honest answer, “I guess, I always thought it would depend on my life, my situation. If I felt like my children would be safe and happy then yeah I’d want them, but I didn’t expect that. I thought that my life might be too crazy for children.”

“Do you want children?” You ask her curiously.

She shrugs, miserably. You’ve never seen her look so dead behind her eyes.

“I’m not family material.” She mumbles.

“What?” You reply, trying to keep your words slow and comforting. “I’m sorry baby, but I’m a bit lost here.” 

“I can’t have children.” She says firmly.

“Ok, that’s ok. Not everybody wants children.” 

“No, that’s not it.” She’s getting worked up, you can see the tears start to swirl in her eyes and they swell with an angry red.

“Ok.”  You go to rub her back soothingly but she shies away from your touch.

You swallow the rejection as best you can, “What is it, then?” You whisper patiently. 

“I can’t have children. It was the last step, just another thing the Room took from me.”

She cups a hand over her lower stomach shamefully and your heart shatters. She has more to say, you can tell it’s all threatening to bubble out, but as usual she holds it all back. 

“They did that to you?” You press softly. You remember clearly how long it took for Natasha to show you that scar. For months she hid her stomach from you, under the covers or in the darkness. Even after she’d shown you her heart, her family, her mind, there was still that insecurity you were desperate to kiss away when she gave you the chance.

She nods, “The graduation ceremony.” 

She sniffles and you reach out for the tissue box on top of the bedside table. 

You fold the tissue and gently pat her eyes dry, wiping the away the tear tracks down her cheek and chin. 

“Hey, look at me.” You hold her chin and turn softly to face you.

“That is not a problem for me.” You hold her gaze and try to convey how serious you are. 

“I mean, obviously I want to murder everyone who hurt you.” You mumble and a giggle hiccups through a wet sob in her throat. 

“But I love you, exactly as you are.”

You kneel down on the floor and shuffle yourself between her legs. Your hands slither up her thighs where they spread out on the mattress and then up around to her hips. 

You reach around to her robe where she clutches it tightly across her midsection. You place your hands on her folded arms and she slowly lets them drop them into her lap. You carefully pull the edges of the cardigan open and then reach down for the bottom of her shirt. 

You look up at her, wary of a negative reaction before pulling the shirt up, exposing her lower stomach up to her belly button. 

As you lean in, your chest presses into the tops of her legs and you press a kiss to the soft skin of her stomach. She flops backwards on the bed and you run your lips along the faint scar line, almost invisible just above the waistband of the pants. Your lips are warm against her skin and you’re careful to stay soft while you rub soothing circles into her skin, tracing up and down the bulge of her hip bones.

You pull yourself up and crawl along the bed until you’re hovering over her head. Silent tears are falling from the corners of her eyes, dripping down her temple and into her hair.

“Oh, my love.” You whisper, wiping her eyes with the pad of your thumbs on either side of her head. 

She looks at you pleadingly. Somehow you’re able to read the words she can’t force from her lips. 

“You want children, baby?”

She sobs and her head rocks into a nodding motion. 

“You’d make the best mother to ever exist on this Earth.” You tell her, your voice tender and confident.

“Yeah?” She sniffles behind her hand and there’s a shy smile that starts to reveal her pearly whites. 

You peck a quick kiss to the deep dimple in her cheek. 

“Without a doubt.”

~~~

“Tash, you should go.” You insist. 

You’re pulling on your jacket at the door of her room and she’s lingering behind you. You’re going out tonight, which means she has to walk herself down stairs and go to the bowling alley with the team without you. 

“Urhhhh,” She groans. “It’s not fun if you’re not going.”

“Hm, I know Tony’s charm runs dry pretty quickly but they are your team, baby.”

“Your family too.” You emphasise to her.

She mumbles something to herself quietly. 

You kiss her on the cheek and reach up to pull off the hood of her jumper off her head. Her ruffled hair flies up at the friction of the fabric and you try not to smile too big at how cute she is.

You pocket your phone and keys from a tray at the door, “I won’t be long, either way.” 

She tugs on your sleeves in a futile attempt to stop you leaving, and you appease her with another kiss to her cheek, then lips. 

“Have a good night, beautiful.” You tell her.

At 5:30 Natasha drags herself downstairs in her old hoodie and jeans. She’ll go with them, but she’s not getting dressed up for it. 

It’s been an exhausting couple of months. Little does she know, the team has found out that the two of you are trying for a baby and they understand there’s something difficult there for Natasha, although they don’t know exactly what it is.

The baby is not something you tried to hide, you’ve spoken to a couple of them and Natasha just wants to tell people on her own time. Secretly, she doesn’t want to get her hopes up just yet and avoids talking about it to anyone but you. 

The group spread themselves across 2 bowling lanes, ordering greasy burgers and fries from the menu. Natasha is just going through the motions, keeping an impressive streak of strikes and she has to admit that she’s having fun despite the smell and the clown shoes and the noise. 

Tony pulls her aside when the burgers arrive and she’s mid-bite when he pulls out a small envelope with her name on it, yours next to it in a beautiful cursive font. 

“Tony?”

“I know nothing’s official yet.” He says, “but I want you to know that I’m happy for you.”

He starts blinking furiously and Natasha almost chokes on a mouthful of food when she realises he’s holding back tears.

She wipes her fingers on her pants and takes the card from him, curiously.

“And, anything you need, you’ll have it.” He says determinately.

She slides the card out from the envelope and opens it up. 

Inside is a picture of a cute little house on a quiet block out of the city. A big tree shades the house around green grass and a little pool glistens on the side. 

Her hand starts to shake. 

“A kid deserves a house to grow up in and a yard to play around.” He says passionately.

Her heart leaps. It’s her worst fear, crying in public and in front of Tony. 

“Tony,” She mumbles, “I don’t know what to say.”

She sniffles and Tony echos it with his own. 

“It’s perfect.” She whispers. 

She runs a finger over the picture of the house. She can imagine you at the front door, a kid running on the grass, summer in the pool and hanging Christmas decorations on the roof. 

She keeps staring down at the little house and Tony smiles at the emotion in her eyes. He’s made the right choice.

“Come on,” He says, patting her on the back. “The others are waiting for the next game.”

~

She realises as the night goes on, that all of them know. 

Steve murmurs a quiet “Congratulations,” and he smiles at her proudly handing her a bowling bowl when she steps up to take her turn. 

Clint holds his hands up innocently when Natasha sends him a look like, did you tell him?

“So, who’s gonna get the title of godfather?” Bucky asks Natasha playfully from across the lane, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Need I remind you of the time I saved your life.” He says.

“I’ve saved Y/N’s life.” Tony claims from the seats, putting emphasis on your name, and yeah, that’s a stronger argument.

“What about names?” Sam says, “Might I recommend Sam Jr? Wilson? I’d settle for William even.”

Nat laughs, she hasn’t let herself think about names, too scared she’d be naming a child that won’t ever be born. 

She hopes they’ll have your hair, your eyes, she doesn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, and she’ll love them no matter what they want to do. 

She doesn't know it yet, but she’ll teach them to fight, to dance if they want, to read and write, she’ll sing Russian lullabies and hold them when it’s scary at night. 

This night exactly one year later, she fawns over tiny feet and wispy red hair. The precious eyes of her daughter gaze at her in admiration and she calls for her mother in the night.

This is something they can’t take anything away from her.

~~~

Oops, sorry! I realise that I didn’t really go into the surgery or period or anything like that. I want to write it in a second part - not a continuation of this one but a one-shot on the same theme. The way this one came out, that conversation just didn’t fit there. I hope the child-topic is enjoyable anyway. Thank you so much for this request. Bya! xx

[lucentaire]

❛  it says couples only ... let's say we're dating and we'll get in.  ❜ - Gray

Her boots had been supposed to be waterproof. The salesfairy at her favourite store had been jubilant as she had explained all the benefits to Carena, how the enchantment was advanced, how it would keep her feet warm and dry without creating a climate that would turn her feet into something closely related to cheese. The sales pitch had worked, Carena had bought the shoes. And they had been great, had lived up to all the promises---until today. And as she miserably shuffled down the alleyway, following her colleague, Carena was trying to figure out what had happened. Why her feet were wet.

They had almost reached the corner by the time it hit her---the enchantment. The shoes had been so great because of the enchantment. And their research trip had taken her to a place where magic had been cut off. She remembering thinking how strange and hollow her veins feeled, right about the moment when she had stepped into the puddle.

Inwardly, she groaned. But at the same time, it was good to understand what had happened. It also meant that once they were in a more magical-rich environment, the enchantment would recharge and sort itself out. She just needed to wait. Only that patience was a difficult sentiment to come by while her socks were drenched. She did not think that her feet actually made squeaking noises as she kept walking, but she sure felt like her steps were nowhere as quiet as usually.

Mentally still scolding herself for her lack of caution, she almost would have missed Gray's remark, but the word "dating" immediately caused her to focus on their surroundings again. For a split second, she thought that maybe, he had gossip. Then, the full sentence reached her conscious mind and immediately, her little shoe problem was forgotten.

Right, they were near the café. And she had been bemoaning the fact that she was much too busy to check out the new milkshakes for about four days now. What she, despite her interest in the milkshakes, had not been aware of was that apparently, some of the special flavours were only available in the special couple promotion. She gritted her teeth, frustration written across her face. This was why it was a bad idea to let a swarm of love sprites run a restaurant or similar business. They enjoyed their calling a bit too much, she thought.

But Gray's suggestion---it could work. And she really felt like they deserved the treat after the mess they had handled earlier. And even if this little excursion meant that a group of sprites would think that she was dating her colleague, well, there were worse things, right?

"Yes, let's do it," she said as she pondered whether or not offering him her hand would be too much. Probably not, she decided as she extended it towards him. Carena had been in her school's theatre group, she could play pretend for an hour or so if it meant that she got her milkshake. "My roommate's cousin went with her girlfriend and she said that they tried the Raspberry Sunset and that it was like floating on clouds. And maybe we can get some waffles, too."

[unusual-raccoon]

Honeybee, Horse Thief: Chapter 3

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/F!Reader, Arthur Morgan/You

Additional Tags: Chapter 3: Clemens Point (Red Dead Redemption 2), Medium Honor Arthur Morgan, Deputy Arthur Morgan, Bandits & Outlaws, Power Imbalance, Oral Fixation, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, My First Work in This Fandom, Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Multiple Orgasms, Cross Posted on Ao3, Vaginal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count: 6k+

Link

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Summary: After a few days out of town, you return to Rhodes to find things not as you left them. Nor a certain Deputy either.

Tagging: @enemiesandlovers @bimrsadler @delilah-grimes @midnightbeauty35

A/N: Having fleshed out this whole chapter, it seems silly to me that I had once considered cramming the events here into chapter 2. Anyway, still don’t own any characters, just the idea. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please don’t mind any mistakes!

On occasion, contrary to most of your practices, you did manage to happen upon honest work; usually the kind that didn’t involve any kinda scam other than manual labor.

It was how you arrived in the soupy mud of Lagras, being nipped at by flies. Ace’s tail flicked animatedly where you sat on her back.

The pair of you stumbled up to the porch of an older woman in the small fishing village.

You squinted beneath the brim of your hat, regretting the additional layers of your duster and vest in that damp heat. Bronze sunlight sheared through the drooping limbs of weeping willows.

The ground hardly felt solid beneath your feet, like one step into the muck and you’d be sinkin’ straight into the marsh.

You paused in front of the lopsided shack, watching that old woman dust off her porch. She paused and gave you a long look.

“You some kinda bandit?” She called from the porch. She gave a look over your attire, deep-set eyes bracketed by crow’s feet lingered by the gun on your hip. You briefly looked down at yourself, before lifting your gaze back up and shrugged.

“Not at the moment, no.” You wasn’t sure what kinda answer she was lookin’ for, so you gave an honest one.

“You lookin’ fa’ work?” She asked, chewing on a small lump of sugar cane, fibrous and wet tucked in her cheek.

You were lookin’ a little light in the pockets and not opposed to make a bit of cash on the side.

“Suppose so.”

She waved you up the porch. You walked Ace as close to the steps as you could, before dismounting. You passed her a stalk of celery before tying her reins to the wobbly looking railing of the front porch.

Ace stood, head bobbing while contently crunching away on her celery. In the meantime you tried not to get utterly caked in mud on the short trip up the creaky steps.

Your revolver jostled by your hip up the steps, the inside of her shack was as miserably warm as the outside.

“Here”, she mumbled, passing you a tin cup of some coffee that had turned thick and tar-like. Still, you didn’t turn it down, mumbling a quiet thanks.

“Legs ain’t as good ‘s they used ta be.” She huffed, spitting out a pale brown mouthful of chewed up sugar cane, sucked free of all its sweetness. You watched as she poured herself some coffee too from a percolator that had seen better days.

One sip proved the coffee tasted like dirt, just as well it sat thick and bitter on your tongue.

“Need a young’un like ya to get me somethin’ outta that there swamp,” She explained while pulling up a weathered wooden chair.

You braced your hands on your gunbelt as you listened.

“What do you need?” You asked, sipping at your coffee, trying to hide the grimace behind each swallow.

“Treasure in these swamps,” she muttered, the sound of something valuable made the coffee nearly taste sweeter.

“If ya need someone to get it, I’m your gal.” You said chipperly, maybe you’d skim a little off the top for yourself. You didn’t make a habit of being so generous.

“Pay’s decent,” She offered, sinking down into her chair with a groan.

“Suits me just fine - what treasure am I after? Gold? Gems?” Hopefully, some pretty pale blue ones with spots of green, you mused. Weren’t like you were thinkin’ of Callahan all the time, but, more often that not you’d find your mind wandering to the sound of his laughter at the cackle of coyotes at night, the smell of his skin when yours needed washing, the roughened leather of his hat when you squinted beyond the sting of sunlight.

He’d gotten under your skin, in more ways than one.

The older woman let out a bark of laughter, “only gold in these parts is folks teeth,” you frowned, you certainly weren’t above knocking out a few of those.

“Nah, girl, the treasure you gon’ be hunting is the kind we’s can eat - crayfish.”

You let out a disbelieving sigh, greedy as ever, a true thief at heart, you’d gone and eaten with your eyes, or your ears more like in this case. However, you’d given your word and occasionally you did like to follow through with it.

“Fine,” you huffed, “where am I looking?”

She’d given you a map, some instructions and a couple of warnings.

“Keep that pretty horse a’yours away from them pink flowers, a bite and those’ll drop her faster’n a gator. Oh and mind the gators too!”

No pink flowers and stay away from gators, it seemed simple enough. You and Ace certainly had your work cut out for you.

Despite living relatively close to it for most of your life, it had been awhile since you’d ventured into Lemoyne’s swamps and marshes. Suffice it to say you hadn’t missed it.

You spent a total of two days in those swamps, your host however was kind enough to feed you and let you dry off by the small fire in her rickety home. Most meals consisted of blackened bread and a mug of warm ale to soak it in. Salted beef and coffee thick as tar in the morning. Ange was her name, colorful old soul who promised, if ya needed it, she’d always have room for you.

“Ya got a feller?” Ange had asked over breakfast, the saltiness of the tough, dried beef clashed with the overwhelmingly bitter coffee.

You scratched idly at your cheek trying to find the words to explain the image the question conjured in your head. You didn’t think of Jimmy who was your partner in just about everything for the past 3 years. Money, and meals, and if you were drunk enough you’d share your bed too.

No, your brain brimmed with the image of a Deputy with sandy blonde hair and bump on the bridge of his nose and the scar on his chin. You thought of Callahan.

“Sorta,” you replied, running a freshly burned spot on your tongue, courtesy of the coffee, over your bottom teeth.

“Sorta,” she echoed with a snort, chewed strenuously on a tough bit of beef.

Weren’t long after that that you had set off to find more crayfish, digging through the swamp on your hands and knees, praying a gator didn’t take a chunk out of you.

In a total of two days you had lugged back and forth a total of two pounds of crayfish, weren’t exactly easy work, but it was grotesquely honest.

You were a bit proud of yourself for having the stomach for it.

Ange had paid you kindly for it, you were 30 dollars richer, and the thought of robbing the kind woman churned your stomach a bit. You didn’t mention the couple of gator eggs you’d snagged while wading through the mud, knowing the fence at the edge of town paid pretty for those kinds of things.

On the third morning, you fed Ace the twisted root of a burdock plant you’d found, before setting off.

You bid Ange goodbye while she peeled crayfish into a big tin bucket on her front porch.

Ace seemed as grateful to get out of the swamp as you were. Setting off in a jaunty canter towards Rhodes.

You let your mind wander to your favorite Deputy, to his smile, to the clashing coarseness and gentility of his touch. You wondered if Callahan had spent any more quality time with Susanna in the time you’d been gone.

The thought twisted your stomach and made your mouth sour, but you pushed it away and instead chose to focus on the ride as you approached Rhodes.

You tugged on Ace’s reins as you rode into town, pulling her into a skidding stop. Your throat grew tight at the sight of plumes of smoke pouring off into the pale blue sky, distantly from the smoldering remains of Braithwaite Manor.

Tightening your grip on her reins, Ace drew into a slow trot. You could still make out the hearty curls of dark smoke beyond the faded yellow of the local fence, Clem’s trailer.

Sliding off of Ace’s saddle, you kicked up some dirt, your boots seemed to long for the loose reddish dirt in comparison to mud you’d been wading in for the past two days.

“Clem,” you called as you stride the window in his trailer.

“Clem,” you called a second time, your hand falling to your revolver on your hip as tension coiled tight like a cottonmouth in your belly.

“I know you’re in there - listen, I got a couple gator eggs, fresh out the bayou, if you don’t come n’ get ‘em, I’ll take ‘em to someone who will…”

You cocked back the hammer on your revolver while it still sat in your holster with a practiced thumb, listening for the definitive click to let you know your weapon was ready to be fired. You tensed, hand sitting on the smooth cherry wood varnish at the sound of shuffling feet.

You kept your elbow bent, flexible and ready to draw at a moment’s notice.

Soon enough you saw Clem’s face in the window of that cheery yellow trailer. His squinty eyes and dark vest, a few buttons done up wrong.

You uncocked the hammer and blew out a breath.

“You want them eggs?” You asked, letting the tail of your duster fall to cover your sidearm.

“‘Course I want them eggs,” Clem shot back, quickly motioning you over.

“Whatchu hidin’ for then?” You asked, rummaging around your satchel to procure the small parcel that you had wrapped the precious eggs in.

Clem accepted them with eager hands, inspecting the trio of eggs while hunched over the little bench built into the Dutch door of his trailer.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you with squinted eyes.

“Ain’t you heard?” He asked incredulously.

You gave him an expectant look.

“Whole town’s been shot to hell by some bandits or some such.”

Dread settled in your belly like uncooked dough, rising and swelling with every hot breath you swallowed down.

“Bandits?” You questioned thickly, your tongue felt numb, like a piece of stiff rubber caged between your teeth.

“Y’know, outlaws. Sheriff rounded up a posse and everything. More n’twenty men I heard. And the only folk that left were the ones that rode in.” Your brain was still swimming in the information when he gave some more, “Day after that, some fellers went after the Braithwaites too, burned their land to a crisp.”

Your heart sank. You held out a hand for your pay, a thick wad of bills were dropped into your hand. You could still see plumes of smoke spilling off into the sky.

If the Sheriff rounded up a posse, surely his own Deputies were some of the first men enlisted to protect the town?

That dread in your belly grew larger still, you could scarcely breathe with it pressed against your lungs.

A lump caught in your throat, you nodded frantically, stowing your cash in your satchel without bothering to count it. You even missed Clem’s wave goodbye as you hurried straight for Ace.

Stepping into a stirrup, you kept a hand on the horn of the saddle, swiftly pulling yourself up.

Tapping your heels against your little racehorse's sides, Ace gave a short whinny as you spurred her into a brief, but lightning quick sprint.

Your eyes stung and nose wrinkled as the scent of death wafted up from the town, countless bodies lining bullet-hole studded storefronts.

It smelled of sun-baked corpses, your stomach twisted painfully.

Sliding off of Ace’s supple leather saddle in front of the Sheriff’s station, you didn’t bother tying her reins to a hitching post. Climbing up the stairs, you dug your heels in at the sight of Sheriff Gray. The man laid dead on the front porch, a big hole where his face had previously been before a well placed bullet had blown it open. There were maggots writhing in the pink abyss of his open skull.

You nudged at the door, stepping over his corpse. A hand clapped over your mouth and nose to stave off the offending smell. Your eyes watered, Deputy MacGregor - you could tell it was him by the badge on his chest, laid dead inside the Sheriff’s station. His head was blown clean off, a round of buckshot if you’d had to guess. The windows were shattered, pock-marked with bullet holes but even that didn’t do anything to hide the stench.

You looked around the station with stinging eyes for a third body. A large body.

For him.

You didn’t find one. Stepping back over Sheriff Gray’s corpse on the way out.

You took Ace’s reins and led her to the saloon - you needed a drink.

Damn place looked like a ghost town. There were bodies and bullet holes everywhere you looked. And no sign of the one person you was hoping weren’t dead.

Securing her reins to a hitching post, you offered Ace a stale oatcake before heading inside.

Pushing open the swinging doors of the saloon, you paused at the sight of a single broad body sitting at the bar.

The bartender was trying to pour a shot of whiskey, his shaking hands made a mess on the bartop.

“Leave the bottle and go,” you heard a gruff voice order, your heart clawed its way out of your belly. Hope nestled dizzyingly in your chest.

You knew that voice, you heard it husky and breathless in your dreams.

Callahan.

There was the clatter of glass bottles, and the bartender flinched.

You heard the click of a hammer being cocked, you blinked and saw Callahan holding a gun on the man behind the bar.

“I said leave the bottle and go.”

He gestured with the weapon towards the back door of the bar.

“Now.” Callahan grunted, standing firmly until you heard the back door buckle open and just as violently slam shut.

The Deputy slumped into his seat with a grumble, lifting a large brown bottle of whiskey from behind the bar. You watched him drink deeply from the bottle, lips twisting with a grimace as he set the bottle back down.

He stowed his revolver back on his hip in a smooth, practiced motion.

He returned to his drink, mood terribly sour. But you couldn’t have been happier. You’d always been quite the committed actress during your numerous small time cons throughout the years, but you struggled in that moment to keep the soft giddy smile from your lips.

“You’re alive,” You exhaled, chest growing tight as the Deputy didn’t bother glancing over his shoulder to look at you, before taking another pull from the bottle of whiskey.

“So it seems.” He grunted, hand still curled around the neck of the bottle.

“Sheriff’s dead,” you announced, as you took a few steps over to the bar. You sank into the seat beside him, eyes lingering on the wiry hair on the exposed flesh of his brawny forearm. You wanted to run your fingers over the faint raised surface of veins and subtle flexes of tendons that jumped beneath his skin. Sitting in his palm was a six pointed star…

“I know.” He said flatly. He didn’t sound particularly mournful, but you supposed, the whiskey could’ve been to blame.

“Where ya been?” He asked, his voice sounded nearly resentful. A little guilt turned corkscrew in your belly.

“Made a quick buck helpin’ a lady in the swamps.” You offered, leaning your elbows against the bartop as you regarded the Deputy.

“How ‘bout you?” You asked, leaning over the bar to snag yourself a beer.

“Word is Rhodes got shot to hell, and you seem otherwise intact.” You said, cracking the top off the bottle with a swift press of the heel of your palm on the edge of the countertop.

“Where you been?” You added with a curious lift of your brow.

“Oh, I was here,” Callahan grunted, “I was here.” There was something far off in his eyes, something hurting.

You thought of what Clem had told you, about the shootout in town, about them folks, what survived. You thought of Deputy Callahan, spying the six pointed star sitting in his hand instead of being pinned to his chest. You wanted terribly to ask about the events, to get at the truth even though an honest thief like yourself never really cared for it.

Something cold and slippery twisted in your guts as you caught his stare, the heat of it made Lemoyne’s blistering climate feel frigid. Those blue eyes lingered only on you. There was an intensity there, a longing.

Your thighs pressed hard together as you took another sip of your beer.

You watched as the Deputy took one last drink from the bottle of whiskey, a deep draught, before remarking, “Good to see ya, Honeybee.”

With that he abandoned the bottle and his badge on the counter top. Standing from the plush barstool he’d been sitting on. You were suddenly gripped by a feeling you had known before, kneeling on his jacket with his spend sittin’ warm in your belly, he was going to leave again…Yet, this time felt so much more certain.

You could hear each swaggering step as he walked towards the saloon’s swinging double doors. Revolvers jostling and spurs jingling.

“So, that’s it?” You exhaled, shaking hands picking up his badge, the metal, while light, managed to sit heavy in your palm.

“That’s it,” he called back simply, unenthused.

“Yer just gonna leave?” You asked incredulously, sliding off of your barstool to foolishly follow a man you had no right chasin’ after.

“Pretty much. Look, Girlie, I dunno what ya expected-“

What you expected? What you expected? You expected him not to run off again. You had no stomach for his sarcasm at the moment, you were full to the gills with anger and hurt and exasperation. You dragged a hand over your face with a frustrated sigh.

“You can’t just-“ his expression shifted as he turned to face you, lip twitching like he was on the verge of a smile at the prospect of you telling him what to do, but you weren’t even trying to be funny, “The Sheriff’s dead!”

That twitching upper lip lifted over his teeth in a snarl as he took a step towards you.

“Who the hell do you think did that? Hmm?”

You’d never been one for book learnin’ but he couldn’t have spelled it clearer for ya. You stared down at the badge in your hand with renewed understanding. Burned hot in your palm like it had been left over red coals. Felt like you’d swallowed a fishhook and every breath was reeling that hook higher and higher, pulling all of your spasming innards with it. Feller never walked like a lawman because he’d never truly been a lawman…

Your eyes grew a bit damp, you scrubbed at them angrily, crying was for soft-hearted girls who had the luxury of bein’ soft, you wasn’t one a’them.

Your head throbbed like your brain intended to be free of your skull, pounding and pounding at its infernal cage.

Four riders came into town and four left. That fishhook gave a mighty tug at the realization that you was starin’ at one of’em. Your heart was in your throat, all swelled up you could scarcely breathe.

“Who are ya then? Really?” You asked, your mouth taste sour like you was gonna be sick, the slight tang of beer muddied on your palate helped keep the feeling at bay.

“Don’t matter,” He answered gruffly, “Why, you wanna turn me in?”

It mattered - lord, it mattered to you. He mattered to you. You shook your head, that sick feelin’ only got worse.

“No,” you answered definitively and without hesitation, “ain’t got much in this world, but there’s honor among folk like us.”

“‘Folk like us’,” he echoed in a cruel bark of laughter, “you’sa two-bit con artist and a pickpocket,” the words were meant to cut and cut they did.

“I got a bounty on my head in three states - we,” he gestured between the pair of you, “ain’t the same folk.”

You knew what he was trying to do, you’d made enough connections with people throughout the years to know when a feller was trying to cut ties. You wouldn’t let ‘em though, goddamn him, you wouldn’t let him cut and run.

“The hell we ain’t the same folk, mister-“ you paused and dug your teeth into your lower lip. You didn’t even know if Callahan were his real name.

“You don’t know me girl, quit pretendin’ you do.” His words stung and you hated how much they hurt.

Your jaw tensed tight until it hurt.

“Where you headed?” You asked, stubborn as always. You could see his exasperation begin to falter, belaying some fondness beneath.

“Some city called Saint Denis,” he answered honestly with a shrug.

Your head sprang up, watery eyes wide, “That’s my neck a’the woods, lemme at least show y’round the place.”

“It ain’t a leisure trip, Girlie, feller there got somethin’ - someone belongs to us, a young boy.”

The information made you wince, but you weren’t entirely surprised, Saint Denis had a way of preying on young’uns.

“I understand. You’re a wanted feller, ain’t nothin’ I ain’t heard before. Saint Denis ain’t nothing but slick talkers,” you motioned to yourself and saw a hint of a smile lift on his lips, “Big cowpoke like you, you’d stick out like a sore thumb. At least lemme help you find your boy?”

He let out a sigh, rubbing a weathered palm over his facial hair, making it hiss beneath his calluses.

“Why you doin’ this, huh?” He asked, this nameless stranger that had gotten under your skin.

You blew out a breath, “There ain’t nothin’ left for me in Rhodes, mister-“ you caught yourself again, meeting his gaze, something thawed in the blue of his eyes.

“Morgan,” He answered and something dizzy shot to your head at the sliver of truth.

Morgan. Morgan. Morgan.

It was more of him than you’d had before.

“Well, Mister Morgan, was you who said next folk I should go robbin’ with should know how to shoot - from the looks a’things, you and your crew know how to shoot.”

He ducked his head, the brim of his hat doing little to hide the curl of a genuine smile on his lips.

“Shit,” he grunted, eyes terribly blue, “that’s my fault, ain’t it?”

“‘Fraid so,” you added, trying to bite down your smile to keep it from growing too wide.

“I know you don’t think we’re the same folk, but, I-“ you paused trying to find the words to articulate the feelings what twisted up your innards and ripped through ‘em like a fishhook, that inexplicable draw that kept you comin’ back to him, “I know we are, I can feel it in my bones, Mister Morgan.”

“Arthur,” he grunted.

He gave a commiserating nod and a firm few steps in your direction before seizing you hard by the jaw. Your breath seized in your chest and you stared into the menacing, wild blue of his eyes.

“You call me Arthur,” he exhaled, body trembling like there was an animal caged in his chest, “Go on, say it.”

You sucked in a breath, licking your lips, savoring the occurrence like it was some fine wine or decadent meal.

“Arthur,” you breathed and the reality made you dizzy, he held you hard, grunting like an animal before kissing you harder. His mouth was hungry and savage and you responded in kind.

You pawed at his chest, tearing your nails over whatever you could feel. Running your nails, chipped and ragged from days digging around the swamp, through the fur-trimmed lining of his leather vest. You tasted blood and weren’t sure whose it was, but it was sweet. His big hands groped at ya, feverish beneath your clothes. You felt him squeeze hard at your rear and squealed into his mouth.

His mouth tasted victorious, like a triumph on your part, something hard earned. You’d wormed your way into his life, like a vine snaking up a garden wall. Stubborn and unyielding until that vine and that brick wall were one.

He sucked at your neck and you cried out, you knocked his hat from his head, tugging on his hair, it had gotten a little longer; not yet reaching his shoulders but close to it.

He pulled away from your skin, eyes dark and ravenous, hands holding you firm to his broad chest.

“We ain’t leavin’ here until you scream that name proper, y’understand?”

You nodded in a daze, sort of deranged and giddy, whining, starved for his mouth again. Then you remembered what you’d promised. It was hard to think with your pulse poundin’ between your legs.

“What about-“

“We leave for Saint Denis first thing tomorrow.” He explained, tipping back your hat gently to play with some of your hair. Since he’d gone and made you think with yer brain even though your cunt was drooling somethin’ fierce between your thighs, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking a question.

“What was you doin’ in town anyway?” You asked, head tilted back so he could leave a fiery trail of kisses down to your collarbones.

He paused, lifted his head, a few sandy blonde strands hanging in his eyes, cheeks a ruddy shade when he mumbled, “Waitin’.”

He needn’t say more for you to understand his meaning, to gather what, or in this instance, who he was waitin’ on.

You tugged at the open fur-lined flap of his vest, savagely pressing your lips to his. Your tongue wound up in his mouth, soaking up the sound of his groan.

He swept you up in his arms, the buckle of his gunbelt biting you briefly as he folded your legs around his waist.

“Arthur,” you gasped, one arm swiftly catching around the back of his neck to keep you steady.

“Don’t you stop now, Darlin’,” He grunted, starting towards the winding stairs in Rhodes’ saloon.

He hauled you up the stairs and you’re struck with the vivid memory of climbing those stairs in search of him a few days prior.

He’d trimmed his beard shorter, but each kiss against your available skin stung beautifully.

Arthur pushed open the door to a rentable room, not that there was anyone in the saloon to collect a fee. You whined when he dumped you on the mattress. You glanced around, frowning before staring back at him.

“You fucked Susanna in this room!” You accused suddenly, ire only further riled by the cocky lilt of his lips.

“Fucked plenty a’women in this room,” he shrugged, reaching for your booted ankle, sharp smile widened when you tried to kick him, “wanted you to be the last.”

You offered another kick, far weaker and more uninspired than the first. Your anger subsided as the pressure between your thighs doubled. He tugged one boot off, tossing it over his shoulder.

You huffed, “the fuck you waitin’ for then?”

He chuckled, his body eclipsing yours on the bed.

—

Your trousers were bunched around your knees, offering just enough give for you to sit on the hog of that big outlaw; and in truth that was all you really needed.

Your hips bucked a bit when the thick head poked at your sex, slippery and wet and waitin’ to be full. Your brow furrowed with concentration, hand gripped tight on wrought iron headboard. Your vest hung open, the buttons of your shirt were plucked open too, bare breasts bathed in the balmy breath of the man beneath you.

Hair clung to the sweat on your forehead. Your hips rocked experimentally, a moan bubbling up in your throat as the broad tip of his cock sank into you.

“Ain’tchu the prettiest little,” Arthur murmured, voice thick with desire, your face scrunched up, you shifted, slamming your weight down despite the burn that throbbed through your abdomen like a hot knife when you took the entirety of him down to the root, full to the brim, he exhaled raggedly, “devil.”

You shuddered, toes flexing, hips wiggling as you adjusted to the size of him inside you.

“Mmm,” you groaned between your teeth, fumbling beneath you to feel Arthur; you had managed to get his vest off, before he’d gone about attacking your clothes in kind.

“There ya are,” he hummed, full of fondness, giving his hips a rock that made you squirm with unfurling pleasure that tingled to the ends of your toes, “my Honeybee.”

Arthur gave your hip a pat, “you hold on tight now, Darlin’,”

“Rode your horse,” you shot back, “think I can handle you, Mister.”

You threw a wink at him, feeling his grip tense on both hips, jostling you a bit so you felt every goddamned inch of him. Bastard.

“That so?” He asked smugly, and you nodded, lower lip caught between your teeth.

“Uh huh,” you breathed.

“We’ll see about that.” He grinned, giving you a quick slap to the rear.

He raised you up between his palms with all the effort of someone lifting a child’s toy, suddenly dragging you back down his girth, wrenching free an ugly feral sound.

Oh you certainly would see about that.

—

Your voice had gone hoarse somewhere along the way, part from hollering your head off, belting his name to ceiling like he told ya you would, part from each commemorative cigarette y’all chainsmoked after every heaving, sweating, screaming climax.

“I need a drink,” you announced, and Arthur gave a warm chuckle against your back. A brawny forearm draped over your waist.

You started throwing off the sheets, battling with the strong arm that held you firm in bed and the warm mouth trailing wet kisses and the occasional bite against your sweaty skin. You whined at the sting of his teeth, but supposed it was only fair considering all the bites you’d left on ‘em - shoulders, chest, and forearms were all territory you had claimed.

You’d started off craving whiskey, but ended up hankering for a different taste sometime during the struggle. Something strong and musky and hot.

He wrestled you on his chest, letting out a satisfied grumble when you straddled him. Arthur trailed a hand down your bare back, your clothes were long gone. You kissed a sloppy trail down the sloping muscle of his chest, teeth catching on his hip, staring into his eyes.

You wriggled your way between his thighs, working his big, soft cock in your palm until his bloated balls were tense and he was stiff as iron in your palm.

Your tongue teased the flared slit, tasting the familiar musk of him wash over your tastebuds. Your brain were muddy and your cunt slick as you took him into your mouth. There was tang of feminine want on him too, the taste of yourself seemed all the more sinful when stained on him.

You worked the length of him, what part you hadn’t yet urged into your greedy throat, in your hand.

“Lord,” he grunted, head thrown back as a hand flew into your hair, he grumbled something unintelligible, hips urging until you felt him glide into your throat. The ache was familiar and your cunt flexed hungry, you’d missed this. Missed him.

He rumbled the words again, cadence familiar even with the rushing of blood in your ears.

I’m keepin’ you, I’m keepin’ you…

You moaned around him, dipping a frantic hand between your thighs to rub earnestly at your bud.

A firm hand held you still, your nose buried in the dense thicket of sandy blonde curls at his base, he smelled of sweat and salt and saddle leather.

“I know,” he groaned, voice tender and lulling and sympathetic, “You drink yer fill now, Honeybee.”

You urged two fingers into your mess, feeling drying slick and spend matted into your hair down there.

Keep me, you thought, dragging your wet tongue from the weight of his testicles to the crown of his cock, cinching your lips around the tip. You felt his hand in your hair and moaned a grateful sound.

—

You eventually did get yer whiskey, ‘course Arthur had gone and fetched it for you, bursting back into the room, buck nude save for his hat which had been on the main floor along with the alcohol.

It was a pricey bottle of bourbon.

You swallowed down swigs, the taste of him still in your mouth as the pair of you split a tin of assorted biscuits.

There were crumbs stuck to you, and normally you would’ve cared, but you were fuck-drunk, and halfway to drunk-drunk, and couldn’t possibly be bothered.

You rubbed your feet along his shins, twisted up in the sheets, while Arthur tapped a cheap cigarette out of its carton.

You leaned over the side of the bed to get the oil lamp off the side table, neither of you possessing the dexterity to light a match all wore out.

He lit the cigarette and passed the lamp back.

You were drawing patterns through the sweat-dampened smattering of his chest hair. Pressing a kiss to a bruising bite mark you’d left in your frenzy.

“Braithewaite property,” you hummed, leaning forward to take a drag off his cigarette when he offered the end to you, it tasted like his mouth, like smoke and whiskey and you, “you and your folks do that?”

Arthur nodded, blowing out smoke through his nostrils and some through his mouth.

“Yup.”

“Why?” You asked curiously, no malice in your questioning.

“Th’ boy I was tellin’ you ‘bout - old Catherine Braithwaite took ‘em. Realized we was dealin’ with them and the Gray’s; playin’ em both. Sold little Jack to some feller in Saint Denis.”

He took another drag off his cigarette, another bout of twin curls exhaled from his nose.

“So, we paid her a visit, showed her how we feel ‘bout folk touchin’ them what’s ours.” A possessive hand gripped firm on the plush flesh of your rear, holding you close.

“This life - our life, it ain’t easy. We’re hunted out there,” he exhaled, grip softening so his hand could stroke at you all tender.

“You’re outlaws - I got a gun and horse thanks to you, what more’s an outlaw need?” You asked.

“Loyalty.” He replied without hesitation or reservation.

You dropped your chin to his chest, head angled so you could see only him. Only the hair in his eyes and the bump on his nose and the scar on his chin. You thought, if there was ever a man you could be loyal to, it had to be this one.

“Okay…” you exhaled, pressing a fluttering kiss to his sternum.

“Okay.” He rumbled back, his hand playing with your hair as you settled your head atop his chest.

—

The pair of you were up in the late night and early morning. The sun weren’t out, but you were awake.

You washed courtesy of a wash basin in the room, refilling it for Arthur before you started dressing.

It wouldn’t be long until you and he would set out for his group’s camp, and you would ride with him for Saint Denis. You didn’t have much of anything left in Rhodes, some clothes, enough to pad your saddle bags with, a small stash of rainy day funds. You needed to head for your small room on the other side of town, the little lopsided shack you called your own.

Arthur had cleaned off relatively quickly, pouring the water out the window when he was done.

He dressed just as quietly and quickly behind you. You rummaged around on the floor for boot he had thrown into the corner of the room when you two had first arrived. You found it with a smile on your lips, the room felt more like yours now, than it ever did to Susanna.

You tugged on the boot, stomping your foot to get your foot in right.

“Won’t take me long to get what I need, meet you by Clem’s trailer?”

Arthur nodded, watching as you did up your vest over your shirt.

“Sounds good,” he agreed.

You were at the door, hand on the handle when you heard him call out to you.

“Honeybee?” He called, and you turned, head tilted over your shoulder expectantly in his direction, “Don’t forget that dress a’yours.”

And for once since you’d met the man, you didn’t have some smart reply waitin’ on the tip of your tongue…

Just a soft blush and sly smile.

“I won’t.”

[substituted-shinigami]

Bubble Tea

AO3

Characters: Rukia and Renji (RenRuki), with a guest appearance of Yoruichi

Rating: G

Genre: Slice of Life, Friendship, a little Romantic Fluff

Chapter Summary: Relaxing is difficult when you are so used to fighting. Now that the Winter War is over, Rukia and Renji shoot the breeze and talk about the future. (During the Fullbringer Arc timeskip, Author’s Note after the story)

Part of the "We Can't All Be Winners" anthology series of oneshots.

************************************************************************

“Hmmm… Getting to know you without the fangs of death constantly nipping at our heels feels…weird,” Rukia commented suddenly, and a little too casually, one day as she sipped her bubble tea. Renji coughed in surprise. That or he got another tapioca pearl stuck in his throat, Rukia wasn't too sure.

“H-Huh?!" he spluttered, after he had finally begun to recover.

"Well, think about it," Rukia continued, as she settled her cup down beside her upon the park bench. She began to list things off on her fingers, “First it was surviving in Rukongai, then Aizen's betrayal, and then the Winter War. Whenever we were together it felt like our lives were in constant mortal danger. That it was us against the world. But now…now there’s no real threat.”

"Oh yeah…" Renji agreed, looking up to the sky in thought, "I guess, you're right…huh."

“Yeah," Rukia went on as she picked up her cup again, "The only other time it was seemingly this peaceful was when we were separated."

At that, Renji was silent for a moment, before asking quietly, "Kind of makes you wonder whether or not we're cursed, huh?" Rukia turned to look up at him, but Renji continued to stare up at the sky.

"If we are cursed," she began slowly, "then whoever made it, absolutely sucks at making curses," Renji quirked an eyebrow at her as she turned back towards her tea, "Curses are meant to make you the most miserable, but despite the dangers, I'm always more miserable when we're apart." Renji stared at her wide-eyed as she went back to sipping her tea.

"Heh…Yeah…" he agreed quietly with a small smile on his lips. He returned to his tea as well.

"Besides," Rukia went on, "How else am I supposed to watch you blow yourself up with kido." Renji spat out his tea as he fell into coughing fits again.

"Are you trying to make it come out my nose or something?!"

Rukia grinned at him mischievously, "Nooo, of course not, Renji. How could you even think that of little 'ole me?"

"Because it is little 'ole you," he grumbled as he began rummaging into their snack bag for a spare napkin. As he started to mop tea off his gigai’s Red Pineapple shirt, he continued his grievances, "With you around, I'm not just in mortal danger, I'm also in danger of never getting any tea.” Rukia laughed as she grabbed some napkins to help him dry off.

"Still…" she went on after they had finished cleaning up, handing Renji her now tea-filled napkins, "One thing that the danger did do, was give us a clear goal. We always had something to work for or to fight for. Whether it was poverty or war, we always had a clear enemy to defeat. But now… what is it that we are striving for? What do we have to drive us forward? We’re going to help Ichigo get his powers back, obviously, but what then? What happens after that?”

“Well…" Renji began, as he folded up the wet napkins into an easily disposable pile, "I guess, then we get to decide, right? Instead of the world or someone with god-like powers deciding, we get to decide where we want to go and what we want to do.”

“I suppose…” Rukia agreed quietly as she looked back down at her bubble tea, brows knitting together. She watched the tapioca pearls bob about, to and fro, back and forth, drifting along but ultimately going nowhere inside the cup. Rukia frowned, as a million different thoughts, scenarios, and future possibilities began racing through her mind, and she began unconsciously squeezing the plastic container harder and harder in her concentration. Renji turned back towards her and raised a tattooed eyebrow.

“Wait a minute, are you…? You know I didn’t mean you had to figure it all out now, right?! Soul King’s Beard, you take things seriously…” Renji sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He put a hand on her shoulder, and said, “Just take your time figuring it out, alright? And I’ll be right here when you do.” Rukia looked up at him, her brows slowly unfurling and her grip loosening.

“Yeah. Thanks, Renji.”

“What for?" Renji shrugged, "I’m here anyway. Not like you can get rid of me easily.” Rukia smirked at him.

“Heh. That’s true!”

“You don’t have to agree so easily, y’know?!” he grumbled playfully.

“Hey, you said it, not me!" Rukia stated matter-of-factly, fishing into their shared snack bag for a piece of chocolate mochi. She popped it into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully, "Besides, I like it when my friends are hard to get rid of. Means they get to stick around longer…” Renji regarded her somberly, before popping a chocolate mochi into his mouth too.

“Yeah…that’s true.”

They sat there quietly, chewing mochi as they watched the clouds pass them by. Finally, Rukia asked, “So what about you? Got any lofty goals, eh Renji?”

"Hm? Oh, uh…" Renji began, but he hesitated. Now his brows knitted together as he went deathly quiet.

“O-Oh!” Rukia started frantically, “Um… You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to-”

“I want to get stronger,” he stated firmly, “There is…someone I wish to surpass. And even though the reason has changed, the desire has not,” He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky again, “Plus even though Aizen is locked away, one day he may find a way to escape, knowing him...”

“Yeah, that’s true…” Rukia nodded. She looked back up at the clouds again, “I want to get stronger too. Maybe even go for a seated position.” Renji spun towards her.

“Really?! That’s great, Rukia!” Renji exclaimed excitedly, “If you ever want to train together some more, let me know! Heck, I’ll even let you ride on top of Zabimaru’s Bankai!”

“Really?! Sweet!” Rukia exclaimed. She sipped the last few drops of tea using her straw. Then, opening up the cup’s top, she poured the remaining tapioca pearls down into her mouth, smiling broadly as she chewed them heartily. She looked up to see Renji staring at her, “What’s that look for? Got something on my face?”

“Huh? What? Uh, no! Nope! Uh uh! Come on, let’s hurry up and get to Urahara’s to see if he got anything on how we can help Ichigo get his powers back,” Renji said rapidly as he stood up to throw away his cup. Rukia got up quickly and went after him.

“Wait! Wait! Let me eat your pearls!”

“Oh, yeah, here you go.” He switched his cup with hers, and threw hers away. Rukia took his cup, downed his tapioca pearls too, and then handed Renji back the cup, wiping her mouth on her jacket’s sleeve.

“Ah!!! I can’t believe you don’t like them. Why do you even drink Boba if you don’t like 'the Boba'?”

“The pearls’ texture isn't exactly to my taste, but the drinks are still nice and sweet,” Renji explained as he threw away the second cup. He looked back at Rukia, “Well, now you do have something on your face.”

Rukia tried wiping her face again, “Did I get it?”

“No, it’s more to your left. No, your 'other' left!”

“Well, you get it then!”

“Fine, get over here!”

Rukia stepped over to Renji and tilted up her face to him as he fished a napkin out of their shared snack bag. He gently held her chin with one hand and gingerly wiped away the spot of tea with the other. “What am I going to do with you?” He murmured tenderly. Rukia reached up her hand to gently hold onto his wrist.

“No idea,” She smirked, “But just like with you, you can’t get rid of me easily, so I guess you're stuck with me.”

“Heh, yeah. I guess I am,” he agreed warmly. They hadn’t realized they were still tenderly holding onto each other, until they heard someone clear their throat.

“Am I interrupting something?” A familiar feline voice drawled. The two jumped apart to see a black cat sitting on top of the park’s jungle gym. Yoruichi’s facial expressions were hard to read in cat form, but they were pretty sure she looked highly amused.

“Y-Yoruichi! I…I thought we were going to meet you and Urahara at the shop?!” Rukia spluttered frantically.

“Oh, you were! But I was on my way back there when I felt your spiritual pressures. So I thought I might walk over with you all,” Yoruichi yawned as she stretched out her cat body lazily, “Didn’t realize I was in for a show. Now I just wish I had some dinner. Got any snacks left?”

“Yes,” Renji stated flatly, as he balled up and threw away the napkins, “But considering they’re chocolate, and you’re in cat form, maybe we should wait till after we get back to the shop.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, freeloader," Yoruichi teased, causing Renji to whip around on her.

“I don’t even live there anymore! And I worked while I was there, so if anything, you’re the freeloader!”

“Fine. Stick-in-the-mud then!" Yoruichi replied, as she licked her paw, "By the Soul King’s Weirdly Almost Hairless Body, no wonder you and Byakuya-Boy get along…”

Renji was about to protest, when Rukia interrupted him, “W-Wait! The Soul King has almost no hair? Really? I always imagined him with luscious locks and a long, fabulous beard for some reason. Wasn’t there a painting of him back at the Academy…”

“Oh…yeah… I think so too…” Renji agreed.

“U-Uh… Anyway, I think we had better go now!” Yoruichi panicked, suddenly jumping up, “Kisuke is expecting us, and we wouldn’t want to be late just because you two were busy smooching!” Now it was their turn to look frantic.

“We weren’t smooching!” They both shouted in unison.

“Fine! About to smooch then! Let’s go!” Yoruichi said, hopping down from the jungle gym and strutting away. Rukia started after her, but stopped when she saw Renji hanging back. He seemed to be thinking hard about something.

"You okay?"

"Hm?" Renji blinked, "Oh, yeah, yeah. Just thinking about the future is all…"

"Oh? Anything in particular?"

"Um…" he paused and looked ahead towards Yoruichi's retreating frame. Rukia followed his gaze.

"Ah! No worries. Tell me later." She turned back towards the path, and began to walk away again.

"W-Wait! Hold up!" He said as he put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. He waited until Yoruichi had rounded the far corner before continuing, "L-Listen, Rukia, I just wanted to say…no matter what happens, I'm glad we're facing the future together. You…You mean everything to me, and I…well I… Look, just know I’ll always be by your side, alright?!" Renji let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. He looked at Rukia, who was staring back at him with wide eyes.

"Renji…"

"Oi! Are you two coming or not?" Yoruichi yelled from around the corner.

"Yeah, yeah, we're coming!" Renji shouted back at her. He looked back at Rukia, and gave her a toothy grin, "Together then?" She returned his smile with one of her own.

"Yeah. Together," she nodded resolutely, "Let's go."

>>>>>>>>>> Author’s Note <<<<<<<<<<

One day I was thinking about Rukia and her friendships and realized, “Wow, she sure has started a whole lot of those during stressful and/or deadly situations, huh?!” And from that idea, this story was born! Lol

Don’t have as much to say about this one. It’s certainly a lot more chill than the last couple. They really are just sitting around, chatting, shooting the breeze, not much really happens until the end. But I had fun writing it, and I thought eh, maybe people would like it, so here we are! Anyway, thanks for reading!

[rippeds0cks]

6/3/2023

Pics today sucked horrifically. Went to Costco with some buddies, it was nice. The whole time I'm in there I'm thinking of how me n my ex went to Costco once and called it "married life practice." Makes me feel really empty. I have to kill myself as soon as possible I can't keep this up anymore. Currently have drank a shit ton and I'm trying to type this before it fully sets in. Anyways that last pic Is the insane order of events that I had gone thru when waking up in the morning. The first half is normal cause I dream of things like that every night no matter how much I wish I didn't. The second half though was very odd, especially the part where I woke up irl and was actually physically affected by it. Normally The most I'll be physically affected is waking up with a high heart rate and that empty stomach feeling but this was like actually rough. I woke up and my chest physically hurt badly. Like from the skin to my internals it felt tight, so tight I couldn't breathe. Like almost like I was dry drowning or like when baby's bodies forget how to breathe and they almost suffocate due to not being able to breathe. I don't know. My body was also extremely cold. It took a while of sitting under the heater at full blast to even get warm again let alone a normal body temp. I'd like to completely rule out me having a minor heart attack due to the fact I've never dealt with something heart-related before but my heart has been under a lot of duress over the course of my life and stress can cause heart attacks. Normally I wouldn't even consider a heart attack to be something that would happen to me but the fact that my entire chest felt too tight to breathe PLUS my body was cold (possible lack of blood pumping) makes me wonder. After hanging out with my buddies I had a moment of doubt about killing myself cause I thought maybe why not tough it out even if every day is miserable, my body physically hurts, and my mental clarity is slipping. Then my brain started replaying everything and I remembered why the conditions that my body/mind put me through are completely unlivable. It's all good though I'm not sad about it at all. I talked to my mom recently n it'll suck to know she'll be sad for a little while but it'll all be fine in the end anyways. She has another son and overall better kids than me. Same with my dad. I was fighting off tears all day today. I actually almost burst out into tears in the gym but I put my head down and pretended like I was having a huge yawn when I came back up. That way it makes sense why my eyes were watery. Literally everything besides my body decaying could be fixed with just closure on the topic and a long detailed conversation with her but I refuse to ever even think of reaching out cause I pray she has forgotten my existence and is living a happy and fulfilling life right now. It's like they said in the blade runner 2049 movie, "sometimes loving someone means being a stranger." So I will die with these issues with me. No one will know or hear a word about it and I will quite literally drift off to sea with my problems and hopefully sink to the bottom of the ocean with them. Anyways I plan to draw the most heartbreaking gut-wrenching art tomorrow

[shesplayingwithfire]

Playing With Fire

CW: OCs(if y’all don’t like that) OC x Canon(eventual, again if y’all don’t like that)

Characters: Volga, Silva(OC), Lizalfos and Dinolfos  

Tags: Self-Indulgent, A whole village worships Volga, like a cult, Human Sacrifice, Gifted Bride, I’m bad at pacing, Wrote This For Me, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, fat OC, just to keep that in mind, Friends to Lovers

 Month 15(March)

With the arrival of March the forest started to return to the way it had been during summer; full and green.

The deer were more abundant again, animals came out of hibernation.

With a clearer path available Silva was able to visit Kai and Myra again. Volga wanted to send someone with her and won in the end.

He was right, after all: she’d been nearly abducted, then, nearly killed. It was clear she was a target, both in and outside of the caves.

Melusine escorted her, reassuring Silva that she would be fine patrolling the edges of Myra and Kai’s farm until Silva was ready to leave.

“Silva!” Myra hugged Silva tightly, making up for the cold months. They looped arms and started walking to the house. “What’s been happening?”

There was no point in putting it off.

“I was… attacked. Twice.”

Myra stopped in her tracks, dropping Silva’s arm. “Attacked? By who? Oh, Goddesses are you alright?!”

Myra took hold of Silva’s arms, nearly shaking her. Silva reached up and put her hands on Myra’s upper arms.

“Myra, I’m alright now! I’m alright.” Even as she said this she started to tear up, voice cracking.

“Oh, Sil… let’s get you to the house.” Myra wrapped her arm around Silva’s shaking shoulders and they walked to the house.

They made it as far as the porch, sitting on the steps.

“Shh…. It’s alright now. You’re okay.” Myra rubbed Silva’s shoulders and back, Silva’s forehead pressed to her shoulder.

Silva couldn’t help it. She sobbed miserably, the events still sitting heavily on her.

And why shouldn’t they? She’d been attacked in her own home. She’d nearly been kidnapped. She tried to toe the line, she tried not to overstep, and it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

Silva cried until her chest ached, and she had no more tears. Her head throbbed, she was hiccuping, her throat dry.

It took a while for her to calm down again, Myra leaving her only long enough to get her a glass of water. It was blissfully cool on Silva’s aching throat, helping a little. She drained the glass, handing it back.

“Thank you,”

“You’re welcome.” Myra set the glass aside. “What happened? What’s been going on, don’t lie to me. It’s pointless with what just happened.”

Silva sighed. “We had the hatchlings out one day, just to run around a little. Scylla lost her ball in the trees and brush, so I went to go and get it. While in the forest… a man grabbed me from behind. He had a syringe and said he was going to bring me to where I belonged. I managed to scream, and the others came to my rescue, but the man got away.”

Myra scooted closer, putting an arm around Silva once more. “Goddesses… what could he have meant? At least the others were close!”

“Yes, thankfully they were.”

“And… the next time?” Myra hated to bring these things up, but she needed to know.

“The hatchlings have been… influenced by the recent events. By me.” Silva paused to take a breath. “They’ve been learning about human holidays and other human things through me. But the recent events have also left them scared. The hunter attack, my being attacked, us seeing people in the forest. They’re scared.”

“Of course they are, why wouldn’t they be?”

“Some of the adults don’t like this influence I have on the hatchlings. They think it’s my fault they’re afraid. They said I’m corrupting them.”

“So they attacked you.”

“I almost died.”

Myra absorbed this silently. Silva had nearly been killed, in the place, she called home. The thought that she could have lost her best friend, her sister, and never have known it.

It scared her.

“And what did Volga do? Did he punish them? He better have, or I’ll-”

“No, no he punished them!” Silva reassured her quickly. “He banished them. Their families decided to leave with them. They left shortly after.”

“Banishment… fine, that works. As long as they’re away from you.” Myra settled. “Come on, let’s head inside. I’m sure you’re still thirsty, and lunch is soon anyway.”

---

Silva indulged and stayed until the end of the day. She filled Kai in on the events that had transpired and he reacted similarly to his wife. Like her, he settled down when Silva reassured him they were far away.

“Part of me… wants to tell you to leave and come here instead.” He admitted.

“Kai…” Silva looked down.

She couldn’t do that. She loved her home, even with its dangers. She loved the hatchlings and her friends. She loved Volga, she couldn’t just leave.

Besides, what would the village say? What might they do to Kai and Myra? They had always stood out from the others in being her friends, in changing the way they saw Volga when Silva was chosen as tribute.

Silva didn’t want anything to happen to them because of her.

“I know, I know.” Kai sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “Still, it’s how I feel.”

“Thank you, Kai, for caring so much.” Silva felt herself tearing up again.

She made sure to hug both of them tight and for as long as she dared, wanting to show them her love for them.

Soon it was time to leave.

Melusine had hunted herself a meal and patiently waited for Silva to be ready to leave. With her vision, even in the dark, they would make it home safely.

“Silva feeling better now?” She asked as they walked home.

“Oh, yes, very much. Did you enjoy yourself? I know you were patrolling, but it must have been nice to have some time to yourself.”

“Yes, was nice. Been long time.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Silva smiled up at her. “It’ll be dark soon. We should hurry.”

They walked fast, the sun setting not quite as quickly as in winter, but still early. The two made it back to the caves just after sunset, the last rays of light fading in the sky.

Silva stretched, Melusine yawning.

She’d enjoyed her alone time, yes, but it was still a bit boring. Perhaps she was just used to her routine and the presence of her hatchlings and mate.

“Well, thank you for escorting me today, Melusine.”

“You’re welcome. I will see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

They went their separate ways, Silva heading to find Volga, Melusine to her family.

As she walked to find her lover, Silva felt a little… envious. She longed for the day she had a family of her own.

Will it be with Volga? She wondered. We are courting, but that doesn’t guarantee that we’ll get married. Though I do admit…

 I hope it is.

Silva peeked into Volga’s den.

“Darling? I’m back.”

“Don’t come in, I’m in the spring!” Volga called back, just as Silva was around halfway into the room.

She squeaked softly and quickly left. “I’ll be in my den!”

---

Silva was changed into her nightdress by the time Volga came to her den. He settled into her nest like it was his, kissing her cheek.

“How was your day?”

“It was good. I had a good time with Myra and Kai. How was your day?”

“The same as usual; training the others, patrolling.”

“You haven’t… had any trouble, have you?”

“Because of Fafnir and Nidhogg? None so far, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be careful.”

It was true that there were still others that felt the same as those two; several hatchlings had been pulled from the nursery, and several communications were sent out about others joining other tribes.

Silva felt horrible about this. Volga’s tribe was breaking at the seams because of her. Entire families wanting to leave just because of her.

She looked down in shame.

“Silva, there is no fault for you here.” Volga tried to reassure her, but she knew he was wrong.

It was her fault, just for existing in the caves. Because she was human, not dragonkin like them.

“Darling, you’re sweet, but we both know that’s a lie.” She looked up at him. “It is my fault, for being human and being here. For all the troubles that have happened because of me, the strangers outside hunting me, for whatever reason they have.”

“Silva…”

“Volga, there’s no denying that this is because of me.” She looked down at her folded hands.

There was nothing he could say. It was true; had Silva never come to the caves, none of this would have happened.

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. Volga drew her into his lap, holding her tight, trying to soothe her. But what could he do?

“We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

---

The next morning Silva headed to the nursery, she was eager to see the hatchlings. She’d been away for a few days, trying to process. Now she was ready to return to them.

“Hello!” She called as she stepped in.

As expected she was swarmed immediately, the smaller ones holding up their arms and jumping up and down to be picked up, Scylla forwent this and started climbing up Silva’s skirt.

“Scylla!” Silva laughed and plucked her from her thigh, holding her in her arms.

“Ssilva!” Scylla wrapped her little arms around her neck as far as she could, nuzzling Silva’s neck.

“I’ve missed you all. How are you?” Silva wove her way through the crowd to her boulder, sitting down.

“Ssilva… are you alright?” Lumi was worrying her hands, hovering close.

“I’m… I’ll be alright, Lumi. I just need some time.” Silva took a deep breath, wincing when more little claws dug into her leg as another hatchling scaled her leg.

“Nuri…” He climbed into her lap, looking up at her with his tongue partially out. “Hehe! You silly boy.”

Nuri looked pleased with himself.

The older hatchlings were soon herded away by Chilalea and Zysyss for scouting training, waving almost mournful goodbyes to Silva.

For the smaller hatchlings, they went to the keeps so they could run around and play. Silva left briefly to get a book to read to them but was back quickly.

She sat with some of them, reading Little Red Riding Hood to them. She’d been saving this book for a while. Sure, it had a lot of repeat fairy tales, but there were also several with heroic dragons.

Suddenly there was a cry.

“Vritra!” Silva rushed over, kneeling next to the crying hatchling. “What is it?”

“Leg!”

“He fell!” Said Edna, hopping nervously.

“Oh, sweetheart. Here let me see.” Silva reached out and carefully examined the injury.

It was a minor scrape, nothing serious, but to Vritra it was everything. Silva smiled and held her hand over the injury.

“Stop! Witch!”

She jerked at the sudden outcry. “What?”

A Lizalfos she’d never seen before ran over, shoving her away.

“Oof!”

“Witch! No touch child with your filthy magic!” She gathered Vritra into her arms, holding him away from Silva.

“What-”

“What doing?! Put down Vritra!” Lumi rushed over, snatching the frightened hatchling from the strange Lizalfos’ hands.

“Witch was using magic!”

“Silva healer!”

“Witch!” She hissed in anger.

Meanwhile, all Silva could do was watch from where she’d fallen onto her rear, the other hatchlings crowding together and watching in fright.

Lumi set Vritra down and he and Edna ran to the others. Silva scooted back, fear creeping in. Were they going to fight?

The strange Lizalfos suddenly shoved Lumi, trying to get past her to the hatchlings.

Lumi roared, a sound Silva had never heard her make, and lunged at the other, knocking her back and wrestling her on the floor.

The sound alerted any other dragonkin in the keeps, causing them to rush to the area. They tried to intervene, Lumi using her tail to knock them away. One of the bystanders helped Silva to her feet, pulling her away.

“What happening?”

It was Ryuu, the Lizalfos chieftain.

He growled and walked over, forcing the two apart with the help of another.

“What this? Why fight?” He held onto the stranger, who was covered in cuts and forming bruises.

Lumi was held back by a warrior who had tried to interfere before.

“She goes after hatchlings! Goes after Silva!” Lumi started.

“Witch!” She dragged the word out in a deep voice, hissing angrily.

“Silva is healer!” Lumi hissed back.

“Enough! What reason for attack?”

“She is witch! Uses magic on hatchling!”

“Silva heals! Magic is good!”

“Witch!”

There was no reasoning with her.

“Please, I was just-” Silva tried.

“Shut your lying mouth, witch!” The Lizalfos’ head snapped to the side to face her.

Silva flinched.

“Take her away! Send her to cells to calm down.” Ryuu ordered, handing the stranger off to two warriors, who dragged her away kicking and screaming.

Ryuu turned to Silva. “Silva alright?”

“Yes, I was just startled. She only pushed me.”

“Why was Silva using magic?” He didn’t sound accusatory.

“Vritra scraped his knee.”

“No need for magic, but I understand.” Ryuu nodded. “No need for attack. Sorry, will tell Master Volga.”

“Ah, there’s no-”

“There is need.” Ryuu cut her off. He wasn’t being mean or anything, but Silva knew he had a point.

This could escalate.

“I understand,” Silva said quietly.

She looked at the hatchlings, who slowly approached.

“Ssilva?” Vritra snuggled up to her leg. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, sweetheart…” She knelt. “I’m going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

She opened her arms, hatchlings crowding into her embrace.

“It’s going to be fine…”

---

“Master!”

Volga turned to see Ryuu headed for him, concern on his face.

“What is it?”

“Thorne attacked Misss Ssilva.”

“What! Is she alright?”

“Yesss, stopped by Lumi. Also went after hatchlings.”

“She went after the children? Are they hurt?” Not even the children were safe?

“Hatchlings safe, unharmed.”

“Where is Thorne now?” Volga gripped his pike tightly.

“Cells. Sent to calm down. Kept calling Misss Ssilva a witch.” Ryuu shifted his weight.

“A witch? Why?”

“Misss was going to use her magic to heal hurt Vritra.”

“Vritra was hurt?”

“Only scrape.”

“I see. I will go to Thorne, and try to sort this out.” He left Ryuu, who nodded and went back to his duties.

It took a little longer to get to the cells than any other area in the caves.

The cells were purposefully built away, to keep danger away from the residents. It was rarely used.

There were three guards there, two standing near the cell holding Thorne, and another near the entryway to the cells.

“Master.” He greeted, stepping aside.

Volga nodded in acknowledgment, stepping inside.

“Let me speak to her alone.”

The other guards left, safe in the knowledge that their Master could protect himself.

“Thorne.”

The Lizalfos sat against a wall near the middle of the cell, curled up. She didn’t respond.

“Why did you attack the hatchlings?”

“Not attack! Protect!” She shot to her feet. “Protect them from the witch!”

“The witch?”

“The witch you take to your nest. Evil woman, who sent Fafnir and Nidhogg away!”

“Silva is not a witch!” Volga snarled before managing to compose himself. “She’s a good woman.”

“She’s human! Humans are evil! Humans drove us from the valley to start their village! Tried to drag Master into war!”

“Silva is not like those humans!”

“Humans are all the same! She will betray Master!”

“She loves me!”

“Humans lie!”

“Silva has lived among us for over a year now. If she planned to betray me, wouldn’t she have done it by now?”

Thorne was quiet again for a moment.

“She will betray you. Humans are all the same. She’s a witch.”

“Silva is different, her magic is only for healing. She’s gentle and good. She isn’t like the other humans. Silva is one of us now.”

Thorne stopped responding, sitting down and curling up again.

“Thorne.”

She didn’t look at him.

Volga sighed. There would be no getting through to her it seemed. He shook his head. It was understandable. As she’d said, the humans had driven them from the valley into the caves so that they could build their own village.

They had difficulty figuring out how to survive, and how to navigate the caves, at first.

They had lost more than he cared to think about.

“I’ll deal with you later. Make sure she’s fed and given water.”

But Silva is different. He thought as he left. She isn’t afraid of us, telling stories of what animals we must be.

He charged down the halls, lost in thought.

But would my people be happier in a village, like some other tribes? He slowed to a stop. Would they be happier outside of these caves?

He stood there, pondering this. He could always ask, he knew. He could poll the population, and see what the majority thought.

If they wanted a village, he would find a way. Volga would give them a village.

He just needed to know if that was what was wanted.

Volga would gather his people and ask them. What else could he do?

---

He called his people to him in groups, asked his question, and let them think for a while. It was a life-changing decision, after all, of course, they would need time.

Some, however, answered right away.

To Volga’s surprise, the desire for a village was strong among those who answered right away.

They could connect better to other tribes, and maybe set up supply lines.

There were, of course, those who hated the idea altogether. They were loud, angry at the idea of living ‘like humans’.

They seemed somewhat soothed at the idea that they didn’t have to live in the proposed village. If they wanted to stay in the caves, they could, Volga suggesting building the village near enough that this was a possibility.

This was less soothing.

But what else could he do? If the desire for a village was the strongest he wouldn’t deny them. He couldn’t.

It took all day to go through each group, writing down a tally of who was for and who was against the idea.

He went through several sheets of paper and so far, to his surprise, the village was winning.

Volga sat at his desk and tucked his papers away carefully, thinking over his proposal. There would be plenty of wood to build houses with since they’d need to clear the trees for the village.

“Volga?”

He looked over his shoulder, seeing Silva. Of course, it was her. She was the only one who never called him Master.

She walked in, almost looking shy, stopping by his side.

“I… Ryuu told you what happened?” She wasn’t looking at him.

Volga sighed softly and stood, taking her into his arms.

“Yes, my treasure, I heard. I spoke with Thorne, but I don’t believe I got through to her.” He nuzzled her hair.

Silva sighed as well, holding herself close to him. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. There are those with their own beliefs and convictions. It isn’t your fault. You can’t help being Hylian. You can’t help being human.”

Silva buried her face in his chest. He still smelled like leather and cinnamon, but it seemed the cinnamon was stronger today.

They held each other for a while, Silva trying not to wallow in self-pity over the recent events.

“Shall we head to bed?” Volga asked as he pulled away.

Silva nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

They parted ways long enough to change, before slipping into Volga’s nest and each other's arms.

---

The next day Volga received a visit.

“Lixue?”

The other dragon stood in the entryway to the caves, holding several letters.

“I was asked to bring you these since you don’t have a mail system set up.” She walked over, handing the letters to him.

He flipped through them a moment before opening one. He read it over, still somewhat slowly, and sighed.

“I’m assuming all of them are like this. Offering to take in members of my tribe who wish to leave.”

“I assume. Is it that bad for them, having her here?” Lixue put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“For them? Yes. For the rest of us? No, she’s wonderful.”

Lixue suddenly gave a toothy grin. “Wonderful, huh?”

Volga glared at them a moment. “Yes, wonderful. And yes, Lixue, we’re courting.”

“Aww haha! I knew you liked her!” Lixue laughed, but it wasn’t mean.

Volga gave a half-smile, more concerned with the letters. He opened them one by one, and as he’d expected all were the same.

Offers to take in members of his tribe who’d rather leave.

What could he do but tell them of these offers?

He sighed. Would there be a mass exodus from the caves?

Volga hoped not.

“Is there anything I can do?” Lixue asked, head tilted.

“What could you do? If they want to leave, I can’t keep them here.” Volga sighed again.

“I suppose not.” They patted his shoulder again. “In other news, we need to get you set up with a mail line! I’m not always going to play messenger Little Red.”

Volga glared up at her, but there was little heat. She was right, after all. They lacked basic necessities, like mail and supply lines. Things that had been set up by his parents, had deteriorated over time with his lack of care.

“To be honest, Lixue, I’ve been considering building a village.”

Lixue looked at him in shock, jaw dropped a little. “A village? Finally! You’ve been in these caves too long.”

“You can help there,” He offered tentatively.

“Well,” Lixue put a hand to her chin. “You’d need help clearing the land, but your people would be a good start. You’ll need carpenters who know how to build for dragonfolk. There’s quite a bit that goes into building a village. Are you sure you want to?”

“I need to tally the votes first. But I’m hoping to.”

“Well, get it sorted first before I go poking around. We’ll deal with it from there.”

“Alright.”

“Well, I’ll see you later.” Lixue patted his head teasingly.

Volga knocked her hand away with another mild glare, watching her leave. She flew off, Volga sighing again as he looked upon the three letters. He knew two of the writers, Glycon and Errier, but wasn’t sure of the last one.

Who was Daina?

He’d never heard of them.

---

Volga called his people to him in groups again, asking who would like to venture outside of the caves as messengers.

“I warn you, it will likely not be easy. You’ll travel far at times, facing humans and other opposition. You must be strong, and brave.” He informed them.

“How many do you need Master?”

“As many as are willing, or who’d like to take the job. You’ll have other jobs until you are needed, but we need messengers.”

There was a small group who accepted the job. A desire to serve, as well as a desire to explore.

For their first test, he would send a response to Glycon and Errier after informing his people of their offers.

Neither had anything against humans but rarely interacted with them. His people would like that.

Well… they wouldn’t be his people anymore, would they?

He called them together again.

“For those of you who wish to move on to a tribe without humans hear me: there are two who are willing to take you. Come to me, one by one, and tell me your answers.”

For hours he sat, taking names and making sure of who wanted to go where. There were more leaving than he’d expected, and it hurt. He felt like a bad leader, but what else could he do?

Silva’s life was in danger, and he couldn’t let their hatred result in an innocent death. If this was what it took for peace to return to the tribe...

So be it.

When he was finally done, Volga wrote out letters to each dragon. He explained how many wanted where, and that he would wait for their responses before sending the dragonkin who wanted to move.

He handed off the letters, as well as maps to where Glycon and Errier lived, and his messengers were off.

He sat back with a deep exhale.

When he’d taken Silva up on her offer to teach him to read and write, he’d never imagined it would be used for this.

---

Silva was by the river, doing her laundry. She knew today would be tough from the moment she saw Volga with paper in his hands.

He’d smiled sadly at her and went on his way.

She was bent now, scrubbing her dress, wondering how she could cheer him up.

It was her fault, and she knew it. If not for her being human, Hylian, then they wouldn’t want to leave.

But what could she do? It wasn’t like she could change it.

All she could do was try to soothe Volga and the remaining members of the tribe.

She stood and sighed, wringing out her dress.

“What can I do?”

There was nothing she could do.

She put her dress in the basket.

She looked up, measuring the sun and how much daylight was left, but her laundry was done. All she needed to do was take it back to her den to dry.

Silva looked around. “Tanit? I’m ready to go home now.”

Tanit and her small group of guards emerged from all around. There were three of them altogether, spread out through the small area of the forest behind the river.

They waited patiently for Silva to gather her things and walk with them home.

It was slower going with her arms full with a heavy basket, Tanit gently taking it from her eventually with a teasing smile, but they made good time. The sun was still high overhead, it was afternoon, and there was plenty of time left in the day.

What shall I do after hanging my clothes? Silva pondered.

She supposed she could train a little. Much as she loved the hatchlings, it was nice to have a break from them sometimes.

 Volga will be busy. He was still waiting on the return of his messengers from when he sent out the letters the other day. They’ll probably be gone for a while.

There were days when she missed her work in the village, but with how they had been acting she knew it was better to stay away.

“Ssilva, we’re home.” Tanit nudged her gently.

“Hmm? Oh, thank you.” Silva took the basket and said her goodbyes, the group going their separate ways.

“I should probably train a little, I need to get better with my daggers.” She started hanging her clothes, the soft drip of leftover water filling the silence.

---

 A few weeks later

The messengers finally returned, some worse for the wear, but they all returned.

Glycon and Errier were both more than willing to take the ones leaving, both reassuring Volga they would be well cared for.

Volga closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

This is happening. He thought. My people will be separating.

The tribe his parents had led before he was born, was being torn apart.

 It’s not her fault. She can’t help being who she is.

He took another breath and set the letters down.

It was time.

Once more he called his tribe together, a full tribe for the last time.

“Errier and Glycon have both agreed to take those who wish to leave. Select group leaders, and I will give maps to those who can read them.”

It hurt.

He watched groups form, a pit in his stomach.

 Mother, Father… I’ve failed you.

---

Silva stayed away from the main chamber as soon as she heard Volga call for his people to gather. She knew what that meant.

The messengers were back, and they had news.

She stayed away from the nursery, lamenting the decreased size of her groups. They had been overflowing once, and now…

Now they filled the nursery, but it felt like so much less.

Silva remained in her room, curled up in her nest.

 It’s all my fault. Because I’m Hylian, because I came here…

She buried her face in her bedding and wept.

---

At dinner, there were few in the dining hall, friends and families getting ready to depart.

Silva ate alone, Volga too busy to pause for a meal, and, besides, she was in no mood for company.

Once done she cleaned her dishes and went back to her den. She refused to cry anymore, trying to focus her mind on other things.

She took out her drawing pad, going to a sketch of the hatchlings playing.

It only made her sad.

Silva flipped the page over and over, looking for something to take her mind off the looming dark mood that hung over her.

She finally settled on a blank page.

It took her a long moment to decide, but she finally chose her subject.

She drew slowly, meticulously, doing her very best to capture her subject. She wanted it to be perfect.

Time seemed to slow around her, her eyes softening as her picture became clearer.

Each stroke of the pencil was loving, every line planned and placed.

“Silva?”

She was drawn out of her trance by Volga’s voice. “Huh?”

The moment she raised her head it started to buzz, neck aching.

“Agh…” She reached back and rubbed her neck.

“Are you alright?” Volga came over and knelt next to her.

“Yes, I just kept my neck bent too long.” She rubbed her neck some more.

Volga reached out and replaced her hand with his, the warmth sinking into her skin.

“Mmm… that feels nice.” Silva closed her eyes and leaned closer to him.

Volga chuckled softly and kept rubbing as his eyes drifted to the paper.

On it was a beautiful woman, half of her face covered by her long hair. She had a soft smile on her face, a gentle air about her. A simple, but lovely, dress clothed her, and the start of some kind of background was around her.

“Who’s this?”

“Hmm?” Silva opened her eyes and looked down. “It’s… the woman I’ve been seeing in my dreams. I don’t know what she’s called.”

“I see. I wonder who she is, and why she is visiting you.” He wondered if this woman was the source of the voice from his dream.

He drew his hand away and kissed her cheek. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, have you?” Silva flexed her hand a little.

“Yes,” He sighed and leaned his head on her shoulder.

“Darling…”

“Can I stay with you tonight?” His voice was softer than she’d ever heard it.

“Of course, you can.” She kissed his head.

He went to change and she put her drawing pad away.

---

 Volga’s mother and father stood before him at the entrance to the caves, smiling, his tribe behind him.

 Volga reached out, longing filling him.

 His tribe suddenly started filing out around him, leaving the caves.

 “Wait!” He was frozen in place.

 No matter how he plead, they ignored him, leaving en mass without so much as a look behind them.

 His parents' smiles turned to frowns, eyes full of disappointment.

 “Please…”

 Silva walked from behind him.

 “Silva!”

 She stopped in front of his parents, turning to look over her shoulder at him.

 Then she turned back around, and left like the others, his parents following behind her.

 He was a child again, crying helplessly.

 “Don’t leave me!”

Volga jerked awake, eyes shooting open, breathing heavy. Silva lay next to him, facing him, fast asleep, his arm draped over her waist.

Her hand was tucked under her cheek, squishing it slightly, and she let out a soft breath as she snuggled further into her pillow.

Volga let his breathing slow, his heart calm, before moving closer. He brought his hand from her waist and gently touched her cheek. Silva made a little noise and tilted her head slightly, but did not awaken.

He leaned close and kissed her forehead.

“Please, don’t leave me.”

[sukirichi]

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one  ✘  two  ✘  three 

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @bongofrito @7tsumurai @aphnyoturkey​ @stuckindreamland06​ @dogsarenyspiritanimal​ @thebeardedmoon​ @lildreamer93​ @pizzaspirits​ @q-the-rockaholic​ @rogueofbullshit​ @ladywaifuuwrites​ @flochsgirl​ @hamsa-mage @sonic-and-songs​ @vsvwi @misslovingpearl | bolded users can’t be tagged 

[lubdubsworld]

The Devil’s own.

Jungkook x OC

Mafia Au!

Warnings : Non-Con ! Manipulation, Degradation, Shitty hero with no redeeming Qualities you have been warned. ( i mean he does get better but not much.)

Summary : Just Mob Boss Jungkook doing mob boss things.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there , staring at the ceiling and trying to come to terms with what had just happened. It was revolting. It was nauseating. It made me want to claw my own skin off. I stared at the intricate designs , carved into the ceiling, the panels that reflected life and made the room seem bigger than it was. The scent of jasmine and rosemary clung to the sheets and the drapes in the room, cloyingly sweet and meant to arouse the occupants.

I wondered how I’d got here.

I had memories of satin silk sheets and bright lights. My father had always spoiled me, the best of the best only for his only daughter and I’d indulged in luxury to my heart’s content. More shoes than I could possibly wear in a life time. Every season’s collection, straight into my wardrobe whether I asked for it or not. Diamonds and rubies and emeralds set in platinum and gold , jewelry to match my clothes and even my car if I felt like it.

I shut my eyes in despair. I didn’t miss the luxury as much as I missed the solitude. The option to just not do anything. My father hadn’t cared enough to see what I was upto and everyone knew that I was betrothed to Jungkook.

And that meant no dates or party invites because after the third guy got his arm in a sling after accidentally brushing past me , word kind of spread.  Stay away from Elena Gong or the Jeon kid will break your bones.

I shuddered. It had been an obsession, I thought vacantly.

Jungkook had been obsessed, even back then. I just hadn’t paid much heed to him. Because Jungkook back then had been terrifying but also ridiculously endearing in some way. He had seemed for lack of a better word…..insignificant. I was beautiful and rich, never lacked for attention and he was just one among the dozens. Even if I was betrothed to him, I hadn’t given much thought to him.

And Jungkook had taken my indifference in stride. He’d laughed and played around and I hated to admit it, treated me like a queen. Flowers, chocolates and gifts every other day . He would follow me around like a puppy , and I wondered if perhaps my dismissive attitude towards him back then had been a mistake. Did it push him over the edge?

My heart ached fiercely and when I finally willed myself to move, my body protested.

Every inch of me was sore and aching. My head because of how hard he’d gripped my hair. I sat up on shaky legs, fingers trembling as I pulled my shit up to stare at my body. Bite marks littered my skin, marring the smooth surface and I felt bile in my throat at the memory of his teeth on me.  Finger shaped bruises were beginning to bloom around my thighs and I couldn’t breathe over the agony ripping up my insides.

I glanced down between my thighs, at the sticky mess of his release dripping down into the sheets, staining the sheets a murky pink. I shuddered, disgusted. God, I hated him. Where was my phone? My clothes were still there at the foot of the bed and I noticed the small door on the right wall. Crawling off the bed on shaky legs , I limped carefully to the bathroom.

I took Hoseok’s shirt off dropping it in the corner before turning the showers on.

The water felt like a whip on my skin as I sat on the tiled bathroom floor , a small washcloth gripped tight in my hand as I carefully cleaned myself up. I had no idea what the time was… It must be very early or very late. No matter. I had to get out of here and get to Jisoo. I swallowed, imagining her alone all this time. The doctors had said she would be up in Guilt churned as I quickly grabbed a towel from the closet and wiped myself down.

It took me another ten minutes to finish dressing up and just as I finished slipping into my shoes, the door opened.  I glanced up, catching sight of Hoseok as he leaned against the door. He looked a little haggard, a black silk shirt unbuttoned to his chest and tucked into fitted jeans. I stared at him, watching the way his gaze roved over every inch of exposed skin, looking just a tad bit worried.

“The Hospital called. “ He said gently, “ They’re ready to release you sister. They want to know if you can come pick her up. The baby’s going to have to stay in the NICU for a couple of weeks.”

I groaned. Great. More bills.

“I need a job. “ I said miserably. “ Help me out.” I stared at him beseechingly and Hoseok gave me a look.

“you know the kind of jobs I provide. You’re not built for it. “ He said shortly and I shook my head, impatient.

“that’s not what I meant and you know it. You and your friends pretty much own every club in the city. Get me a job ….” I whispered, moving to stand in front of him and he recoiled.

Just as always, I thought bitterly. Coward.

As much as a coward now as he’d been ten years ago, when he’d pretended that he didn’t have any feelings for me. Pretended that he didn’t give a damn about me.

The throb in my skull grew in intensity.

My throat was dry and I felt my vision swim a bit. I was tired. Exhausted . I hadn’t slept in….how long really? I hadn’t eaten in a day…for sure… And I likely wasn’t going to be eating for a long while, let alone feeding Jisoo if I didn’t get a job right away. I had twelve thousand won to my name and that was it.

“Jungkook-“ He began but I was sick of his name so I growled.

“Fuck, do you want me to beg Hoseok? I will… I can’t … I need a job… Please.” I said desperately, staring at him and his gaze softened.

“Elena, stop looking at me like that, fuck.” He swore, turning and punching the wall hard. “ fuck.”

“Just help me get a job. I’m not asking you to give me money or something.  You don’t even have to get it for me… Just tell me who’s hiring ? Somewhere away from Jungkook and his men.” I whispered , and the sheer irony of it didn’t escape me. Jung Hoseok was possibly one of Jungkook’s main men.

He ran his hand over his forehead, shaking his head.

“You’re going to get me killed someday.” He muttered, “ Fine. There’s a club down in Itaewon. It caters to cops and lawyers exclusively so Jungkook and his men usually keep out of it. My friend owns the place. His name is Im Jaebum.  I’ll get you a job there , waitressing. Is that alright?” He said softly and I wanted to sob in relief as I nodded. Itaewon meant pretty close to where the bakery was. I could take the bus.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him and call you. Here…” He held out a wad of cash and I took it greedily, eyes widening at the 100,000 written on the margin of each note. This was a lot of money.

“Hoseok…”I said stunned and he shrugged. “ Get food and baby stuff for Jisoo. If she’s going to feed the baby she needs to eat well. Fruits and veggies and lot of protein. If you run out, tell Jaebum you need some advance. He’ll pay you well.”

I nodded, stuffing the money into my pockets quickly . I swallowed when my insides throbbed, aching something fierce.

“Thank you.” I said softly, staring up at him and he hesitated, before reaching out and gently cupping my face in his palm. I flinched at his touch and he recoiled.

“Was he… Did he hurt you?” He whispered quietly and I smiled bitterly.

“Wasn’t that the whole point?” I sighed, shaking my head . I hesitated . I wasn’t sure if Hoseok would listen to me but I had to try at least.

“ Can you not tell him? That… That I was a virgin?” I asked quietly and he nodded.

“Wasn’t planning to.” He said casually.

I stared at him. I’d always found him handsome. Beautiful. Perfect . And I wondered where we had gone so wrong.

“Do you regret it.” I whispered. “ All those choices you made.”

“Which ones? …” he asked bitterly.

“you know… “ I snapped. “ the ones that lead us here. You and me…. Standing here like strangers. “

“I wouldn’t risk my life for a stranger. Which is what I’m doing every time I help you .” He said quietly.

“So what are we then?” I demanded.

“Old friends” He said casually.

I snorted.

“Fucking coward.” I whispered , loud enough for him to hear as I brushed past him and walked away.

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

I trudged all the way to the VIP room in the hospital flinching because that was probably a lot of money to be repaid , now owed directly to the devil spawn that was Jeon. I had grabbed a small meal on the way before quickly getting the bus to the Hospital. It was little past eleven in the morning and the hallways were packed with people. Sighing, I moved to the room where Jisoo was, slowly opening the door.

Min Yoongi sat on the chair next to the bed, gazing idly at my sister in law.

To say that I was shocked would be the biggest understatement of the century. My lips parted in shock, panic bubbling up inside me as I exhaled sharply.

“What-“ I swallowed gazing between him and my Jisoo, who was sitting up against the backrest on the bed, a tray of food on her lap and a small smile on her face.

“Lena!! You’re here!” She cried out softly, tears filling her eyes at once as she held both her hands up. I moved to hug her but my mind stayed on the man near the bed, his sultry feline eyes trained unblinkingly on her. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to get my breathing to regulate but it was impossible.

What on earth was Yoongi doing here?

“Mr. Min came to see me. He told me he knew Daehwan.” Jisoo said softly, looking sad but hopeful and I felt my heart turn over as I turned to stare at him.

Min Yoongi knew Daehwan as a target . A hit he had carried out himself.

But I couldn’t say a thing. Not in front of Jisoo.

“I’m only here to offer my help. It pains me to see you suffering, Jisoo. I know your husband would want you to be taken care of.” He said softly, his gaze still fixed on her and I didn’t like it. At all.

Bile rising, I gave him a glare.

“I’ll take care of her. Please don’t trouble yourself.” I said shakily and he glanced at me, lips parting a bit, turning into a smirk.

“You look… well rested.” He smirked and I flushed.

“Lena, come on… I know all this…this must be expensive. We can use all the help we can get and Mr. Min-“

“Please call me Yoongi, sweetheart.” Yoongi said charmingly and my sister in law blushed. I felt my skin crawl.

“Y-Yoongi said he has a spare room. I can’t stay in the bakery.  And it’s not like he’s a murderer or anything. He showed me his card. He’s a lawyer.” She said softly and I sighed in despair. Jisoo was naïve bordering on stupid and I wasn’t equipped to deal with this.

As I watched she went back to the food, eating ravenously and I felt my heart clench. I could see the twin damp spots at her chest and I noticed the breast pump on the table. It looked brand new. I hadn’t even thought about things she may need after the baby, too preoccupied with all the hospital bills and medicines I would have to pay for.

Diapers. Baby wipes. Those little flannel pieces mothers used to wipe down the baby. I felt my head spin, turning to Yoongi who was staring at me casually.

“Can we talk?” I said quietly and he straightened.

“Jisoo ssi… Please enjoy your meal. And here…” He gave her his phone. “ If you’re done, just give me a buzz on this.” He showed her something on the phone .” Go on try it.”

Jisoo pressed down on the screen curiously and Yoongi’s watch rang .

He grinned as she smiled.

“See? One touch and I’ll be here yeah?” He said softly, and I felt like I was stuck in some kind of drama, glancing between the pair of them.

“Are you leaving?” She asked curiously and he shook his head.

“I’ll be right here, outside. Having a word with Elena. You can finish your food and I’m guessing it’s time for you to pump again? The pediatrician said you’d have to pump every two hours with the milk so… if you get it ready, I’ll drop it off at the NICU.” He said calmly.

Jisoo nodded, staring at him with wide eyed gratefulness and I sighed in despair.

Yoongi moved to the door and I gave her a small smile before following him.

I waited till the door had closed behind me before turning to him, furious.

“What do you think you’re-“

“I want her.” He said shortly.

I felt my jaw come unhinged.

“No.” I hissed, furious and helpless with rage. “ Yoongi-“

“Don’t make me put a bullet in your head for this, Elena.” He said calmly and I exhaled shakily.

“She’s… You know she’s not like us. She doesn’t know anything about this life. As far as she knows my brother was a surgeon who got killed in a hit and run. You want to …. What do you really want? Did Jungkook put you upto this?”

“If Jungkook would have his way, your sister in law and your new nephew would both be dead. You know this.” Yoongi said casually. God, could I ever have a conversation with anyone without Jungkook being dragged into it? When did my life get twined so intimately with him?

“Where is he?” I asked quickly and Yoongi shrugged.

“He’s out of the country. He left an hour ago.”

“Switzerland….” I said before thinking and Yoongi stiffened.

“How did you know?” He demanded and I froze.

“I… I overheard …..someone.” I muttered and Yoongi moved so fast I barely caught it. The next second I was pressed up against the wall, his forearm pressing into my throat and holding me down while he held a knife right against my jugular.

“Nice try. Now the truth.” He hissed.

“Ouch..” I choked out , coughing  a bit. “ Fine.. Hoseok.. Hoseok told me.”

Yoongi pulled back.

“You fukcing him?” He asked casually and I glared at him.

“none of your business.” I snapped.

He laughed at that.

“I know you aren’t. Hoseok loves his dick too much to risk having it castrated.”

I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn’t here to talk about these bastards.

“Just leave Jisoo alone.” I said quietly and Yoongi sighed.

“What are you going to do with her, Elena. You can barely afford to feed yourself. You should be thankful I’m taking her off your hands.”

I ignored his nonsense and moved till I was pressed up against him, fingers curling into his chest. Yoongi looked surprised, lips twisting in displeasure when I blinked up at him.

“please.. Yoongi…” I begged, “ Don’t do this to me.” I said quietly. “ I … she’s all I have… She… My brother had nothing to do with any of this. You know that….He left this life decades ago. I don’t… I don’t know why Jungkook wanted him dead in the first place. I loved my brother and my brother loved his wife. I owe it to him … Please…just…Please leave her alone.” I whispered softly, letting my fingers drop to grip his arm.  

He tugged his arm away at once.

“ She needs more than empty platitudes and good intentions. She needs food and a place to stay with her baby. I’m giving her that.”

“And what do you get in return?” I demanded angrily. “ She just gave birth, fuck you. You can’t touch her , not unless you’ve lost the last shreds of humanity in that conscience of yours.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not doing this for sex, Elena. If I wanted easy pussy, I would have come to you…” He smirked.  “ Don’t forget that Jungkook and I share our toys, yeah?”

I opened my mouth to retort before remembering that I was trying to get him to listen to him.

“Then why? What do you want…tell me?”

“I told you. I want her. As she is.” Yoongi shrugged.

“You killed her husband.” I said , voice shaking as I remembered what Jungkook had said. About my brother begging for his life because Jisoo was pregnant. And how Yoongi hadn’t given a shit and shot him anyway.

“A minor inconvenience. Trust me if I’d seen her before I killed him…” He sighed, shaking his head in regret and I frowned.

“You would have spared him? “ I asked bitterly and Yoongi laughed.

“No.. I would have killed him sooner.” He smirked. “ Is there a point to this whole conversation… I’m getting bored and Jisoo’s waiting inside.”

“We’re supposed to get her out of the hospital today and-“

“I’m taking her home.” He said briskly. “ I’ve already spoken to her. And She’s agreed that a ramshackle , dilapidated bakery isn’t the right place for a new mother and a tiny baby.”

And the worst part was that I couldn’t even disagree.

And I couldn’t help but feel angry, betrayed. Jisoo was…. How could she? She hadn’t even bothered to talk to me about it… Just agreeing to move in with Yoongi. She was older than me. Supposed to be the smart one. My body ached. If that was the bed she was going to make , she could lie on it.

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

“Going somewhere?” Jungkook’s voice made me freeze.

I swallowed, straightening and stepping back almost instinctively. He stood in the doorway, a cigarette held between his teeth as he stared at me . He looked like he’d showered as well, hair still damp and the smells of citrus and mint permeating the air around him.

It was exactly ten days since I’d last seen him and I’d settled into a routine of sorts. Im Jaebum’s bar, Venom was an exclusive club in Itaewon and I could easily disappear into the shadows, staying low and using the beret ( a part of the uniform ) to keep my face hidden as I served the patrons. Like Hoseok had said, the place was filled with cops and lawyers. Yoongi was a frequent fixture here , stopping for just a drink on most days before heading home to my sister in law.

It made me sick but there was nothing I could do about it. Jisoo and little baby Yunsu were both home and needed a l,ot of care. And Yoongi apparently had a cook, a housekeeper and a nanny who helped her out. Jisoo was wary, her senses finally returning but she was also clearly glad to be out of the streets.

“I’m going home after I finish my shift. “ I said softly, trying not to stare as he stepped into the room. I turned away from him moving to the shelves and pushing the small canister in place.

“Where’s home?” He asked casually. I flinched when he stepped right behind me, fingers reaching out to curl on my shoulder, pulling me back till I was flush against his chest. The heat of his body seeped in through the thin fabric of my blouse and I felt my body heat up.

“You got what you wanted.” I said shakily. “ Let me go.” I whispered, dropping the cleaning cloth in the tray on the lower shelves, before moving to grab the mop. I just had to finish mopping the floor . And then I could leave.

But his grip on me stayed firm. I couldn’t move. Foreboding rose inside me.

Jungkook hummed at that, stepping closer, till I felt his chin brush the top of my head as he bent over me, arms coming around me  and fingers lightly unbuttoning the first two buttons of my  shirt. I stared at the dark ink on his forearm. , swallowing as he kept coming closer.

“What I wanted? That pathetic little display ten days ago?”  He whispered softly “ Just think about this Elena ……  I’ve been chasing you for years, I got rid of your entire family and yet I let you live. Why do you think that was, huh? “ He shook his head, “ For two minutes of you lying underneath me like a frigid bitch? You think that’s what I want Elena? Think I’ll be satisfied with that? ” He laughed.

I stared at the wall in front of me  and I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t play this sick game with him. Not when he kept changing the rules . Not when there was nothing left for me to gamble or lose.

“Jisoo. I have to go see her. Just… Just let me go see her. I need to see if she’s alright and then we can talk. ” I whispered. Jungkook smiled, tilting my  head to the side with his fingers. I felt the damp press of his lips against my jaw and my skin crawled.

“Don’t worry, Yoongi’s taking care of her.” He whispered softly and I felt my heart turn over in my chest at the reminder. I’d been forced to relent because Yoongi had taken her home to a fully finished and decorated nursery , a closet full of baby clothes for her son and nursing clothes for her. She had been bowled over and when I’d told her to think about the why of it…she’d given me a helpless sort of smile. . As far as she was concerned , Yoongi had been nothing but generous and kind… And she wasn’t going to say no to him because she couldn’t afford to..

“I… he promised me he’d let me see her. And the baby…every day. That was the deal.”

Jungkook laughed.

“I thought I made this clear . You don’t get to make deals with anyone because you belong to me. I get to decide what happens to you. Anytime. Anywhere. Do you need another demonstration , Elena?” His hand moved to my breast, groping the flesh, fingers rough and hard and I whimpered in pain.

“No..” I choked out , eyes widening in terror and he made quick work of the rest of the buttons on my blouse. Junkook hummed, kissing the back of my neck and slowly turning me around in his arms.

“Relax. You don’t have a job. How are you going to feed her and the kid? Yoongi isn’t like me. He doesn’t hold a lot of grudges. And for some reason he seems to have a hard on for your sister in law. He wants to marry her. ” He chuckled and I felt nausea bloom.

“No.. Don’t… Don’t do that to her. She’s not like us. She doesn’t know… She doesn’t have anything to do with this life.” I begged, heart racing at the thought of Jisoo, helpless and scared and alone with a baby , trapped with a fucking assassin. Yoongi killed for a living . That was his job. Jisoo was delicate and sensitive.

“She still needs to eat and live right? With what?  He’s feeling particularly generous so he’s taken her home . You don’t have to worry about them anymore… Isn’t that nice?” he smirked and I felt my throat go dry.

I clenched my fists, feeling my breath catch.

“The only person you need to worry about yourself is yourself. Isn’t that how you prefer it anyway? Beautiful selfish Elena who never gave a fuck about anyone but herself. Isn’t that who you truly are, angel?” He smiled.

“Not anyone…. Just you… I don’t give a fuck about you.” I said defiantly, staring right up at him.  

Jungkook stared at me and stepped closer, reaching out and running his fingers up and down my cheek. I flinched because he still held the lit cigarette.

“None at all?”  He asked curiously, lightly tapping on the end of the cigarette, and I flinched when the hot ash spilled onto my shoulder.

“Did that hurt, baby?” He whispered, leaning in and pressing the cigarette to my lips.” I’m sorry. Breathe in for me.” He stuck the cigarette into my mouth and I pulled away , coughing and disgusted.

I closed my eyes as his free hand went to my wrist, tugging me closer. I stiffened as he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me in till my face pressed against his chest, his body flush against mine, one hand moving back to stroke my back.

“I missed you. You’re terrible at pleasing me but I think…with a little bit of training, you can make me cum… ” He smirked. “ Let’s start with a blowjob, yeah?”

I stiffened.

“No.” I said softly and he smirked, pulling back.

“No?” He asked softly. . I felt my throat go dry in fear as I noticed the way his gaze shifted.   I bit my lips to stifle the pain as He carefully pressed the lit end of the cigarette right against the curve of my breast , pressing in for a couple of seconds and pulling away just before the skin began to singe. He glanced up at me, and I blinked through the tears, pain spreading all over my chest at the burn. That would leave a scar, I thought miserably.

“Wrong answer. Try again.” He whispered.

“Go to Hell.” I choked out.

I flinched when his fingers slipped up into my hair, gripping hard. My scalp burned, sharp and insistent and instinct made me grip his wrist, trying to get him off but it was impossible.

“Let me go..” I snapped, glaring at him. God, How I hated him.

“Was I your first??” He whispered, dragging me close enough that his lips brushed my ear. “ Never had a cock before? Was that why you were so fucking tight?”

I bit my lips, glaring at him, defiant and furious. Did Hoseok actually tell him? That two faced snake…. God , why did these fuckers never leave me alone?

“Seokjin hyung told me…Told me he was looking forward to breaking a virgin and that made me think….God, I was the first cock she ever had….” He hummed, looking infinitely pleased.

“Yes. And I got to say… I don’t know what the fuss is about. You couldn’t even make me cum.” I snapped and Jungkook grinned, grip tightening and the other hand moving to curl around my waist, squeezing hard.

“Did I make you bleed from between your legs Elena? Tell me I did….Cause that’s fucking hot. ” He whispered, voice low and gruff.

Jungkook, I thought vacantly, was a psychopath.

“Go to Lisa. Go fuck her and make her bleed if that’s what gets you off….  and leave me alone.” I whispered and he smiled, bending down pressing a kiss right where he’d burned my skin.

“I don’t need you to tell me that. She’s my fiancé. The woman I’m going to marry. And you know what that means? I actually give a shit whether she cums or not. And trust me she does. Multiple times. Sometimes so hard she passes out.”

“Or maybe she fakes it. Maybe she passes out because she can’t stand your touch either.” I shrugged. “ Because we all know that’s what she’s good at Jungkook. She faked her friendship with me , she’ll fake her loyalty to you.”

“Always got something smart to say, huh Elena? Let’s see how mouthy you get when I’m shoving my cock down your throat.”

I flinched when he pushed me, hard enough to send me sprawling on the floor. I caught myself with difficulty , throwing my hands out to keep my head from hitting the floor. I flinched at the pain that shot up my body, every inch throbbing because of how rough this fucker had been with me.

Ten days and the aftermath of that night still lingered on me.

And it was three in the morning  and I’d spent eight hours on my feet bussing tables , I was exhausted.

I closed my eyes, before pressing my palm against the floor, trying to pull myself up when I felt the press of his shoe at the base of my spine, pushing me down.

I whimpered in shock, my hands giving out and shoulder crashing down into the floor.

“Stay down for a second, baby.” He whispered and I exhaled.

I pressed my palm against the floor, head dropping on to the carpeted floor . I whimpered when I felt him crouch down, foot digging in harder into my back and I curled my fingers into the carpet to swallow the pained sound that bubbled up in my throat.

“I’m going to fuck you again. And this time I want you to do all the work.” Jungkook’s voice came from over me and I flinched. I considered the odds of me putting up a fight and actually winning. It was laughable. I wasn’t going to fight a force of nature. And that was what Jeon Jungkook was.

“ You can’t make me do anything Jungkook.” I whispered finally. “ You can hit me and rape me and kill me but you can’t make me do anything to you. You just have to live with that.”

His foot lifted off my spine and I felt hands on my arms, pulling me up till I was kneeling. I watched as he moved around to stand in front of me.

“Look at me.” He said carefully.” From now you only speak when I tell you to.”

“ Whatever.  Let’s get this over with so I can go see my sister and my nephew.“ I said shakily.

He sighed deeply at that, shaking his head.

“See, if it was upto me, I’d just put a bullet in both their heads. Cos at this point they’re just proving to be a nuisance.”

My blood turned to ice in my veins.

“ But,  Yoongi’s just getting to know your pretty little Jisoo…And he’s my favorite hyung. So I’m going to let her live. But, let’s not invade their privacy for a while.” He began unbuckling his belt and I felt nausea rise inside me.

“Jungkook?” The voice came from the door and I stiffened.  Jungkook groaned.

“Baby, what the fuck are you doing here?” He said gruffly, standing up and using his knee to push me out of the way roughly. I swore, gripping the edge of the table near me to steady myself before turning around to stare at the woman at the door.  I stumbled to my feet, still feeling a little out of it. I needed food. Before I collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“You were supposed to come see me tonight. I went looking for you everywhere and I find you here about to get with some common whore?”  she shouted and I stiffened, glaring at her.

She stood framed in the doorway, staring at me for a second before letting her gaze wander all over the room. She stared at me, eyes taking in the unbuttoned blouse and I quickly moved to put the buttons back on.

“Did you fuck her?” She demanded angrily and Jungkook hummed.

“Since when did I owe you answers, angel?” He asked casually and I watched the woman’s eyes widen, before her brows furrowed in a frown.

“ So what, I can’t ask you who you’re with ?” She asked angrily and Jungkook groaned , kicking out at the nearest stand with enough force to send it toppling over the side, crashing to floor and breaking on impact. I stumbled, back, wrapping my arms around myself as he fairly growled.

“What the fuck is up with all you cunts today?” He demanded, glancing at me in distaste. “ I come back after busting my ass at work for ten entire days . I just needed to get my dick sucked and you two.” He shook his head, hand reaching into his jacket and I felt my eyes widen when he pulled his glock out, releasing the safety and loading the gun before pressing the muzzle right against her skull.

The woman whimpered, hands held up as he tapped the firearm against her.

“You. You don’t come anywhere near me unless I send for you. Is that clear?” He asked sharply and she nodded frantically, abject terror written all over her face.

He turned to me.

“And you. You’re coming with me.” He said quietly and I felt my eyes widen. I opened my mouth to protest but the girl at the door beat me to it.

“I think not…. You’re not taking her anywhere, Jungkook, I’ll-“ She began, reaching forward to grab him and Jungkook moved so quickly, I could barely blink.

The shot rang out , making me jump and I watched as she crumbled to the floor, crying out in pain. I stared in horror, watching the hole in her arm, spilling blood all over the floor and the hallway and my throat went completely dry,  staring at the girl on the floor and the blank, absolutely merciless look on his face.

“Just because I let you sit on my cock once in a while, doesn’t mean you get a say in how I live my life.” He said quietly, using his foot to prod her hip. He glanced at me and I felt my throat go dry as he pulled the glock back to reload it.

He aimed the gun right at me, eyes dark and heavy.

“Are you going to be good for me, baby? Or do you need a physical demonstration as well?” He tilted his head to where the girl was on the floor, pressing her palm against her arm.

“She’s  bleeding out.. “ I choked out. “ you need to get her help, Jungk-“

Another shot rang out and I jumped, heart in my throat as I tried to understand what had happened. It took me a second to realize that he hadn’t shot me. That he had fired at the ceiling.

“Answer the bloody question Elena.” He growled and I flinched, nodding.

“I… I’ll listen… Just…” I glanced back at the poor girl on the floor.” Get her some help.”

Jungkook smiled a little. He turned to the girl on the floor and shook his head.

“Get up baby. Go find Hoseok and get that patched up, yeah? And don’t provoke me the next time, yeah? ” He said casually and she stumbled to her feet, looking disoriented and scared as she moved out of the door.

“ And you. “ He glared at me. “Finish dressing up and follow me.”

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

“Where are we going?” I asked nervously, fighting the instinct to just take off at a sprint, as we walked down the road to where his Mercedes was parked.

“My home. Where else?” He said casually and I stiffened.

“Jungkook-“

“Didn’t I tell you not to speak unless I ask you to, Elena? I’m jet lagged and angry. Trust me , you don’t want to piss me off now.” He said casually and I swallowed.

He opened the door for me, the polite gesture so at odds with what he was doing that my head began to throb.

But I climbed in nonetheless. I stayed quiet for the short ride to his apartment , eyes fixed straight ahead and Jungkook was quiet too. I was too exhausted to be scared, I thought despondently, my eyes drooping because of how long I’d been up. Glancing out the window, I watched the cars whizz by, people living their lives, completely unaware that almost all of them were merely tiny little gears in a machine run exclusively by men like Jungkook. That all their lives, spent working and earning and dying…it was all meaningless. They had no say in anything. People like Jungkook were the ones who got to shape the world to their liking. The ones who got to play God.

And Jungkook was definitely the closest to an omnipotent human I’d ever come across.

Powerful, untouchable and terrifying.

So perhaps, it was a little flattering, that I was the one thing he couldn’t get out of his head.

I glanced at him discreetly.

He was beautiful, I thought with a pang. One of the most beautiful men on this planet. Despite the years, his boyish charm was still right there on his face and he could slip on a plaid shirt , a white t shirt and stone wash jeans and pass off as an innocent college student. I stared at the taut jaw, the long column of his neck and the broad back. His biceps bulged when he gripped the steering when and my eyes lingered on the long fingers curled around the wheel.

I jumped when his hand moved to grip the stick shift , curling on the knob and yanking it back with force. I swallowed, thighs pressing together as my mind shifted to that night in Hoseok’s club. I hated myself for how often I relived it. And not always with disgust.

My fingers fell on the ring on his finger. His engagement ring, I thought with a pang. Lisa. Beautiful, wonderful Lisa who had been a dear friend . Once. For all her shortcomings I knew she loved the man who sat next to me. Cared deeply for him, even. Why else would she do this to me? She must have strong feelings for him , if  it had prompted her to throw away our friendship of over a decade.

“You’re cheating on her then.” I said quietly.  His reminder to not talk to him rang in my head but I couldn’t stop myself. He wasn’t a stranger. And that ring…the ring that promised to bind two people forever….. I’d worn it too. For him.

Jungkook didn’t reply, merely glancing at me in passing.

I sighed, looking at my knees, feeling my shoulders tremble a bit.

“Is she going to be there?” I asked quietly.

He exhaled sharply. I noticed the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“No.”  He said shortly.

“She lives with you right? You said we’re going home ….then where is she-“

“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” He snapped and I swallowed. “ I’m not taking you home to my fiancée Elena, do I look like a fucking idiot? “ He shook his head.

Before I could demand more answers, he was pulling over into a side alley. I watched as he carefully parked the car before stepping out.  Second later, he was coming around and opening the door.

I stared at him, gripping the hem of my blouse, tight. My stomach twisted into knots.

“Can’t you just let me go?” I whispered softly, pride forgotten in the wake of my tiredness. Jungkook stared at me, face eerily blank.

“Get out of the car.”

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

“Like it?” He asked softly and I stood on the threshold, taking in the lavishly decorated apartment on the top floor of the building. I noticed the portrait right up front, a large full sized photo of me and Jungkook from nearly a decade ago, wrapped around each other in a hug , showing off our engagement bands.

“What is this?”

“It was supposed to be your wedding gift. From me. I bought it for you. Nine years ago. Thought you should see it.” He said quietly.

I stayed perfectly still , as he wrapped his hands around me in a hug.

“Why did you leave me, Elena?” He asked quietly and I felt my throat go dry.

“Why do you still have this place? Get rid of it.” I snapped. He laughed at that , pulling away and turning me around till I stared at him.

“ Will you stay here, with me?” He asked softly and I froze.

“You’re out of your mind.” I said shortly.

He hummed.

“Possibly. But then, the problem is this. If I tell you , you can’t leave this place ever again….There’s not much you can do about it, right?” He said thoughtfully and I felt a sob building in my chest.

“I… Don’t.” I said shakily.

“You should see the bedroom. Come.”

His fingers wrapped around my wrist dragging me past the lavish couch and sofa, past a well kept bar onto a wide hallway dimly lit. He stopped at the second door on the right, reaching out to open the lock.  The room was plunged in darkness and I hesitated.

“Go on… After you, Mrs. Jeon.” He said softly . I could feel distaste creeping up my spine at the name, shivering a bit as I stepped into the darkness.

“Can you imagine, if we’d gotten married. This is what our first night together would be like…” He pressed against my back, arms coming around me , so gentle that I shivered.

“Jungkook…what are you doing?” I asked shakily.

“Shush…. “ He whispered, moving to unbutton my blouse again. I grabbed his wrists quickly.

“We aren’t married. I’m not your wife.” I said sharply and I felt him go still behind me.

“Shut your mouth and play along like a good girl.” He said quietly. He shook my hands off, moving to undo the buttons again.

Not sure what he expected, I stayed perfectly still as he hummed, pressing soft feather light kisses down my jaw and past my shoulders. His hands stroked up and down my arm as he laughed .

“Did you miss me Elena…..all these years…” He said quietly. “ Because I missed you. So much.”

He hugged me close, tight and hard.

“Are you scared?” He whispered, “ honey?”

“Oh, God…” I choked out, nausea rising up in my throat at the endearment.

“My wife…” He whispered, pressing a few more kisses against my skin before pushing me a bit towards the bed. “ Should I turn on the lights? I wanna see you.”

He nudged me towards the bed and my legs gave out when I hit the edge of it, legs turning to jelly as I sat on it, shaky and creeped out and terrified. Jungkook moved to turn on the lamp on the bedside table, a soft golden glow lighting up the bed .

“Look at you… so beautiful.” He whispered and I watched as he tugged off his shirt, before moving to his belt. He was watching me like I was something precious. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly and he smiled, running his fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest. He stopped at a large ornate tiger lily, inscribed right over his heart.

“Do you like it?” he said softly. “ I got this for you. My Elena…. As delicate as a lily and as brave as a tiger.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Either fuck me or let me go, I’m not here to talk about-“

He slapped me, so hard that my head whipped to the side, my face feeling like it had caught fire. I gasped, the pain spreading all over my jaw and I couldn’t quite grasp what had just happened. I pressed shaky fingers to the throbbing skin near my mouth, eyes watering at the sting.

“Didn’t I tell you to play along, angel?” He whispered sharply and I closed my eyes , shuddering.

Play along. Do it if you want to get out of here alive. ‘

Fucking psychopath.

“ It’s beautiful, Jungkook.” I whispered softly, glancing at him with teary eyes. He nodded.

“We’ll get one for you too. A wolf. With the initials JK on it…. Right here…” He lightly traced a path over my collarbone and I hoped to God, this was some sick fantasy. That he wasn’t seriously considering tattooing his initials on me.

“Strip for me baby… All of it. I want to see you.” He whispered and I hesitated just long enough to take a deep breath. I reached back, quickly undoing my bra clasp and pulling the fabric off.  I hooked my thumbs into my skirt and my panties, tugging both of them off me, swiftly. I dropped all of it on the floor next to the bed, before moving to kneel in the middle of the bed, staring at him with a smile that felt physically painful.

“I’m going to make you feel good, baby.” He whispered quietly, crawling over on top of me.

“Lay down for me.” He said, and I felt repulsed, as he kissed my lips, soft and gentle, pressing in till I was flat on my back, legs parted so he could lie in between.

It was so different from last time and somehow ten times worse.

Jungkook pressed kisses all over my face, whispering gentle words against my skin that felt like acid.

“So beautiful…. Mine. You were always mine Elena. Mine to touch and mine to break . Mine to love and mine to fuck.”

I stared as he loomed over, his face inches from mine, his gaze deceptively affectionate, his eyes warm and almost soft. I watched as he came closer, his lips closing over mine. Instinctively I kept my lips together but his fingers curled around my thigh, squeezing hard enough to make me whimper, lips parting . He pressed his tongue in then , licking into my mouth and I brought my hands up, instinctively wrapping around the bare skin of his shoulders and my body thrummed at the feeling of his muscles under my fingers.

Curiosity made me foolish, and I found myself tracing the hills and valleys of his skin, fascinated by the way the muscles flexed, every time he moved his arm.

“You like that? I worked hard on those…” He chuckled, watching me curl my fingers around his biceps. He was so… big. I moved my fingers up to the hardness of his chest, splaying my palm on his pecs and my fingers caught a hard little scar, almost perfectly round and deep.

“What is this…” I asked , curious my finger dipping into the healed skin and he hummed.

“Your father . He shot me when I was chasing his car down in Jeju Do. Foolish bastard. Thought he could outrun me.” He laughed .

I glanced at him, catching his eyes and the ebbing laughter , my heart twisting.

“Then why am I here? You hate my father. You killed my entire family. So why am I here, Jungkook?”  I asked foolishly, my heart breaking a bit and he hesitated.

“Because you’re mine.” He said simply.

I closed my eyes in despair.

“If this was our wedding night…. What would you say…?” He asked suddenly.

I stared at him, confused.

“What?”

“If we got married back then… When you were eighteen. And it was our first night together….. what would you say?”

I sighed.

“I’d ask you to ….to be gentle.” I whispered.

He nodded.

“Tell me , then.”

I stared at him, feeling helpless.

“Go on, Elena.” He said again.

“Jungkook…” I began but he shook his head.

“Ggukkie.” He said softly. “ Call me GGukkie… That’s what you used to call me …when we were young.”

I clenched my fists, on his chest, resisting the urge to push him off. That wouldn’t end well for me.

“GGukkie…” I whispered, finally, glancing up at him, licking my lips and parting them gently, eyes as wide as they could go, “ you know its my first time right?”

Jungkook’s eyes fairly danced at that and he hummed, leaning closer.

“Is it, baby?” He asked, reaching up to brush my hair away, fingers gentle on my face.

Get into it. Get into it and get it over with.

“You know it is…” I pouted, “ No one else can touch me. I’m yours , aren’t I GGukkie…”

He laughed, rubbing his nose against mine.

“That you are, kitten.”

Kitten? That’s a new one.

Shut up and stay in character , fuck.

I was so fucking screwed.

“ So… will you be gentle?” I whispered , “ I don’t want it to hurt.”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around me rolling over and taking me with him till I was lying flat on top of him.

“Then how about this angel? You can ride me…. As slow and gentle as you like. Make yourself feel good on my cock, yeah….?”

I stared at him.

I’m gonna fuck you and you’re going to do all the work.

He’d played me like a fiddle.

“Well baby? Go on…. Take my pants off.”

I exhaled angrily, before moving down, to tug on his pants. He helped me take them off kicking off his boxer briefs as well.

That’s a beautiful dick. Objectively. Very pretty.

Shut the fuck up.

“ Get it wet for me baby….” He said softly. I glanced down at the hard length of it, jutting out of the small thatch of hair and felt my mouth go dry . Which would be counterproductive if I wanted to get it wet. So I swirled my tongue around my mouth, trying to get my mouth moist, before leaning down and carefully wrapping my lips around the head.

Fuck, he tastes good.

I shook my head a bit to clear the voice in my head, glancing up at him with my lips stretched around the soft pink head and he was looking right back at me, eyes heavy and dark .

“Go on baby, take more of it in, use your tongue…make me feel good.”

I closed my eyes, letting the spit coat the hard length of his cock, sinking down till the tip began to inch down my throat. I sucked lightly, running my tongues back and forth on whatever skin I could touch and it was like sucking a lollipop except the lollipop was thick enough to stretch my mouth wide and hit the back of my throat.

I felt his hand reach into my hair, gripping hard and I whimpered.

“Be gentle…” I whispered, pulling off and his eyebrows shot up , clearly in surprise . He stared at me for a second, as though considering my request and then his fingers loosened , threading through the strands soothingly.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered . I went back to sucking him off, somehow my natural tendency to work hard making me bob up and down, using my tongue and taking him as deep as I could. I felt a sick sort of satisfaction when he moaned in pleasure and for some damn reason I wanted to draw more sounds out of him.

This is a dream. Either that or you tripped over a pothole and fell into another dimension.

“ Are you wet ? Come here, so I can check….” Jungkook said softly and I pulled off moving up to straddle his hips. I flinched when he reached down, tracing my slit with carefully fingers before slipping in two. I tightened against the intrusion, still sore on the inside and he pulled his fingers out, bringing them up to my mouth.

“Suck…and get them nice and wet if you don’t want it to hurt.” He said quietly and I wrapped my lips around his fingers, letting my spit coat the slender digits.

When he pushed them back into me, the slide was easier , wetter and I gripped his shoulders, trying to relax around him. It felt foreign but also good… I felt good…

I stared down at him, the broad muscled body and the handsome face and for a crazy moment I imagine what it would have been, if I had married him. Would it have been this….this… weird pleasure that was somehow both painful and exhilarating at the same time. I bit my lips as he curled his fingers inside me, rubbing at some spot high up inside me that sent heat shooting straight up my spine, slick dripping out of me and onto the hard planes of his stomach like honey from a comb.

“Now sit on my cock.” He said quietly. I trembled, reaching down to lightly grip his cock, moving till the head lined up right against my slit or where I thought my slit was. Biting my lips, I lowered my body, feeling my body cleave to let him in, his cock pressing in and in and in.

My knees gave out and I slid down the length of him, the sudden, incredible fullness knocking the breath right out of me.

“ Fuck…baby….you alright?” He whispered and it messed with my head, the way he actually looked concerned and worried and I couldn’t take anymore of it.

“Please… Please… I just… I want to go home…” I whimpered, feeling full and stretched out, my thighs trembling and my insides wet and warm and somehow stuck between wanting more and wanting it to end.

Jungkook grunted, fingers curling over both my hips and lifting me lightly and with ease.

“Come on baby…. Ride me….” He whispered, “ Put your hands on my chest and roll your hips, up and down .”

I did as he said, one hand braced against his chest, the other gripping his shoulder as I tried to move on him but it was hopeless. I had no energy or inclination to do this and the pleasure was fast ebbing into frustration. Jungkook seemed to sense it because he growled.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking bad at this… Fine… Just lay there and let me use that stupid cunt of yours.” He snapped,  gripping my waist and folding his knees just enough to brace his feet on the bed. I gasped as I got lifted a bit , his cock slipping in impossibly deeper , the tip nudging close to my cervix , the lightest brush of it send sharp jolts of electric pain pleasure up my spine.

“Oh fuck,..” I breathed as he pistoned into me, hips hitting my ass with brutal force as he fucked up into me and I could only tremble, eyes fluttering shut, fingers going numb from how hard I was gripping him.

“You’re gonna cum today… I’m gonna make you cum on my cock…” He growled, reaching down and pressing his thumb against my clit, rubbing softly, slow circles that were almost gentle compared to the brutal pounding oh his hips and I felt my mouth go slack, wetness slipping out of my tongue and dripping down my chin because of how excruciatingly good it felt, having him so deep, pressing in against the edge of my womb and I and to press my palm, right up against my belly , stunned because of how my body seemed to open and shift to make room for him.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, right inside your womb, fuck…. Gonna carry my babies for me, right sweetheart? Gonna watch you get round and full with my seed , watch you drip milk all over me with those beautiful tits….fuck…”

The shock of his words sent me over the edge, my body clenching down on him as I came, my orgasm so strong that I felt like I was cramping up on the inside and I toppled forward onto him, landing on his chest and bouncing a bit. Jungkook grunted a little, wrapping both his arms around me, holding close as he fucked me right through the aftershocks, body stilling only when I stopped shuddering and I felt warm wetness spill inside me, so deep that I knew I would have to swallow three morning after pills after this, although I was on birth control.

Because one could never be too sure with these things.

Jungkook stayed still under me and it took me a few seconds to catch my breath. I finally levered myself off of him, legs shaking as I rolled over and onto the bed before breathing in huge lungfuls of air.

“Can I go?” I choked out.

Jungkook grunted. “ Get the fuck out of here.”

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

When I stumbled out of the cab, exhausted and out of my mind with self loathing, I didn’t expect to see Hoseok sitting on the pavement outside the bakery, leaning against a streetlight, face warm but determined.

“Hobi?” I asked stunned. “ What are you-“

He cut me off with a kiss.

I stared wide eyed as he pulled me into an embrace, wrapping me in warmth and scent of his cologne, his hands impossibly gentle around me as he all but cradled me against his body, his lips moving gently against mine.

“Elena…” He breathed against my lips, eyes glinting . “ I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. I’m so fucking sorry for being such a coward but you deserve to know… you deserve to know how I feel about you.”

I stared at him in disbelief, my heart pounding as I punched his chest in desperation.

“No… No fuck you… what are you doing…. He’ll kill you…” I hissed and he tightened his arms around me.

“I don’t care.” He hissed. “ I don’t… I can’t just… I can’t let him hurt you like this. I won’t. I’m going to tell him. I’m going to tell him to let you go or lose our friendship.” He said angrily and I trembled.  

My heart raced because Hoseok was the only one I’d ever loved. In every way a girl could love a boy. He was and had always been this confusing breed of brother and friend while everyone had drooled after Jeon Jungkook , I’d always been drawn to him…drawn to his quiet strength and to the way he had always treated me as an equal…

But… but Jungkook…. Jungkook who would put a bullet in his brain without a thought if he thought that Hoseok was trying to move in on something that belonged to him…..

“Hoseok…just… Don’t. I… I love you too…” I breathed out, tired and scared and so fucking worried because what if someone was listening even now..what if word got to Jungkook and he tried to hurt ….i couldn’t even think it.

“Come find me when Jungkook is busy . When he can’t find us…” I said softly, reaching out and pressing my palm against his face.

“I’m not scared of him.” Hoseok growled  and it was ridiculous.  

“But I’m scared of losing you. “ I said quickly. “ We can’t… He can’t know. Ever.”

Hoseok nodded before pulling me close again.

“Was he too rough?” He whispered and I blinked, flushing. I shook my head.

“No.. I. No. I think…”

“I hate that he was the one to touch you, first. You.. You deserve to know how good it can be…. How gentle.. I want to… fuck…” He shook his head pulling away and I wrapped my arms around myself.

“We can’t…” I said quietly. “ you know we can’t.”

He glanced at me, eyes blazing and lips parted and I groaned.

“Don’t look at me like that Hobi…” I whispered, shaking my head.

“Tomorrow. He’s going to Jeju Do , to inspect a new resort. He won’t be back till the day after. Call in sick at work.” He said quietly and I bit my lips, feeling a bit like a whole idiot.

I nodded.

He reached forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

No self preservation skills at all, I thought miserably.  

If Jungkook found out…….

Author’s Note : I’ll add the taglist here tomorrow

[polyghostfacehours]

🏹anon here i’m trying to remember if I’ve requested for you or someone else but could we get a fic where reader kills someone for whatever reason and the boys find them and find it really hard and then they have bloody sex w possible knifeplay (but only If you wanna Ofc) bc that’s all I can think about right now 😌

I had a bad-ish day mentally, so this came out darker than expected. I also tried a different style of writing than usual. I'm really sorry that this took so long Bow! This got long because my fee-fees were working overtime. Also made it pre-relationship, because I'm a slut for best friends to lovers as a trope.

TW: NSFW, homicide, dissociation, knifeplay, bloodplay, woundplay

Poly!Ghostface x Reader - Blood on Your Hands

It felt like liquid heat ripping through your veins, the booming sound of blood rushing in your head like a too-loud swarm of cicadas. It gnashed angrily against your forehead, and the longer you stood there staring at what you'd just done, the louder it got.

Multiple stab wounds, bruising in the neck and collarbone area. You can practically see the headlines as they blaze through your mind's vision. You were going to go to jail. He hadn't even done anything to you yet, just gotten a little too words-y with you, thinly-veiled threats spilling drunkenly from him of what he'd do to your parents, your sibling, your relatives.

The worst part of this though? You felt euphoric. Truly free from the constraints of what society told you was an appropriate way to fight back. Was it undue retribution on your part? Perhaps. But damn if it didn't feel like that first kiss in adolescence, one you have after a shitty date at a roller skating rink with the first decently-attractive kid that promised to pay for your cardboard pizza and have you home by 9.

Your best friends, Billy and Stu, had always had your back. And you had always had theirs. Keeping their secret relationship from their girlfriends, when you had walked in on them one night. Covering their tracks for the illicit activities that you knew were wrong but could ignore because out of sight out of mind and hey, there wasn't anyone else you gave two genuine shits about in this town. Even after secretly witnessing what happened at Woodsboro that fateful night, you played ignorance to their schemes. You'd rather die than lose the two people you've ever had a true connection with.

So standing there at the dead of night, in the middle of the woods that harbored a beaten path towards the river you were planning on having a few joints at, you stared down at the drunkard who'd tried to stake claim to your spot. The man who'd aggressively threatened you, thinking you a young pushover, and the man that now lied in rigor mortis below you. The man who forced you into the visceral rage that'd been building up all these years of your miserable existence. And you did the one thing you thought you could never bring yourself to do.

When the two boys arrived, they came with gloves and tools and heat. Your phone call had shocked them. They didn't know that you had known for years about what they had done at your old hometown. But they had come for you anyway.

It was almost mesmerizing, watching Billy and Stu hack away at the body. It was the first time they'd done so, they had told you. You could see Billy physically try to stop the twisted grin that spread along his face. And if the childlike glee that crossed Stu's face and said anything, it was something he had fantasized about countless nights.

Once they had tied the individual body parts in burlap sacks and stuffed them into Stu's sedan, they had informed you of their plan to burn them in a bonfire deeper within the woods. They offered to drive you home. You refused. Soaked head to toe in drying blood and coagulating viscera, you wanted nothing more than to jump into the still, cold water and bathe in the endorphins that still fogged your mind. You had expected your two friends to shrug their shoulders and leave, opting to wash the blood now coating them in the comforting stream of a hot shower.

instead, they offered to join. You say you were going to get naked. They reply that they didn't mind. And in your hazy state of being, you hadn't noticed the dark, lustful clouds in their eyes; the way their eyes trailed up and down your body and took in whatever you had to offer. Something they had, unbeknownst to you, fantasized about when they were alone, and when they were together.

It didn't take long for the three of you to start touching one another. Under the pretenses of "You've got some blood there" or "let me get that for you" you allowed large, tainted hands to roam over you. Your mind begins to wander. You think of the glint of the knife he had dropped in his inebriation, the glimpses of organs within the gashes from the way you had drove it into him over and over. Flashes of the man's too-purple, too-green face after you strangled his dying body. Disgusting thoughts that sped through your mind like a macabre, lurid kaleidoscope you had never even wanted to look through, but was forced into your eye socket anyway.

Arousal sickeningly stirred in your being, and you could see it stir in theirs, the tips of their erections now bobbing just slightly above the water you three waded in, shame absent in their eyes as you washed each other. When you absentmindedly went to grab Billy's in front of you, in front of his boyfriend who stood just behind you, you were still dazed from all that had happened. His groan startled you out of your trance and you pull your arm back as if he was a match and you had been burned. Red shame covered your face as you stuttered out an apology to the two, you didn't know what was wrong with you, why you did that, "oh god im sorry".

This is all quieted when Stu presses himself against your back, his large hands trailing from their spot on your shoulders, down your arms, and settling on your hips. His hardness pushed against your still bloody back and you gasp. You look back at him questioningly, and where you expected to see blue in his eyes you saw black. Billy moved to grab your jaw and turn you to face him once again. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted to say words that had you almost keeling over.

"Do that again."

So you did. And then the metaphorical dam burst. Pumping him as the three of you stood in the water, you felt Stu press tightly to you, using your back and his stomach to grind his erection between slick skin. His hand reached around to begin rubbing you slowly and just as you're about to collapse from the sudden spark of pleasure, his other arm wrapped around your waist to hold you up.

Billy's grip on your jaw hadn't relinquished, but his other hand had come up to grasp the side of your neck. You were forced to stare him dead in the eyes and he bites his lips and groans as you tighten your grip and twist your wrist. He tells you how good you're working him and Stu chimes in about how hot this was. The moonlight bathing the three of you had Billy looking ethereal, and you couldn't help but try and move forward to kiss him. He wouldn't let you though, a playful smirk on his features as his hand gripped your throat not only from the side, but now wholly. His eyes flickered behind you, and with the cruelty only a man like Billy Loomis could muster, he kisses Stu and turns your head to watch.

If the sight wasn't enough to tow you over the edge, the fingers that moved to enter you finally was. Stu begins pumping them into you, curling to rub that one spot as Billy's chest presses against yours. You let out a pathetic moan, eyes tearing up and body trembling as a the orgasm that had been building finally sweeps over you. The two finish their impromptu make-out session, and turn to look at you.

Unbridled affection pools in their eyes at the sight of their twitching, glaze-eyed, still bloody and beautiful companion. They had had you in all aspects but love, and they could hardly believe they could now finally have you in the way the two had craved for years. In the way the two had spoken of in hushed whispers during and after hot, steamy fucking or a lazy movie marathon. In a way the two had buried deep inside, afraid of the unconventional and afraid of rejection from the only other person they had ever grown to love besides each other.

Billy pushes your still lazily stroking hand off of him and turns you to face Stu, whispering in your ear to "wait just a sec" before wading off back onto the shore to grab something. Stu's lips crash onto yours before you can say a thing, and soon his cock is in your mouth as you kneel further into the water. You look up at him as your lips and tongue work, gliding them along the underside before taking him deep. He stares down at you and the grip of his hand in your hair has you groaning around him, the tremors setting off needy moans in the man himself. He calls you his world, tells you how badly he wanted this, wanted you. How much he and Billy needed you between them, around them, on top of them, below them.

A pair of hands on your shoulders pulls you up and off of Stu. With a noise of indignation, you see Stu shoot Billy a 'what the fuck' look, before a flash of white light passes over his face and a too wide grin appears on his visage. He cackles as you turn around to see what Billy had shown him.

His bowie knife.

"Holy shit."

Was all that could leave your lips. Your loins burned and ached now, the excitement practically palpable on your tongue. With a gesture of the knife, Billy has Stu move you two closer to the shore, so that the water just barely hit his and Stu's knees. With a command of "lift them up." you feel Stu's hands under your thighs as he lifts you off your feet and spreads your legs, allowing you to lean your back against his chest. Billy doesn't ask for consent; he didn't need to. He knew the moment he and Stu had heard what happened that whatever dark shit swirled in their being was present in you as well.

The cold steel of the knife teased your collarbone, the sharp edge pulling a whimper from your mouth just as much as it pulled that unrelenting bubble of fear in your gut. You couldn't taste the steel, but somehow something thick and acetic coated your tongue. Is that how anticipation tastes like? Or were you just imagining Billy fucking your mouth with the knife? You didn't know.

The sharp sting of metal breaking skin pulled you out of your reverie as Billy pulled the knife down your sternum to just above your belly button. Blood pooled as he went, releasing in small rivulets, and you both shuddered. Billy's expression could hardly be contained. It was savage, a toothy grin on his face and he could hardly believe that he was cutting you up. He felt like any second his dick or the world would explode . He leaned down to tongue at the wound, probing the now searing flesh, and you hiss. It hurt, but it didn't. It hurt, but also made you want to cum. Billy's tongue, now sufficiently coated, moved to one of your nipples as he alid his hands along your chest and sides. He could taste both your blood and the dried blood of the man, a combination he thought he'd like but quickly decided against when he noticed the juxtaposition of your sweetness and the acrid taste of the man. He thinks he wants Stu's blood on you next time.

Stu groans at the sight of his boyfriend's tongue on his best friend's bloodied chest, and before you knew it you felt his cockhead probing your entrance before gingerly slipping you down onto him. You gasp at the dual sensations; the sharp pain of Billy's tongue moving back to your wound and the pleasure of Stu slipping inside of you with nary a warning, hitting you deep and well. Stu's grip on the back of your thighs tightens as he begins to languidly move you up and down on his cock.

Billy continues working your chest with his tongue before beginning the path southward. His pupils dilate even further, if possible, at the sight of the blood having trailed down to stain your genitals in crimson. Stu's cock was also now a diluted red color from thrusting in and out of you, both your juices and blood covering him. Billy licked his lips at the slight, leaning forward to begin working you over with his tongue, head dipping down slightly to every so often to lap at Stu as well. It was more for his sick pleasure than either of yours, as Stu's thrusting jostled you too hard for Billy to properly work you over, but the small flicks of tongue that were able to brush your most sensitive area had you whining.

Before long, Stu's movements had become jagged and rushed, and he moved to have his whole arms wrapped around the underside of your thighs and torso, using his hands to grip at his elbows and nearly fold you in half. The new angle hit you just right and once Billy felt he had had enough of a taste, his hand moved to speedily rub you. You almost scream through your second orgasm as it hits, thankful that you were in the middle of the woods and at the river, far from anyone. Your insides clenching and pulling on Stu had him burying his face in your neck, and a few minutes later he releases inside of you with a bite that breaks skin.

Stu slides out of you with a groan, allowing his cum to dribble out of you and into the water. But instead of setting you down, the two move you back onto shore. Billy was once again instructing Stu on where to place you, and as he lays you down on a patch of damp grass, you're surprised to see Billy straddle your abdomen. He regards you for a second, taking in your wet, bloodied visage again for what felt like the thousandth time that night. As his eyes drift to your wound and his cock pulses in front of you, he lowers himself down. Your eyes widen as you begin to understand what he's getting at, and you watch in awe as he uses his thumb to press the underside of his cock to your sternum, onto your wound.

You feel both the hardness of his length on the cut, as well as the softness of his balls begin to slide back and forth and you throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. A whiny noise leaves your lips, and you can hear Billy chuckle and Stu's usual obnoxious laugh. They call you cute, and slutty, and perfect. You think to yourself how absolutely fucked up this is. How perfectly fitting this seems for someone horrible like Billy. He moves his hands to your chest to squeeze whatever you have to give against his length, regardless of how flat or voluminous you are, and his breath hitches as blood is smeared all over your abdomen and his cock.

The pain makes you dizzy in a way that isn't as bad as you thought it'd be. It stings, and it feels too hot. Yet the expressions your best friend (boyfriend?) makes as he glides himself along faster and faster makes it all worth it. In the corner of your eye you see Stu fisting himself rapidly, hard and leaking once again. He makes eye contact with you and grins, moving closer on his knees to now stroke himself almost above your chest next to Billy.

Giving your chest another squeeze and pulling whatever he can even further against his cock, Billy bends himself downward to hover right over your lips. He smiles at you, a real smile, and you smile back. He moves down the rest of the way to kiss you in a way that is somehow chaste and passionate at once. By the time he pulls back, his eyes are glazed and his cock is twitching, and after a long deep groan he releases right onto your wound. The sight brings Stu over the edge, and within a few seconds your chest is absolutely bathed in cum.

The night had begun cold and ended warm. Words of praise for how good you did were thrown your way from the two boys, and the three of you laugh. Neither of you are sure why. Maybe it was the post-sex high. Maybe it was the fact you killed someone and Billy and Stu's first instinct was to fuck you. Maybe it was because the three of you finally were able to come together in the way you had all desperately wanted. Maybe it was the non-verbal acknowledgement that the three of you were the scum of the Earth.

Whatever it was, you were glad for it. The three of you burned the body that night, and later when you laid down in their bed with them your limbs tangled and kisses and make-outs exchanged, the only thoughts that went through your mind is how glad you were to not be alone.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rusted Remnants

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x mutant!Reader

Warnings: past noncon, smut, dirty talk, Stockholm syndrome, violence, mention of human experiments, swearing.

Words: 1924.

Summary: You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother.

____________________

When a bearded man in sunglasses opened the door with a grinding, abrasive sound, you felt both fear and relief - Heisenberg was a mean son of a bitch who couldn’t stand people crossing him on anything, and you learned that the hard way. However, thanks to that insanely strong bastard who could smash in a Lycan’s skull with one swing of his hammer, you were still safe in his hideout, not having to worry about mutilated monsters this place was swarming with.

Besides, even though Heisenberg was as rotten and disgusting as any other Lord, he still had more human in him than Dimitrescu, Beneviento and Moreau altogether.

“Did you miss me, little monster?” He smirked, watching you laying in bed with some cheap romance novel you traded for bullets with the Duke: you had little hobbies since you barely left Heisenberg’s factory.

You rolled your eyes, knowing he hadn’t been home for a couple of days and now needed to get under your skin, feeding off your emotions like Alcina fed off her victims’ blood. It was something like a routine to him: he needed to know you had something human in you, too.

“Who else do you expect me to miss?” you snorted, leaving a worn book with a dirty yellow cover on the bed. “You know I don’t like when you leave for so long.”

“It’s not like I like it either.”

Leaving his monstrous hammer on the table full of blueprints, drawings, nails and all other things you were forbidden to touch, he took his glasses off, and you saw his weary eyes, the blood vessels widened in their white. It didn't happen often, but from time to time Heisenberg would abandon his façade of a smug, careless bastard, and then you could catch a glimpse of a deadly tired man who had long lost any hope to ever free himself from Miranda’s death grip. Something had happened in those couple of days when he had been wandering the woods and catacombs filled with Lycans, Samcăs, and Vârcolacs, and it certainly wasn’t good news if it stripped Heisenberg of his endless complacency.

Quietly slipping away from the bed, you put your shoes on while the man in front of you left his coat hanging on a chair and stilled, his dirty hands on the desk as he stared at it blankly. While he stood there, motionless, you turned on the large faucet in an improvised shower cabin - everything there had been old and rusty, and you needed time to adjust the temperature of water from icy cold to bearable cool or even hot if you were lucky enough. Thankfully, Karl never protested against showering, washing away dry blood, machine oil, muck and filth.

Saying nothing, you carefully lifted his hat, unclasped the belt on his chest and started unbuttoning his dirty shirt - nobody would believe it had been white once. Finally, Heisenberg came back to his senses, smirking and letting you strip him of his clothes, leaving his pants and huge heavy boots on the floor. As he stepped into the shower, he dragged you with him behind the old plastic curtains full of holes, and your nightgown got drenched within a couple of seconds, water pouring over your head. You didn’t protest anymore, knowing the man wouldn’t let you go until he blew off some steam, pushing you into a wet stone wall and wrecking you ass till you started sobbing - he loved when you squeezed his fat cock with your pussy, but Heisenberg couldn’t risk getting you pregnant, leaving his child to be endlessly tortured by that holy bitch until she turned his baby into some fucking monster doll. Sometimes he could buy some condoms from the Duke, but it was still a rare occasion, so most of the time Heisenberg spent using your other holes, filling you to the brim with his cum until he felt satisfied.

"Wearing that white nightgown like some noble slut from Alcina's castle." he growled into your ear from behind, grinding against your ass, his callous fingers gripping your hips as he forced you spread your legs for him. "Did you do it on purpose, baby? Did you want to bounce on my cock so bad?"

Turning your head to him, you didn't get a chance to speak up when the man crashed his mouth into yours, his arm lifting up the drenched fabric of your nightgown and baring your flesh. Landing a loud smack to your ass, he grinned through the kiss: he loved it when you behaved well around him, taking whatever he was giving you like a good girl you were.

You didn’t mind. At first the thought of him touching you had been giving you panic attacks and nausea, but as years flew by, nothing changing in this Hell of a place where sanity was a privilege, you clung to Heisenberg in a desperate attempt to feel human again - even if it was something as primitive as grinding your bodies against each other.

As he rubbed his cock in between your shaking thighs pressed together, you moaned, the water cascading down your bodies while Heisenberg fondled your breasts, biting and nipping his way down your neck.

"You're going nowhere until I fuck the shit out of you."

_________

Breathing in the smell of his Cuban cigars, you watched Heisenberg smoke as he laid close to you, his naked body barely covered by a blanket: his skin was littered with nasty scars, and it seemed like every centimeter of it had once been burned, cut or bitten. Some of them were so old you could barely see them, others relatively knew where the scar tissue was still angry red and thick: most of the time he got them while working on his personal army down there, but with his regenerative abilities they were like a kitten bite to him. Of course, even of they weren't, Heisenberg would still pretend like it was nothing, wearing his shit-eating grin.

"The holy whore is up to something," he says after long minutes of silence, ash falling to the floor from his cigar, "and I don't like that I know fucking nothing of her plans."

You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother. You couldn't call him sane, but he had enough sanity to remember what Miranda did to all of you and how fucking twisted was her desire to have a family. You weren't her children, regardless how many times Moreau was going to call her his mother. Whatever she did to you or those miserable villagers, her cannon fodder, she did only to revive her real daughter, and the thought had been making you sick since the times Heisenberg told you about Miranda's past.

"You think it's something big?"

"Yeah. She keeps disappearing into thin air, and I can't find a trace of her anywhere at all."

You grew silent, staring at the blanket with empty eyes: it certainly wasn't a good sign. Where was she going if even Heisenberg couldn't locate her? Was she crossing the forest to get to the outer world? The last time it happened she brought to the world one more horrifying monster with a face of a little girl. The only thing you knew about her was that she was destroyed a couple of years ago, just a failed experiment like all those Miranda had been involved in.

"I think she partners up with someone, some organization that can give her what she wants like, you knew, she did before." You muttered, and Heisenberg stared at you, narrowing his frightening light eyes.

"With whom could the old bitch partner?"

"I don't know, but I know she brought someone with her, willingly or not."

Now you had his full attention as he turned to you, his eyes burning a hole in your face. "Who did she bring here? How the fuck do you know?"

Rolling over to your stomach and hugging a pillow - a real pillow you got from the Duke a month ago, not that pile of garbage the man had been sleeping on for ages - you let out a loud sigh. You weren’t eager to go exploring the factory even though you knew where his soldiers were, but you couldn't just stay in his room for the rest of your days, and sometimes you would get out for a couple of hours, wandering empty corridors with rusted doors.

At first it was subtle. You knew this place well, but you couldn't sense monsters or people getting in the way Miranda did even after Cadou implantation. You just wandered the same places over and over, collecting semi-precious stones, bullets and other things you could trade for something with a merchant. As the time flew by, the feeling of uneasiness was washing over you as you stepped into certain rooms, got into certain places. There was nothing peculiar there, nothing that would catch your attention, but something was still eating you up as if you knew something wasn't right.

At one point you realized that what disturbed you were things moving from their original places - changes were small, barely noticeable for someone who didn't spend hundreds of hours walking around here, but you could know put your finger on what was wrong. Who was it? You knew it weren't the Lords who had no business here. Besides, the Master of Metal could always feel their presence. Obviously, it weren't humans from the village for whom the factory was sacred, and monsters possessed too little intelligence to put things on their places in the very same order. You thought it could be Mother Miranda, but she wouldn't be sneaky if she really wanted to show Heisenberg his place.

Now it all made sense. You knew the outer world would learn about this place sooner or later, especially after that monster girl incident, and it only proved the idea Miranda brought someone with her.

"I think it's someone smart, Karl. Someone who will either destroy Miranda or try to take control of her - and us, maybe." You said after telling him about your little adventures, and the man smirked, stroking your back. Of course, after her little Eveline had been released into the world, he had thoughts about other organizations having their fair share of Megamycete,

“Someone we can use against her, then.” He whispered, his eyes dark and perceptive as he leant closer, dropping a kiss to your shoulder, his complacency getting back as he sent you a smug grin, slapping your ass loudly. “Good job, little monster. Good job.”

Rolling you over on your back, he got on top of you, pushing your legs apart and licking his lips at the sight of your naked pussy right in front of him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“I’ve forgot to tell you baby," he grinned at you when you squirmed from his touch, his thumb already tracing tiny little circles against your clit. “I’ve got a rubber, so you better milk me dry with that sweet little cunt of yours.”

[electric--blanket]

a place where the heart rests

so, because @thekaiserroll drew fanart of my fanfiction i decided to return the favour by writing a long Wintersberg one-shot based off of her short comic! i hope you enjoy touch-starved Heisenberg.

warnings for death (not for main characters) and some angst.

read on ao3

--

Mama… I want mama. It hurts.

Where’s mama?

Karl Heisenberg always suffered from nightmares. Even before he was taken in by Mother Miranda — as a child, Heisenberg often experienced night terrors that had him screaming in his bed. There were distant memories in the back of his mind, where he’d wake from a terrible dream that had him screaming for his mother — and she’d always come to his side. In that terribly large, cold estate that Heisenberg once called home, it always felt so lonely. But, his mother always eased his fears; with her silk nightgown and the distinct smell of expensive soap. Her soft fingers would comb through Heisenberg’s locks of ashen brown hair, hushing him in a soft tone of voice — a voice he could no longer remember.

During the experiments, it was the only thing Heisenberg begged for when he felt the cadou infesting his body. It felt like a worm wriggling around in the wet soil during a storm, curling and writhing through his organs. He screamed for his mother, wishing she would save him from the pain and take him home again. A seventeen-year-old boy screaming for his mother to come and save him looked utterly pathetic from Mother Miranda’s perspective, and the feeling of fear only intensified when she stroked Heisenberg’s hair whilst he screamed. A soft whisper that uttered, “I’m your mother now, child.” It made Heisenberg nearly vomit.

That was the last time someone had ever touched him so tenderly. He’d not felt a loving touch since then and ducked away from Miranda’s so-called ‘motherly’ touches.

At first, Heisenberg coped with the intense trauma of his bodily changes by taking it in stride and calling his newfound power of magnetism a ‘gift’. He knew deep down it was the opposite: it stopped him from ageing, rendered him infertile and stripped away his dignity by becoming a slave to Miranda. It took a long time for Heisenberg to fully process what had happened to him. His father had left him in the clutches of a madwoman, and his life only got worse from there.

In a fit of rage — perhaps at the age of twenty-nine — he revisited his parent's estate to confront the man he could no longer call ‘father’. He had aged since Heisenberg last saw him, but those steel eyes he’d inherited were still as hard as ever. His mother lingered in a doorway just down the hall, but she didn’t dare come to greet her son as he snapped with a short, interrupted breath. Heisenberg had grabbed his father by the neck and pinned him to the nearest wall, knocking down a beautiful oil painting his mother adored. His fingers didn’t seem to stop, squeezing on the skin and bone until he felt a sickening crack vibrate beneath his fingers.

Heisenberg hadn’t meant it, not really. It was as if a demon had taken control of his body and sought revenge that barely mattered anymore. He didn’t realise what he’d done until he heard the sound of his mother screaming; distraught and fearful of her own son that she’d once coddled so long ago.

That was the last time Heisenberg saw his mother and father. The estate was quickly abandoned not long after, and from what he knew, his mother took her belongings and moved to Austria with some distant relatives. That large house teased Heisenberg every fucking day, with how it towered near the factory grounds and reminded him of what he’d done. Arson wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but Heisenberg couldn’t resist taking a match to the place and watching it burn. Whatever childhood remained in that house was left in a pile of ashes, and he never looked upon it ever again. All of the silly dreams and hopes he’d had for his life were gone.

That was until Ethan Winters showed up. Nearly a hundred years later, Heisenberg felt something he’d sought after for so long — hope.

**

“Karl? Karl—!”

Mama. I want mama. Everything hurts.

Heisenberg forced his eyes open. It felt like his life was replaying in front of him whilst he was passed out; like watching an old film reel repeating itself and becoming more distorted each time. Up until that very night, Heisenberg’s life had been a series of traumatic events and unforgivable actions.

That night, he’d turned it all around just by laying his eyes on Ethan Winters. A man so incredible, resilient and insane… He’d do anything to get his little girl back. It was the man Heisenberg had oh-so wanted his father to be, and he admired that about Ethan. He’d never been so good at expressing his emotions honestly, or even laying out his ideas in a proper fashion to others… Oh, but Ethan was special. He’d shown Heisenberg patience that he’d not been offered before and decided to join him at his side to kill Miranda. Together.

“Karl… Fuck— Don’t die on me, asshole.”

Ethan… Ethan…

Above the metal remnants of what his mutated body had used as a shell, he could hear Ethan pushing the scrap aside to try and find Heisenberg buried beneath it. He could also hear the distinct cries of a distressed baby, something that brought him back to Earth. Heisenberg reached up through the metal until his bare, calloused fingers brushed up against Ethan’s soft knuckles. There was a moment of silence when their skin touched, but Ethan didn’t waste any time in grabbing Heisenberg’s hand and pulling him out.

The moment the pressure around his body ceased, Heisenberg felt the telltale feeling of sickening warmth seeping from many wounds across his body. The cadou inside him didn’t react too well to it, trying to cope with the trauma done by squirming and pulsating inside of him. Heisenberg drank in the expression of Ethan’s relieved face for just a moment, only until it warped into one of worry and horror. Heisenberg was weak, and his knees buckled beneath the weight of his torso before he fell back onto the ground.

The baby cupped carefully in one of Ethan’s arms began to cry again as Ethan jostled her accidentally in an attempt to help Heisenberg. A baby crying wasn’t really helping Heisenberg’s already distressed state, but it made him realise just how fucked he was. There was no way they would get away in time together, and Heisenberg was too injured to walk. The cadou might have helped to some degree, but it didn’t ease the burning pain in his body, and the loss of blood that was making him dizzy.

Ethan’s horrified expression was pinned on an appendage from the Megamycete, which rose up from the cave systems like a flower bud in spring, ready to bloom. The small, red flashing light alerted him to the fact that Chris Redfield had succeeded in planting the bomb. They had to leave.

“Go.”

A silence hung in the air for just a moment, and Heisenberg didn’t realise what he’d just said. For the first time in his miserable existence, he was being selfless and urging Ethan to leave him behind. It was the last thing Heisenberg wanted.

Don’t leave me here. I’m fucking scared. I don’t want to die yet.

“Fuck you,” Ethan’s voice trembled with venom, “I’m not leaving you here now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Heisenberg let out a bitter chuckle, tasting the blood seeping from his gums as he grinned, “I don’t think we have any time to be arguing about this, buttercup.”

“No. I— Mia’s dead, Karl. I need you.”

That’s right. Heisenberg briefly recalled Miranda’s kidnapping of the not-so-innocent woman and the experimentation that followed. Unfortunately, her body gave in due to her state after giving birth and she died on Miranda’s operating table. Ethan’s wife was dead, and Rose was now left without a mother’s loving touch.

“I said go. Rose needs her papa intact, not blown to pieces.” Heisenberg insisted, slumping back against the pile of scrap metal.

“Damn it—” Ethan looked hesitant to leave Heisenberg. It was a truly sweet sentiment: to see someone care about him after all this time. After all of the terrible things he’d done, and the love he’d been deprived of… Someone cared about him. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to die like this.

“Fuck.” Ethan stammered again, licking his dry lips and swallowing, “Karl… I… Thank you.”

“... Yeah. I know, Ethan.”

That was all he needed. A trembling, watery smile shot his way before Ethan held Rose close with both arms and turned to run.

He’s going to be a great father.

Heisenberg looked up at the plant-like form the Megamycete had taken, looming down upon the ceremony courtyard with writhing mold creeping closer to Heisenberg. It was then that he decided that giving in like this wasn’t who he was: he was a fighter to his last breath.

In a last attempt to preserve his life, Heisenberg parted the pile of scrap metal and shuffled beneath it all. He rolled his wrist, the cocoon of metal surrounding him and tightening. The metal creaked, drowning out the sounds of the mold writhing around the metal to try and get inside. Heisenberg closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. I won’t die. Not yet.

The explosion that followed shortly after was deafening, causing the entire ground to shake beneath him and the metal to shudder against his body. It felt painful, rippling off his injured skin like that… But, fortunately for Heisenberg, the explosion wasn’t nuclear — the blast was enough to do the job and wipe out the mold and the Megamycete.

A silence followed the explosion, brick and ash collapsing against Heisenberg’s metal cocoon. Each noise made him flinch, and his fingers twitched instinctively as some final line of defence. He didn’t know how long it was before he felt brave enough to let his guard down and release his telekinetic grip on the metal. The scraps suddenly slumped, collapsing around him as Heisenberg pushed the metal off of his body and emerged like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its former self.

The smoke and dust still remained, causing Heisenberg to cough heavily as he took a sharp inhale of the air. He squinted through the dust and remains of what was left of his home town and realised how much he’d lost. It hit him all at once; his childhood, his parents and his fucked up little family. Even though he hated Miranda and his makeshift siblings deeply, they were all he truly had left to call ‘family’. It was over in the blink of an eye, and Heisenberg suddenly felt like a child all over again. Like a child waking from a nightmare, scared and alone.

Heisenberg’s fingers twitched into tight fists, clamping his mouth shut as tears threatened to spill down his face. Even after all this, he tried to will himself not to cry, to never let down the walls he had so carefully built. But, at that moment there was nothing left to keep the foundations upright. Heisenberg’s fists loosened, and he brought his hands up to cover his face instinctively. A knot seemingly untied itself in his chest and throat, and a guttural sob left him. Maybe — just maybe — it was okay.

**

Navigating the woods was even worse during a snowstorm at night. It was bad enough that Heisenberg’s body was weak from his healing injuries, but it felt haggard from his intense emotional breakdown. In a strange sense, he felt relief from it but at the same time, it felt awfully inconvenient. Heisenberg was sure he looked like a terrible mess; his clothes were torn and his hair was damp with clumps of ash hanging from his silver locks. Not to mention the blood staining his clothes, and his valuable dog tags that hung low on his chest.

In his many idle chats with Ethan before they fought Miranda, he could recall the other man mentioning he didn’t live too far from the village. It was a fair distance away, but not too far that it would be impossible to reach if your car broke down on the road between them. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant or short walk.

By the time Heisenberg even managed to reach a place that looked like a livable home, he was close to collapsing in the snow… But, he held out. The lights were turned off inside, but a motion sensor light on the property turned on once Heisenberg got close enough. The bulb blinded him briefly, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes as he walked up the porch to the door. Heisenberg sluggishly lifted his hand, knocking on the door as hard as he could and leaning against the frame. It took a few moments before he could see a light turn on inside from the windows, and the sound of someone walking down a wooden staircase slowly.

The person on the other side of the door stopped before they reached for the doorknob, and they spoke out.

“Who is it?”

Ethan Winters. That voice Heisenberg had missed so dearly; in all of its glory and full of caution. It almost made him laugh.

“Let me in, Ethan. I’m freezing.”

“Karl?”

“As smart as ever, Ethan. Can you hurry up?”

Ethan was quick to unlock the door and remove the security chain, twisting the doorknob and pulling it open. There, Ethan was standing in a pristine white shirt and some boxers that hung low on his hips… Along with a pair of comical slippers that seemed to resemble a cartoon dog. Heisenberg’s lips twitched into a tired grin.

“Oh my, too much skin, Ethan. Back in my day—”

“Shut up and get in here!”

Ethan grabbed Heisenberg’s arm, tugging him inside to shield him from the snowstorm outside. He slammed the door shut and quickly locked it back up, and the two men finally stood face-to-face. There was a silence that hung in the air, with so many unanswered questions on the tip of Ethan’s tongue, but none came. Without any further hesitation, Ethan threw his arms around Heisenberg’s neck and tugged him close for an embrace.

It was the first time Ethan had touched him in such a way. So full of affection and genuinity, it made Heisenberg’s fingers tremble with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to do with his hands: so overcome with the touches that smothered him. His brows creased into an expression of relief, and Heisenberg’s steel eyes fluttered shut as he succumbed to the hug. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist, squeezing him carefully and burying his face into Ethan’s shoulder. The smell of talcum powder and formula milk permeated his shirt, giving Heisenberg the comfort he craved. He never wanted Ethan to stop touching him, and he was content to stay like this for as long as he could — to make up for all the time he’d lost aching after affection.

“I thought…” Ethan mumbled slowly, “I thought you were dead.”

“Mm.” Heisenberg hummed lowly in response, curling his fingers into Ethan’s shirt. “So did I. Turns out I’m hard to kill.”

Ethan snorted softly.

**

As it turned out, Heisenberg wasn’t too bad with kids.

It was a tough adjustment for the two men at first; Ethan had to keep Heisenberg a well-guarded secret as he was moved to a new location with Rose (courtesy of the BSAA). Heisenberg followed their steps at a safe distance, but he was never too far from them. Understandably, Ethan was moved into a smaller home: a humble bungalow in a quiet German village. Once the BSAA had left Ethan in peace with Rose, it didn’t take long before Heisenberg settled into the bungalow with them.

Ethan had insisted that if Heisenberg was going to stay there with him and Rose, then he’d need to learn to help take care of the baby. At first, he was extremely hesitant to do something akin to a parental figure… But, Rose was a surprisingly sweet baby. She didn’t fuss too much and rarely threw a tantrum over the little things. Rose was the right amount of responsibility for Heisenberg, and that made him a patient parent.

He’d been taught how to properly hold her (after many lectures), how to prepare her formula and change her. Rose was understandably unhappy with Heisenberg’s presence at first, perhaps longing for her mother that was no longer around… But, after a few months, she took to Heisenberg very well.

Because of Karl’s lack of mortality and infertility, he never thought he’d take the figure of a father like this… But, it wasn’t exactly an unwelcome opportunity. He’d even upgraded from sleeping on the couch to Ethan’s bed.

The first night Ethan invited him to bed, Heisenberg could tell from the flustered look on Ethan’s face that it took a lot of courage to ask him to bed. A sexual joke lingered on the tip of Heisenberg’s tongue, but he bit it back in favour of keeping the proposal on the table. Instead, Heisenberg had nodded with a cheeky grin and followed Ethan to bed.

There had been some nights where the loss of Mia hit Ethan harder than he’d liked it to — even after Mia’s work with The Connections was revealed, he had still loved her to a degree. Those nights were the hardest. All Heisenberg could do was hold Ethan in his arms and comfort him with nothing more than his presence.

This invitation into Ethan’s bed was far more intimate than a comforting hug. At first, they stayed a polite distance apart on either side of the bed, with Ethan turned on his side whilst Heisenberg stared up at the dark ceiling. In the darkness, his eyes created shapes that danced across the ceiling and warped before him. Much like the mold that infested him, it was as if it continued to taunt him with its presence. After a moment, Heisenberg finally turned onto his side and glanced at the lump that was Ethan with his back to him. That urge to touch returned to the forefront of Heisenberg’s mind. It was that deep ache in his chest, like a lump of flour stuck in a smooth dough that needed to be coaxed inward.

He reached out but stopped himself before he could touch, trying to plan the best way to move forward with what he wanted. Heisenberg pursed his lips, shuffling his body closer to Ethan’s back until he finally slid his arm over Ethan’s waist. He could feel Ethan’s body freeze and tense up a little, which made Heisenberg’s heart feel like stopping altogether. Had he gone too far?

But after a moment, Ethan relaxed, pressing his chest back into Karl slowly. It was all the permission he needed to slot himself fully against Ethan and quietly seek out his hand. Once Heisenberg found it, he carefully laced their fingers together as he held Ethan like that, tugging him close with his elbow.

No words were spoken in the darkness, but a silent understanding of what they both wanted. Heisenberg finally felt complete like this, closing his eyes and exhaling tiredly. His body suddenly felt tired, releasing all the tension it had been holding trying to psyche himself up to do it.

A feeling of affection swelled in Heisenberg’s chest as he held Ethan, finally giving in to the darkness and drifting away with their bond now stronger than ever.

**

“Are you fucking insane, Ethan?!”

Chris Redfield. A thorn in Heisenberg’s side, but not as bad as Miranda. His voice filling their home put Heisenberg on edge, but it didn’t really matter too much to him. It was around ten in the morning, and the couple had just had breakfast. The television was on, playing some cartoons in the background as Rose was sitting on the soft carpet of the living area with her toys, and Heisenberg sat close to her.

When Chris made an unexpected visit, and he spotted Heisenberg in the living room, the yelling began. Ethan had kept Chris just outside of the room so that Rose didn’t see her father getting angry, and Heisenberg made sure to keep her attention on her toys. Heisenberg was wearing a pair of tartan boxers, along with a button-up pyjama shirt with a white tank top beneath it. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of bedtime fashion, but it made him comfortable enough at night.

When the yelling only got worse and Rose seemed irritated by the noise, Heisenberg carefully brought Rose into his lap and crossed his legs.

“Hmm,” He hummed in feigned thoughtfulness, “Does ol’ Karl need to perform for little Rose again?” Heisenberg sighed dramatically, “Oh, the things I do for you.”

He turned his body subtly to the kitchen area, holding his hand out and focusing on one of the drawers. It slid open, a few tablespoons floating out from a cutlery tray. Heisenberg pulled his hand back, the spoons floating across to the living area and bringing them to a stop in front of him and Rose. With a simple, slow roll of his wrist, the spoons began to twirl and move in a circular motion above Rose.

Her eyes widened with fascination, the corners of her mouth opening into a gleeful smile. Absently, she reached up with her soft, pink hands and tried to reach for the spoons half-heartedly as they continued their motions. A soft laugh bubbled from her, causing Karl to smile softly.

“He’s a dangerous bioweapon, Ethan. He could hurt Rose!”

Heisenberg managed to hone in on those words; a sharp pain digging into his chest when he realised the implications Chris was trying to make. That Heisenberg was a monster. A bioweapon without feeling. A creature that would kill a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ethan pointing wordlessly at the soft scene of Heisenberg with Rose in his lap, entertaining her with spoons. That was all he needed to say, really — without even saying it. Even Chris was at a loss for words, and he quietly relented. Ethan was surely in for an afternoon of lectures.

It made Heisenberg smile a little more, turning his head subtly towards Ethan and catching his gaze. It was his quiet way of saying thank you. It went beyond thanking Ethan for trusting him with Rose but thanking Ethan for listening to Heisenberg, taking him into his home and loving him. Even though they’d never spoken those three little words out loud, maybe they didn’t need to. Their actions, affections and closeness spoke those words loud enough.

Truly, after all this time, Heisenberg didn’t think he was capable of ever being loved or trusted. Now that he’d left that horrible life behind, he was now a father, a friend and possibly a lover. The trauma would always remain, yes, like the cadou and the mutations. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy like this, in this simple little life he’d started to build with Ethan.

Maybe it would be okay.

[secondhand-trash]

If I Only Knew Your Name

A/N: so this was an idea I got while mindlessly picking songs to listen to on Spotify’s Indie rock playlist and came across this one song that just made me want to write something about it hehe accidentally put this aside for a whole month but I’m so glad that it’s here now lmao I had a lot of fun writing this

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: After a drunken night of passion, Atsumu had nothing he could find you with, not even your name. So he took the matter into his own hands and tried to search for you using the power of the internet.

Warning: drunken one night stand, suggestive descriptions, Atsumu is an embarrassment and I sure hope you cringe while you read it as much as I did when I was writing it

Word count: 9453

The song:

Young Love (feat. Laura Marling)//Mystery Jets, Laura Merling

-

One night of love

Nothing more nothing less

One night of love

Had left my heart in a mess

-

You woke up with a sharp pain spiking down your back, in a room you were sure you had never been to, on a bed that wasn’t yours.

Your head was heavy and every cell in your body screaming that you just wanted to fall asleep again when you stirred awake. You would have, had it not been the fact that you were not in your own room slowly started to settle in. There was a brief moment of blankness in your mind as you took in your surroundings. The room was still dim, the sun barely shining through the windows that were half covered by the shades. The domestic messiness crossed out the possibility that you were in a hotel room or some odd space behind the club you clearly remembered being at last night. 

You did not move as your eyes glanced around the space. Trophies and picture frames were lining up on the shelf at the corner, all of names and faces you couldn’t match up with any of the ones that you remembered. The linen covers you were sitting under was sturdy on your skin, a dark red on top of brown sheets that you would have never bought for your mattress. The scent of the fabric was foreign to you, making your morning state of mind more and more alarmed at the amount of information you were trying to take in. You had to admit that it was very soft on the skin, not the slightest bit uncomfortable as it rubbed against your bare arm when the duvet fell off of your body as you sat up.

You felt a moment of frantic terror at the registration of your own bareness, with your legs feeling terribly cramped, waking up on a bed that you did not remember getting into.

Everything clicked when you stiffly turned to your side, and found someone laying next to you.

The broad back facing your side had you clutching the sheets up to cover your torso that now felt chilly with the lack of layers. The man, whose name you did not think you know and what you had done with him last night you could not remember but was certainly able to guess, was still soundly in his sleep. Now that you were painstakingly unable to ignore his presence, you picked up on the soft snores that lingered in the air, making your legs that were rubbing against each other under what you could only assume to be his spreads tense up as the picture of what happened to get you right where you were slowly got clear. 

You would prefer not to think about it in detail, albeit the fact that it getting vivid in your mind sent a trail of heat from your core right onto your face and burning out the fuse in your head.

There was a slither of shame and guilt as you found yourself staring hazily at the man, his sculpted back spasming with each breath. Your hand gripping at the sheets in front of your chest only served to pull it further down his torso, revealing the dip at his waist and his arms that curled tighter against his body with a shiver. Blonde hair sprawled out messily on the pillow, and you felt chills creeping up your spine at the recoil of your fingers fisting those locks and brushing against the fuzzy patch of his undercut as he hovered above you.

Panting, grunting, moaning.

Your skin burnt up at the lingering feeling of a firm grip on your legs, the warm trail of his lips down your neck, and the unmistakable dullness between your thighs.

The heat settled into the pit of your stomach as a weight, twisting your guts until it resembled what felt like a bitter mix of shame and guilt.

Fuck, you slept with an absolute stranger last night.

You bite back a groan, slamming your hands against your face before letting them run down in a weak attempt to clear your head.

This was why you never go to clubs anymore.

The jolt of your body as you sat up straight pushed the sheets off of you and you winced at the soft whimper from the person next to you at the sudden movement. Your naked state was simply uncomfortable, not feeling like you were in your own skin at all as ironic as this was. You couldn’t help but hug your arms around your frame as you frantically looked around to see where your clothes and belongings were, letting out a relieved sigh when you saw the clothes you wore last night littering across the floor in all its messy glory. 

Your clothes were all wrinkled up from the careless placement, a clear display of the passion and impulse when they were being taken off. Your hands were the same kind of frantic as you rushed to put everything back on, not caring about tugging them in properly or the fact that you did not even look into a mirror at all to see if you were at least presentable. 

You did not hear the groan from the man that tossed over to his side on the bed as you slipped out of the bedroom, careful in softening your steps as you let the door clicked and darting your eyes around to see where the rest of your things were.

If you remembered correctly from the weak reconstruction of what happened last night, then your clutch should be somewhere near the door.

The giggle that slipped past your lips as he swung the door shut turned into a laugh when he latched onto you immediately. You could taste the hint of vodka lingering on his lips, bundling up your senses together with the warm breaths against your neck when he trailed down. It was like floating on a cloud, the way you latched yourself on this handsome man and he seemed to be unable to get enough of you. You barely heard the thump of what you were holding in your hand landing on the floor as your limbs went weak, swinging your arms around his broad shoulders when your mouth fell agape as he sucked down on the soft spot right on your neck.

It was right where you left it last night, the one and only clutch that you felt was suitable for you to bring to a club. There was a hint of hesitation as you rushed to pick it up, holding it in your hand when you thought of the person who you had left on the bed by himself.

What do people do after a one night stand? Talk? Have breakfast together? Or in your case, ask them for their name because you did not remember one thing that happened before you stepped into these doors?

Dear god, no.

So you did the only logical thing you could think of, and rushed out of the door without even looking back.

It wasn’t until you were far away from the apartment building you ran out of, the weight of your body shifting from leg to leg as you waited for the train to slowly drive into the station that something did not feel right to you. Your fingers fidgeted in reflex as you shoved yourself past the small gap between each person stuffed into the cart, a bad habit you had formed as a kid when you were nervous.

Your heart fell into the pit of your stomach when the lack of metal brushing against the tip of your finger finally clicked in your head.

You cussed under your breath, knowing exactly where the thin, gold band must be.

-

Miya Atsumu woke up with a pounding headache, in his own apartment that he forgot how he got back to, on his bed that somehow felt emptier than usual.

At first, all he could focus on was the clear hungover that he was suffering from. His tongue felt dry and he scrunched his face up at the bitterness as he tried to gulp. The half-drawn curtains were not doing it in shielding the sun that already came out, making him squeeze his eyes tight and blinked a few times before finally adjusting to the brightness. Stretching out on the bed, Atsumu whined at the soreness pulling at his muscles, feeling his joints pop as he arched his back and sprawled over to the other side of the bed.

He froze in place, arms still spread over his head and legs bundling up the sheets, before jolting up in one rapid movement only to wince at the horrible spinning in his head at the rush of blood up to his already heavy head.

Yet, dizziness and all that, Atsumu was sure that the feeling of someone being here with him last night definitely wasn’t just a drunkness induced illusion.

He groaned at the untimely pang of pain that pulsed at his temple, ruffling his hands through the locks of his hair that was tangled up from him tossing around the bed. The slight pull at his scalp at his impatient detangling method made him hiss, but it also served to get his wires just a little more sorted out than before. 

First things first, he was very naked and combining that with the certainty that he must have had someone over, it wasn’t very hard for him to connect the dots. He ran his palm over the ruffled sheets, smoothing out the wrinkles and searched if there was still any hint of warmth left on the fabric. He cursed under his breath when nothing else but coolness met his skin, scolding himself for acting like a fool over some one night stand that did not even wait until he woke up to leave.

There was a lump at the back of his throat as he stayed there, holding onto the hovering position he took on the bed without a single thought.

He snapped out of it when he realised that he was in his own space, just staying still and letting time passed without doing anything. Atsumu had a strong feeling that if he stayed in bed any longer then he would just be miserable for the rest of the day and he really couldn’t afford it if he couldn’t manage to get over himself soon enough. 

For all that it was, there was no bigger asset to his career than this very body that he felt like trash in right now, and god knows how much trouble he would get if people learnt that he let his performance slip because he couldn’t bounce back after a drunken hookup.

His steps were floaty as he climbed off his bed, stumbling into the bathroom and harshly gripping at the faucet. The water streamed out as a strong current and he splashed it against his face in a sadistic force. The coldness was stinging his skin, with no help from the way he rubbed his hands down his face and back up his chin.

He looked terrible, Atsumu thought to himself when he stared at the reflection in front of him. His eyelids were pulled taut with his hand, cheeks squished under his palm before he pulled away meanly. Bloodshot eyes made him wince and his face was so dropsy it looked like he had cried himself to sleep.

A loud slap echoed in the empty bathroom when he clasped his face a bit too hard in a desperate attempt to clear his head. He whined, rubbing the area that went numb and then heated up. There was a slight flush around the area he had slapped down, but he was feeling more in touch with reality afterwards.

Alright, so what happened last night?

It would be a lie if Miya Atsumu said he had never had one night stands. He would argue that he never go out with the intention for one, but sometimes one thing leads to another and it just happens. Some were good, some not really, some he hadn’t really think of until now when he was desperately thinking of what it was that led him to now. 

He hadn’t wakened up with a hungover this bad in a long while. Being in a profession that demands that much of your physiques meant that there was not much room for the more self-destructive type of letting loose. It was strange, Atsumu pinched the center of his brows as one hand on the kitchen counter held his body still, he didn’t quite remember the deeds of what was happened once the door to his room was closed last night.

Wow, he looked up with eyes widened and huffed at no one, that was such a douchebag thing to say.

He, however, remembered the person that stumbled through the door with him in shocking vividness to even his surprise.

He would have to pretend that the lack of follow up did not send a blow to his ego, reassuring himself that there was no way it was because he behaved terribly that the person had to run off before he even woke up. He was bitter about the fact that they had left without leaving even a note, something he had no idea he cared about at all until this very moment when the silence of his home became just short of irritating in his pounding head. 

Could have at least said ‘I had fun last night but I gotta go’.

Atsumu rubbed his temple, slowly rotating his arms backwards to get rid of that dull cramp.

Or maybe leave their number somewhere too.

He paused in his track, standing awkwardly in the middle of his tiny living room.

Did he want their number?

He shook his head violently to rid of the meaningless thought, an act he would immediately regret when he remembered that he was having a hungover as the dizziness made him stumble on his feet. 

A crisp clang after he took a fumbled step to steady himself quieted all of the voices in his head. That was not a sound that aligned with what his brain expected from his worn-out room slippers kicking against the wooden floor. Atsumu held his head as the rang of what sounded like something metallic registered itself in his mind, blinking at the empty space right in front of his feet.

His eyes darted around the floor, searching for whatever it was he must have stepped on to make that sound. Atsumu was ready to settle for the possibility that he was starting to hear things when a quick flash of light from the corner caught his attention. He walked towards where it was, and slowly crouched down.

It was a ring, a very tiny one. It looked rather ridiculous being held between his calloused fingers, the thin golden band arching off the afternoon light that had shined on it. A very simple design with no gems or carvings along the surface, something very much so the opposite to his taste. He knew it was not his, from the size to the tone to the lack of anything all over its rim.

And then he remembered the first time he saw the ring, on someone else’s finger, just last night.

-

Atsumu would not classify himself as a party animal, despite the common speculation shared by people who knew him but not well enough. He could deal with house parties just fine, but clubbing had never been much of his thing ever since he woke up outside the back of a night club once with the worst ring in his ear he had ever experienced. 

If it wasn’t part of his job, he would much rather be anywhere else than this overly opulent club that his team’s sponsor had booked up for their event. But business was business, and if he wanted to keep having his own room in away games then this was the price he had to pay.

Was it a nice club? He couldn’t say, but it sure was an expensive one if he was to make a guess based on the decor. So expensive that it was a bit tacky, if he dares to say. It was like the owner wanted to remind you that this was high-end and decadent. Imagine what you would see in a basic mansion on a real estate agent’s website, then dim it up and add many hi-fis, what you would result with was likely close if not identical to the space he was in. It was loud and hard to escape from, his ear pounding together with the baseline every time it blasted through He would never quite understand rich people, he thought to himself as he took a sip of his drink and scrunched his eyebrows together. He forced down the urge to poke his tongue out at the obvious taste of syrup, trying to pass it off with a cough into his fist as he plopped down on the barstool. 

“How’s your drink?”

The smooth voice reaching into his ear was mismatched to the booming club he was in. Atsumu turned his stool to the side with a push with the heel of his uncomfortable leather shoes and was met with an entertained gaze. You sat with both feet on the footrest of the stool, a posture that seemed rather childish for the night club bar you sat in front of. With your bare forearms lazily placed at the edge of the bar table, your finger tapped casually against the rim of your cocktail glass, the pink liquid inside looking like it was glowing under the neon lights. He could not map out your features too clearly but your head tilted as you looked at him through narrowed eyes, a glimmer behind your lashes from the many lights that hung above your head. 

Miya Atsumu was an adult now and in his adult mind, he knew that the proper answer he should give to a stranger asking about the sugary mixture he just poured down his throat was that it tasted decent, expensive even, like the club he was sitting in now.

“It’s kinda shit,” he felt a strange swell in his chest when you let out an unfiltered snort at his answer, leaning back with his arms folded in front of his chest as he licked his lips, “yours?”

You lifted up the glass and necked down the rest of the coloured water, smacking your lips as the sweetness spread in your mouth. “Like the type of stuff they mark up and sell to high schoolers who couldn’t buy real alcohol.”

The bartender at the side threw you two a sharp look and you two sat up straighter, before bursting into a fit of laughter. He supposed you had to be tipsy at the very least and probably so was he, what sober person giggled like a child over trash talking overpriced liquor at a bar? “Why are you here at this trashy place?” you asked, now resting your chin on your palm with your elbow propping you up.

You did not know him, Atsumu was almost delighted by the fact that you likely just struck a conversation with him because he was another bored person trying to escape to the sidelines of dancing bodies just like you with no other intentions. “Got an invite and couldn’t say no because of work reasons,” he wasn’t exactly lying, he just didn’t say that he was supposed to be one of the main guests of this function.

“Ooo...” you let out a soft whistle, tilting your upper body forward him, “are you a big shot?”

He smirked.

Yes. “Not entirely.”

“Hm...” you sat back, your smile pursed as you tapped your finger on the table, “not denying it, huh?”

The vibration of your hum sent shivers to his spine and he blamed it on the very spiked drink he just gulped down. Atsumu ran his hand through his hair, a move he discovered in his teenage years that could let him smoothly fixed his hair while also flexing his arm. “I try to stay humble,” he replied, earning him a playful eye roll from you.

The melting ice clinked in the glass when he held it up against his lips, still looking at you from the corner of his eyes as he tilted it and let the pungent liquid run down his throat. 

You nodded, returning to the laid back posture you kept before he sat down next to you at the dim corner of the bar table when you realised he wasn’t going to say more. “Fair enough,” you pretended to sound disappointed, holding your hand out in front of you to swiftly turn your attention away.

“You?”

“Got dragged here by a friend who works for the organiser,” you huffed, “don’t even know anyone here besides from them.”

Atsumu felt the warm buzz of the liquor spreading from his stomach to the rest of his body, settling onto his face as a tipsy fever. He did not look away from you and he was sure it was exactly what you wanted, mindlessly toying with your hand as you faced away from him. Your shoulders pulled back as you slid the thin ring off your index finger smoothly with your thumb, twisting it with the tips of your fingers before letting it fell down another one, all while pushing your hips back against the stool as you crossed your legs.

“Nice ring,” he tipped his chin slightly.

“Oh, this one,” you held your hand out to him, spreading your fingers apart to show him. You pulled back just slightly when he reached out, grinning teasingly at him when he quirked his brow up.

“my grandma gave it to me before she passed away,” you sighed, caressing the band that sat on your finger dreamily, “shoved it into my hand on her death bed and made me swore to never lose it, said it was given to her by her first love when she was a girl.”

“Oh,” Atsumu let out a soft gasp, “oh wow, I-”

He rolled his eyes when you broke out into laughter, the longing expression all gone from your face as you let out a hiccup through your giggling. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He clicked his tongue, letting out a huff, “Lying isn’t good.”

“Neither is talking to a stranger at a club but I’m still here,” you wet your lips as you flashed a childish smirk, showing him your hand again. He was certain that he was drunk now, because there was no other way he could excuse the pounding in his chest when you didn’t pull away this time as he reached out to hold your hand for a better look.

“I got this as a pack of 5 for 800 yen online,” you said proudly, “quite the deal, if you ask me.”

He hummed in approval, letting out a shaky breath when you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip, the tip of your finger ticking the center of his palm before you lifted it away. It sent electricity trickling down his spine, the feeling of your touch lingering on his skin even as you were steps away from him again, once again staring at him with a smile tugging on your face like you were waiting for his move.

Was it a challenge or was it an invite? Either way, he was ready to take on whatever you were offering.

“You still owe me some sort of compensation for toying with my poor heart like that,” he mused, mimicking the way you leaned towards him from before.

You sniggered, “And what do you want from a poor stranger like me?”

The music playing through the speakers stopped temporarily and for a moment, the projected light illuminated his figure briefly before moving to another spot. You had not taken a good look at him until now, knowing full well that the attractiveness of anyone under the pink, dim glow of the bar was not to be trusted.

But he was really, really good-looking, even when you could actually see his face properly. 

The next song started playing and the party people on the dance floor cheered. The loudness that returned made your head ache and you scrunched your nose in annoyance as the dj yelled into the mic. Atsumu threw his head back as the music returned, tapping his finger against his jaw.

“How about,” he said, knowing that you and he were likely to be on the same page, “you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink somewhere where the drinks aren’t shit?”

You chuckled at his unfiltered suggestion, your laughter slurring into a hum as you grabbed your clutch by the side of the bar. “I can make up to you,” you asked as you stood up, tilting your head to your side, “by letting you pay for me?” 

He nodded, smoothing out his shirt as he got up from his stool too. 

You shrugged, pressing your palm to your face to let the coldness of your hand calm down the heat on your face as you grinned.

“Take me somewhere nice then, big shot.”

Even through his tipsy haze, Atsumu was sure that this was the most irrational thing he had done in a while but as you took his arm while he pulled you through the crowd and out in the open after being stuck in the same space with many drunk and sweaty bodies afterwards, he was quite certain that he couldn’t care less whether this was stupid or not.

If he had any regrets about it, he would just blame it on the alcohol.

-

Now that he was staring at a fake gold ring you got as a pack of 5 for not even a thousand yen, Atsumu could only tear at his own hair in regret when he realised that he didn’t ask for your name or contact at any point during which you went from the first bar to one he actually liked, then to many other because there was no way he would get this drunk after just two drinks, and finally stumbled through the door of his own house, before you disappeared as if you had never been there at all.

It was all the alcohol’s fault, fuck alcohol.

It was not his first time taking a near-stranger home and even though he wouldn’t want to say it out loud to people, he also couldn’t guarantee that this was the last time either. He should just forget about it and move on with his day, maybe make some tea, maybe get some soup to cure this heaviness in his head so he wouldn’t make it too obvious that he hadn’t been taking care of himself the way he really should. After all, there was really nothing he could do about it since he didn’t know anything about you other than what you looked like and that you wore cheap jewelry. But it left a strange tightness in his chest when he toyed with the gold ring in his hand, knowing full well that drunk or not he did enjoy his time with you even before it really got to the fun fun part.

He really should have just asked for your name like a normal person instead of trying to look cool and mysterious the moment you talked to him at the bar.

Miya Atsumu let out a sigh no one was there to hear as he slowly accepted the fact that not only was he hungover, he was also hung up, and put the only evidence he had of you ever being there with him into the key tray by his door.

He would figure out what to do with it later but for now, he was starving. 

So Atsumu set off for the only one place he could think of that couldn’t kick him out no matter how annoying of a customer he was.

“Say, Samu...” 

Miya Osamu sighed, putting the plate he was drying at the side and let the damped towel fell from his hand onto the side of the sink. His twin had finished his food a long while ago yet he was refusing to leave, planting his face down at his counter like a pile of mush as he took up the precious space of Onigiri Miya’s bar seat. Osamu liked to think that he was a supportive brother , by all means. He fed Atsumu, listened to his childish whines and didn’t kick him out when he started getting so loud that the other patrons sent him a worried glance. Maybe he should have pretended that he was about to head out for errands when he saw his twin marching in, slumping down on the stool like he owned the place (Miya Atsumu claimed that he had unlimited access by relation, Miya Osamu denied it with his life and told all his employees to just kick his twin out if he said that bullshit to them).

He was so nice, Osamu thought to himself, he was far too nice.

“What is it?” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest when he heard Atsumu’s muffled voice.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone without knowing their name?”

Oh god, what was he up to again?

“Depends,” Osamu snorted, picking his towel again when he realised that it was nothing too serious that he should stop his work to listen to, “if it happens to someone else, then sure, maybe, everything is possible. But if you're telling me that you think you’re in love with someone you don’t know,” he paused, before breaking into a wide grin, “I think I might laugh.”

“Hey!” Atsumu yelled, his fist slamming on the counter as he snapped his head up. The bang caught the attention of several other customers at the shop and Osamu sent them an apologetic bow before glaring at Atsumu who was rubbing his aching hand for slapping it against the wooden surface. “I’m being serious,” he muttered.

“Alright then,” Osamu nodded absent-mindedly, "so what are you going to do about it?”

Atsumu’s raised hand froze in the air before he slowly, robotically put it down, down, down until it was back on the counter together with the rest of his upper body.

Osamu’s nodding got firmer now, letting out yet another snigger, “Thought so.”

Atsumu let out a groan, deflating onto the counter more and more with each whine. He looked sad and pathetic, even more so than he usually was and even Osamu who was born immune to whatever teary rent he put on was starting to get concerned.

“Was the sex really that good?”

“it is not about the sex,” Atsumu mumbled, leaning his chin on top of his folded arms as he sighed, “I just... think we had a connection.”

Osamu laughed, the ugly kind, and earned himself a sharp glare. “A connection, huh?” he giggled, “you’re down bad.”

“It’s not funny...”

Hiccuping as he tried to calm himself down, Osamu placed a hand onto the kitchen counter to steady himself as his body vibrated. 

“I still think you’re overreacting,” Osamu took in a deep breath, catching up after finally regaining his posture, “besides, you’re technically a public figure, right? If you can’t find them, why don’t you just try and get them to find you instead?”

Atsumu’s hiss about how he wasn’t overreacting stuck at the back of his throat when paused and thought of what Osamu had suggested.

“Huh,” he sat up a little straighter, eyes rolling inside of their sockets as he pondered, “that’s actually not a bad idea.”

"Of course it’s not,” Osamu huffed, “I’m the smart twin.”

“What did you just-”

Osamu ignored Atsumu’s glare, turning around to resume his work now that he seemed to have fulfilled his responsibility as a brilliant, amazing brother. He gave it a month, no, two weeks max before his brother forgot all about this person and moved on as if Atsumu had never shown up in front of his door with puffy eyes and a love-sick expression. 

Oh, he just couldn’t wait to hear all the excuses and denial when he brought it up again the next time they get into a petty argument.

-

It was a terrible idea.

The Inarizaki volleyball alumni group chat exploded when the first post of what would be many to come was published for the world to see. Suna Rintarou, always so quick with capturing his old teammates embarrassing moments, kicked Atsumu out before he sent out links, screenshots, and pinged every single member of the group who did not read his message immediately. Miya Osamu refused to speak up about it, keep denying that he knew anything about it.

“I do not know this person,” his fingers hurt from how fast he was typing, not even bothering to correct the typos in his message before hitting send to clear his name, “I have no idea what has gotten into him but I’m not responsible for it.”

He was, in fact, telling the truth. Osamu was just as shocked and wide-eyed as everyone else was when he came across his twin’s post on Instagram as he scrolled through his feed mindlessly after work. Let us just say that all his sleepiness was gone when he saw his twin’s pretentious selfie of him standing in front of a window (shirtless), his hand holding onto the frame as he looked out into the grey sky. The posture was optimal for him to flex his back, letting the light seeping out around his frame do the trick of accentuating his muscles. Atsumu’s face was not entirely in the frame but Osamu did not need to see to know that he had his eyebrows furrowed, his gaze lowered into a look that was supposed to convey the message of “wow look at me, I’m so sad, and I’m also hot”.

Miya Osamu felt a metallic ting in his mouth when he imagined Atsumu’s face, so heart-wrenchingly similar to his own, making that look.

He got spammed by the group chat as soon as he clicked out of the app in horror, refusing to look at that monstrosity any longer. Ginjima was losing his mind, Akagi sent out strings of just him keyboard smashing, Oomimi replied with a very concerned sticker and proceed to not show up again, Kita who was not actually on Instagram at all said it wasn’t very nice of them to make fun of their friend like that but also didn’t quit the group chat himself. Ojiro was the last one to reply, seeming to be rather irritated after Suna kept tagging him and tagging him until he finally went online. Unlike the others who were still comprehending what had possibly got into their friend, he sent out a screenshot but this time with the caption of the post highlighted.

“Is he ok? Did he got dumped or something?”

Osamu did not look at the caption before it was brought to his attention, already feeling the impact sufficiently enough from the visual itself. He felt chills running through his arms and spreading to his entire body when he glanced at the string of words, his face scrunching up in disgust at how any sane person could type it out with their own hands.

“My world had not seen light since the day you left it without saying goodbye.”

He silently switched his status to “do not disturb” when the group chat exploded once again, knowing exactly what this was and that he was fully responsible for the pain he was experiencing right now.

Osamu tried to convince Atsumu that if anyone saw these, the only thing it would persuade them to do was run away instead of reaching out to him but it was to no avail. He was convinced that this was romantic and if he kept it up, it would create enough buzz that would possibly lead the stranger he was hoping to stumble across one of these painfully awful posts and recognise him. The posts kept coming and every day, Osamu felt more and more of an impulse to just block him for good so he wouldn’t have to open his feed each day with the fear of seeing things he did not want to see. 

One day, on a beautiful weekend morning, when he finally had time to sit down and have a nice breakfast without rushing, Osamu opened his feed to see a glorious picture of his twin chest down (shirtless) on the bed, with the camera panning up to close up on his face from below. The blanket covered Atsumu’s torso loosely, showing just enough of his waist but not too much that he would get flagged. He had the lower half of his face behind his forearm, staring into the camera with such a sultry stare it made Osamu’s skin crawl.

“If I can start over, I’ll give up all I have just for another night with you.”

Osamu nearly didn’t manage to hold himself back from spitting out the water in his mouth.

The word slowly spread among the community. Suna, ever the enthusiastic teammate he was, shared his recently discovered source of joy with fellow EJP Raijin member Komori Motoya, who in turn spammed the latter’s cousin who had no choice but to acknowledge his teammate’s questionable online presence. Sakusa didn’t think he could ever have such a reaction to something that was not physically there to bother him and proceed to show it to the nearest person he could grab in the locker room, but not without reporting the post for containing unsettling images. 

If he had to suffer, then he must make sure that there was someone else suffering with him too. Sakusa had no intention of being the only person who had to see Miya’s pretentious bathroom selfie where he stared into the camera all while running his fingers through dampened hair along with a caption Sakusa did not even want to read in his head. The “someone”, captain Meian Shugo who was really not paid enough for this, sighed as he wondered if this was worth reporting to management as a potential pr crisis. Tomas, somewhat curious by the look on his captain’s face, asked if this was the current social media trend in Japan to which all the players present fought to clear that misconception from his head in order to defend their nation’s honour. 

Bokuto looked it up after hearing about the whispers and chats between breaks. “Why, this isn’t that bad!” he said cheerfully, “There are people complimenting him in the comments too! Look!” 

The rest of the team spent a good chunk of time convincing him that he should think more cautiously about it when he suggested that perhaps he should try to take on this dynamic posing style for his social media accounts too.

It sure did stir up quite the storm among his fellow athletes and the many fans that were wondering what exactly, or who exactly, it was that caused this sudden shift in his behaviour online. The few people who knew the reason for Atsumu’s melancholy, namely Osamu and some others who could not escape from a venting Atsumu, were almost certain that you would have to at least see his face somehow. If he was still hearing nothing, then it was probably about time he gives up and accepts that you just didn’t want anything to do with him.

One thing that these men who put their entire lives into volleyball failed to take into account, however, was that not every person in the world was particularly interested in the sport that lived and breathed. For people who only heard about the sport if the Olympics were coming up, whatever the players were up to in their private lives was probably not something they would care too much about.

Sadly, for Miya Atsumu, the exact person he was looking for was one of those people.

“The fans are starting to go crazy, no one has any idea what is going on with him,” you pulled your phone slightly further away from your poor ears as your friend let out an exasperated yell from the other end of the call. 

They lost you when they started talking about this athlete they had a celeb crush on and how they had been acting very strange in their posts lately, realising that this would become one of their ramblings about people with names you barely remember. They bombed your phone in the middle of the day when they found out that their company would be sponsoring a sports team they were obsessed with and did not stop until you threatened to block them until they had calmed down. You still hadn’t forgiven them completely for disappearing out of nowhere after begging you to attend a company function with them all with the reasoning that if they came across one of the players that would also be invited, you could be there to stop them from embarrassing themselves. That was not entirely useful, given that they were whisked away by their colleagues not even an hour into the event and leaving you all on your own.

If it wasn’t for them, then none of the events following that night would have ever happened.

But the past was past and as they called you again to talk about how they were heartbroken because their fav might be seeing someone, you did not stop them, obviously, since you were a great friend.

A sigh called your attention back and you silently closed your dash of animal videos to focus on what they were saying. “Are you even listening?”

“Uhm...” you hummed, “emo thirst traps, you were saying?”

“We tried to dig down all the accounts he was following but no one was posting anything that might match up to his posts,” they let out a whine.

“So,” you said, “are you still going to see him this weekend even if you are heartbroken or?”

They gasped before you suggested that if they didn’t want to go anymore, then you would do something else rather than sitting through a game you were not interested in. “Of course we’re still going!” they emphasised on the ‘we’, “who knows when I’ll get front row tickets again once the sponsorship ends and they aren’t giving the company tickets anymore!”

They paused. “You’re still going with me,” it sounded more like a threat and a statement than a question, and they asked again when you didn’t reply, “you’re going with me, aren’t you?”

You sighed. They were usually pretty laid back, except when it has something to do with volleyball. What was it with volleyball? It was like... football but with hands, tennis without a rack, basketball but with no basket. Ball sports, they were all the same in your eyes. But despite your lack of interest, the truth was that you wouldn’t have anything else to do if you didn’t go with them anyways and you did promise you would go as long as you didn’t have to pay a single dollar.

So you sighed again, earning you a displeased click of the tongue from the other end of the call.

-

Your lack of interest maintained when the day came. You didn’t think you had ever been to a stadium when there was a game going on before and the arena was already filling up with people waiting to get it by the time you were there. You were delightedly surprised when you learnt that there would be vendors selling food, silently deciding that the very nice yakionigiri you got from one of the stalls might just be the highlight of your day. 

The staff at the store looked vaguely familiar, but you had no idea where you would have possibly seen him before.

When the lights of the venue switched off out of nowhere and the crowd cheered, perhaps you could finally start to understand why your friend was such a fanatic for sports. There was something exciting and grand about the bright spotlights and the announcer’s voice pounding through your ears from the speakers. You peeked at your side to see your friend’s eyes glimmering in a way you had never seen before and chuckled to yourself, leaning back with your legs crossed to watch the game in a better position as the players’ names were called one by one.

You froze in place when you saw a very familiar face on every screen around the stadium. 

“Number 13, Miya Atsumu!”

What happened to not being a big shot?

Screams filled up the stadium, especially ear grating when the loudest person seemed to be the one right next to you but your mind was an utter state of blank. You were not expecting to see him again, ever again but here you were, with the next several hours of your life stuck watching the man you ditched after a drunken one night stand in the very front row. He looked more put together than your last image of him, the tussled hair replaced by a careful side swoop and the fitted jersey giving him a fresher look compared to the suit he met you in. He seemed to enjoy the attention, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he marched out and waved languidly around the stadium. 

You thanked the genius who separated the court and the seats into two floors, hiding you away with the distance even though you were sitting at the very front.

“Oh my god, he’s looking at this direction, he’s looking at this direction!” your friend’s vigorous tug at your sleeve brought your void gaze back to the court.

You were convinced that there was no way he could spot you from that far away. Hell, it was still up to question whether he could see any of the audience with all the lights shining onto his face. But for a moment, just a brief moment, you had a gut feeling that your eyes met in that split second when you looked down and his gaze stopped at right where you were.

“What are you looking at?” Hinata asked, turning his head to the direction Atsumu kept stealing glances at as they lined up in front of the net but saw nothing.

Atsumu shook his head, giving a laugh to pass off the moment when he lost his composure when he thought he saw the face he kept thinking of since that night in the crowd. It has got to be an illusion, he must have been blinded by the lights. Stupid lights, he cursed under his breath before turning to his teammate. “It was nothing,” he smiled, his gaze shifting to the corner he thought he saw you at before quickly snapping back to the court, “just... thought I saw someone I know.”

He did not look at you again throughout the game much to your relief. But this time, you found it hard to stop your eyes from following him around. You would like to argue that it was because you didn’t know any of the other players and the way your friend kept gushing whenever he did something made it hard for you to ignore him but the way he seemed to flourish on court. Something inside of you jumped whenever he scored a point and the live cameras panned up at his face again, showing the satisfied grin and slanted eyes plastered on him. He did what he does so well and with so much confidence and for some reason, that explained to you just why you decided to leave with him that night at the club in the strangest way possible. 

He was, still, very good-looking even under the lights and under your sober judgement, perhaps even more so than your blurry memory of how he looked like with a flushed face. But the true hit to your chest was when the entire stadium was watching him as he got to the serving position, taking strides forward before raising his hand to the air.

The world stopped when the entire ground fell to silence at his command, and you took a deep, shaky inhale when you thought of how this person had kissed you again and again on a drunken night until you were both out of breath.

-

Atsumu was almost 99.9% sure he truly did see you when the match ended.

That last 0.1% was deducted because it was a really good match ending with a win for the Black Jackals and as hot-headed as he could be, he knew better than to believe everything that his adrenaline-filled brain was trying to tell him. But with the spotlights of the stadium dimmed and his full attention no longer required on the court, Atsumu looked straight at where he was sure you had sat the moment the stadium doors opened and people started leaving. It was a blurry glance, just a quick in and out of his vision but he was sure he saw you slipping out of the front row before disappearing into the stairs. 

He knew he could still be wrong, but the sudden realisation that he might be the closest to you now than he would ever be again left him frozen in the middle of the court as he stared blankly at the exit. Reporters were starting to gather around the players and his presence was expected, but his legs started moving before the call of his name by the rest of his team could land on his ear. 

Pushing through the crowd, the gasps and shocked chatters of the guests who saw the player they just watched dashing out the stadium were none of his concern. All he cared about was to run faster, faster, past the hall and past the people of the stalls that were packing up. He might have just mistaken someone else for you and if it really was you, you might have already left before he could get to the front entrance of the stadium but that did not matter. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you had been there and if he ran fast enough, there was still a chance that his search all along would not be in vain.

Miya Atsumu was not exactly a believer of fate or a divine destiny but as he stumbled with tired legs down the steps of the grand glass door, he silently made a bet with the beings he wasn’t sure were truly there that if he missed you this time, he would take the defeat that your paths were not meant to cross again and give up.

And the beings, who Atsumu believed was actually there for the first time ever, answered his calls.

“Wait!”

Your feet planted into the concrete when you heard a yell behind you. Your jaw dropped when you hesitantly turned around to see him, whose name you now know thanks to the match, stopping just a few steps away from you with his hands on his knees, seemingly out of breath with his arm reached out. His eyes widened when he looked up and saw that you had stopped there, and you were exactly who he thought you might be. He was heaving, sweat drenching his face but he still took a few stumbled steps towards you until he was right in front of you. 

A few words fell out of his mouth but were cut short by his panting. Your head was still not reacting when he finally managed to stand back up, looking right at you even as his breathing stayed erratic.

What does one say to a one night stand that they ditched right when the morning comes?

“So,” you blurted, trying to ignore the heat on your face and the anxiousness in your chest, “not a big shot, huh?”

He let out a snort, his voice cracking as he ran his hand down his face to wipe away the sweat that was starting to get into his eyes. He could finally take the time to look at you now, after confirming that you would not disappear if he did so little as blink.

You were gorgeous, and suddenly all the things he had wanted to say to you sounded ridiculously stupid.

I tried to look for you.

“You left your ring at my place,” he said, his voice still shaking from the sprint he took, growing softer and softer with each word that came out.

“Oh,” you replied, nodding stiffly to try and brush away your nerves.

“Yeah,” he nodded too, and opened his mouth again after taking a gulp to swallow down the knot at the back of his throat, “we should arrange a time to meet so you can take it back from me.”

“Oh,” you stood just a little straighter, “but-” 

But it was just one of the five I got in a pack so it really, really didn’t matter that much.

“You said,” he looked down, holding back a smile as he thought of what you had said to him, “you said your grandma made you swore to never lose it.”

He remembered.

“Yes,” you pressed your lips together to stop the chuckle from coming out, “yes I was.”

“So you should come and get it back from me,” he suggested, the last note of his sentence going up as if he wasn’t sure of himself either.

“Yeah,” he beamed when you smiled sheepishly, “I should.”

“Ok good, good,” he murmured in joyful disbelief, grinning ear to ear. The grin faded suddenly when he thought of one very important thing he had forgotten to do last time and must not forget this time.

“Can I have your name?”

You burst out into laughter. “You can have my number too, if that’s what you want,” you mused, “Miya.”

 A rush of heat washed through his face at the sound of his name out of your mouth. He would die if you call him by his first name later on, he was sure of it.

“Yes,” he said almost embarrassingly fast, “yes I would love that. I-” he groaned when he realised that he still had his phone in his jacket that was left in the locker room.

“Wait for me here,” he had already started walking backwards, snapping towards you with his hand out as he added in panic, “don’t go anywhere!”

You still hadn’t stopped laughing when he sprinted back into the stadium again like his life depended on it.

-

Bonus

Miya Atsumu deleted all of the posts he made during his search for you the moment he added your contacts into his phone, but what he did not count was that there were other people who would preserve those precious memories for him.

It was a few weeks after he caught up to you in front of the stadium and several days after your relationship went public. Your friend had nearly torn your eardrums apart when they learnt that you were the mysterious person they had been hunting after but overall, dating Atsumu had been great, even to the point where you thought it was so stupid of you to run away from him in the first place.

You got a notification that someone direct messaged you on instagram as you were getting ready for a date night.

It was not someone you know but there was a verification mark next to his username. Clicking into his profile, you assumed that it must be one of Atsumu’s friends in the volleyball circle when you saw the line saying “EJP Raijin middle blocker”.

“Hi, I’m Suna, I was on the same high school team as your boyfriend was. I don’t think we have met but I’m sure we will be very good friends.”

Before you could manage to type out a reply, he sent you multiple pictures and you paused as they loaded, wondering what Atsumu’s old high school teammate might send you.

You blinked when the pictures finally finished loading, and silently dialed your boyfriend’s number.

“Do you have something you forgot to tell me about what you have done in order to try and find me online?”

[dreamescapeswriting]

I Hate To Admit ~ Bang Chan [Request]

WORD COUNT:1.6K

PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader

GENRE: Angst, fluffy

A/N: I made it a fluffy ending I cant help it.

The longer that Chan sat there listening to the rain outside the window the more he began to grow uneasy about everything he had done that day. It was his turn to release an Skz-Record and he'd written something from the heart, something he'd been holding back on for so long that he needed to get out. Now it had been out in the world for almost eight hours and he was already wondering about you, had you seen it yet? What did you think about it? Did you even know that it was about you? Would you even care that he had done something like that?

The clock on his desk began blinking as it reached midnight and he knew he was going to have to head back to the dorms sooner or later but he didn't want to. As much as he loved being around the boys he needed some time alone, time to think about everything he had lost and he didn't want to go back yet. The boys all knew who the song was going to be about which meant they were going to have a million and one questions about you, why you had left in the first place, why he'd written such a sad song and why Chan would never tell the boys what had truly happened to you. Going back to them met admitting that he missed you and he did, he missed you every minute of every day but he could never say that out loud to anyone but himself. There were times where your voice still echoed in the back of his mind and being at the studio was one of the moments he still felt as though he was close to you. Imagining you sat on the chairs behind him waiting for him to finish one of the pieces he was working on. He still pictured you waiting up for him at the dorms, sitting in one of his shirts playing video games or passed out on the sofa so tired from waiting for him but you would always be there.

"Chan? You ready?" He snapped out of his daydream as he glanced over at the door, his manager had been watching him for a few minutes debating about interrupting the young man's thoughts.

"No, I'm...I'm going to work on this a little more," He lied as he turned back to the blank laptop screen, he was already so tired it wouldn't matter if he stayed in the studio that night he just didn't want to go home yet. Not to an empty bed where he couldn't sleep, he couldn't sleep without you by his side which is why he had begged you to stay with him but you didn't.

"You told me you would never leave! You promised!" He yelled out as you stood across from him in the dorms, throwing your clothes into a bag as you tried to leave as quickly as possible. Tears welling up in your eyes as you tried not to look at him, looking at him you would see how much this was hurting him but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you couldn't give it up. It was your life's work and someone was finally taking you seriously, your dream was to be a writer and now that was finally able to come true he wasn't willing to let you go?

"I'll be back Channie, I need this." You breathed as you placed your bag over your shoulder, heading towards the exit when he took hold of your hand. The familiar spark you always felt jolted through your body only making you cry harder at the thought of leaving him. The two of you had spoken about it before, you'd managed a long-distance relationship when he was away on tour, it would be no different. You would be back sooner than he could think about it but he was set on never letting you leave.

"I'll be back...I need this, you know how much this means to me." You tried to let him know gently that this was your dream but he was blind to everything, all he could think about was the promises you had made that you were now breaking.

"You lied to me. You promised that you would never leave and now you're leaving." His voice cracked and you turned to look at him, tears rushing down your face as you reached your hand up to touch him. You hadn't seen Chan this upset since the survival show and it broke you to see him with his eyes so red and tears staining his cheeks.

"You said you would support my dreams." You reminded him but he stepped back from you, shaking his head as he let you walk out of the door, leaving everything behind without trying to fix it.

Chan never should have let you leave the way you did, it was one of the biggest mistakes in his life. He should have made up with you before you got on the plane and left the country to be far away from him, he didn't have to be as selfish as he was but he couldn't see a world without you in it and to this day he still couldn't. How could he ever forget the way you were, how could he not remember all of the little things you did that made him smile and even things that would annoy him but that he still loved about you? He always regretted never responding to the texts and calls you left him when you landed for your new job, he ignored you, ghosting you and telling the boys to do the same.

"Fuck," He mumbled as he looked down at the photo of you he had on his desk, he'd never moved it from the moment that he put it there. It was a photo of you and him together after the boy's first award win, you were holding onto him tightly as tears rushed down both of your faces. You had the photo framed so that you could prove to Chan every day how much you supported his dream and how much of an amazing achievement he had won in the past to keep him motivated but now? Now it felt like a person torture device sitting on his desk, painfully reminding him that although you had supported him he hadn't done the same for you.

Staggering into the dorms that night he stripped out of the drenching wet coat he was wearing and hung it up on the coat rack to dry for the next day. He scratched the back of his neck as he walked through the hallway and into the living room, glancing over at the sofa as he saw you sitting there. 

"I'm too tired," He mumbled as he began rubbing his eyes thinking that the image of you sitting there, in his shirt was just all in his head but as he glanced back over you were staring at him. Two cups of hot chocolate on the coffee table as you waited for him to come and sit down. 

"You wouldn't be so tired if you got some decent sleep," You quipped as you moved over on the sofa, Chan's mind raced as he stared at you. He must have fallen asleep in the studio it was the only explanation for you to be sitting there so calmly as if nothing had happened. 

"Channie, please...We need to talk." You whispered as you waited for him to go and sit beside you, he hesitantly walked over and took the drink from the table, sitting down expecting everything to fade away as he woke up. 

"The song." You whispered again placing your hand over his and that was when he knew it was real, that you were truly sitting across from him and touching him. That you were back. 

"The song," He repeated, placing his hand on top of yours as he waited for you to say something else but no words could express what you were feeling. You had been on the plane flying home to see him when the song dropped, making you rethink everything in your relationship if there was even one to go back to. 

"How did you know I was coming back?" He questioned as he looked at you and then to the time, it was almost 2 in the morning and he never would have expected to find you here. 

"I came as soon as I landed...Felix let me in and I slept in your bed for a while...Then I figured you'd probably come home at some ungodly hour like you used to," You laughed softly remembering all the times he would come home late like this, it never once bothered you because you knew how much he adored his word and you would always make sure he slept when he came in.

"But...Why are you back? I thought the job was what you wanted," It had been everything you wanted but it was awful, you were completely miserable the whole time because it wasn't as fun as they had made it out to be, promising you all these amazing opportunities only to make you an errand-runner. Not having Chan in your life made it all the worse, with Chan by your side you felt like anything was possible.

"I didn't want the job if it meant I never got to see you again...Plus...They kind of sucked, I became an errand-runner." You mumbled as you laid your head on his shoulder and just like that it was as if nothing had changed. The four months you spent apart never happened and Chan was just glad to have you back in his life and in his arms where he was never going to let you go without telling you how much he supported you. 

"We'll find you something good, something better...I will support you...I promise." He whispered as he laid a small kiss on your forehead, you hummed tiredly as you relaxed against him just happy to be back in his arms once again.

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