#tip 4: try not to lose your goddamn mind

[raven-master]

the one thing I'll never understand is when schools make you do an assignment or project about poverty and expect you to come up with easy practical ideas for working with people in debt instead of radicalizing completely and writing a socialist manifesto

[bonesxbows]

Once Upon A Dream - Chapter 11 (Lucifer X Reader) (Alastor X Reader)

My Masterlist

In a sleeping beauty-inspired AU, a curse is placed over you when you strike up a deal with Heaven to protect baby Charlie, causing you to lose your memory. You remember nothing once the curse takes over; not your marriage with Lucifer, not the family you had with the two of them, nothing. So when a strange smiling demon offers you a place to stay when you can't remember where 'home' is, you take him up on his offer. 

(WARNINGS)

Gendered terms used (mom, good girl, wife) but otherwise gender neutral pronouns used

Heavy depressing themes

Loss of a parent (temporary)

(CHAPTER WARNINGS)

Relationship fighting

Descriptions of anxiety/panic

Blood/major injury

I'm so sorry for the delay of update, I've come down with a freaking head cold :( so chapter 12 might be a little delayed as well as I don't have much energy rn. But enjoy the cliffhanger for now!! (not sorry about that lmao)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11 (You are here), Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17

Banners by @strangergraphics

“I…um…” You stumbled over your words, not sure how to respond without incriminating either yourself or Alastor. Who would he accuse less of the two? “It’s not what it looks like.” You managed to sputter out as his gaze became even more narrowed. Fire burned behind his snake-like eyes. Whom it was aimed at you weren’t entirely sure; though you had an inkling it most likely wasn’t you. 

He scoffed. A harsh sound that grated against your ears. One you found that you hated falling from his lips as an instinctive frown crossed your face. “Really? Because it looks like he was trying to kill you. Or eat you. Or both, knowing him.” The anger fell from his face for a brief moment as he ghosted the tip of his finger over one of the deepest and reddest-looking bite marks Alastor had left earlier, a flash of pseudo-pain making his scowl scrunch up into sadness. 

“What?!” You practically shouted, almost tearing yourself from Lucifer’s grasp at his accusations. But his hold was firm; refusing to let you go now that he believed you were being hurt by another. “That’s not-” 

“You really trust him? After he treats you like this? Despite everything we had, everything we did together? You were a Queen, y/n, and I always treated you like one. And now you let this sinner throw you around like…like some toy?” His words were coming out harsher than he had intended, his anger boiling over into his bottled-up agony. 

Something inside you snapped at his words. You shoved yourself away from him. Forcefully. It hurt your heart to see him go tumbling backwards and almost lose his balance, an instinct inside of you wanted to reach out and help him, but you resisted it and withheld yourself. “Stop talking about him like that.” You told him coldly, sticking your nose up in the air with a confident sniff. “Don’t bring up my memory like you knew me. You’re the goddamn King of Hell. I couldn’t have been that fucking important to you.” You were confused, too many thoughts and feelings rushing through your head at once, but most of all you were angry. Alastor had been there to care for you from the beginning of your affliction, albeit in his own strange way, whereas Lucifer had shown you nothing but coldness from the day you had met him at this hotel, only until recently had he even started to talk to you for more than a minute. How dare he think he had the right to swoop in on his seraphim wings and “save” you from a demon that you hadn’t asked to be saved from. 

You flashed your eyes aggressively at him. “I don’t know who y/n is. My name is Ducki. You know that.” 

A saddened look settled in his eyes, his body frozen with shock as his mind scrambled to process your aggression. But his anger soon flared to match your own. He huffed out an agitated growl. “But that’s not your fucking name! Your name is y/n!” He thrust out a hand to grab yours; to which you pulled back aggressively, twisting out of his reach with an abhorrent look, but he was quicker than you, and honestly becoming tired of this whole game. His fingers locked in between yours, not leaving you an inch of room to pull away from him as he forced your hand to go where it was meant to be. 

A permanent frown was set on his lips as you refused to step closer to him. But he didn’t let your body language stop him from continuing on. He could deal with you being angry with him, forever, if he had to, he could learn to accept that, but he was done pretending like your past no longer existed. Not when he was hurting you. 

He held your hand firmly in his grasp as he fished around in his breast pocket with his other hand. You had hoped his distracted state would’ve aided you in your attempt to pull away from him, but his hold was unyielding. His clawed fingers held on to you with a strong grip; though never tight enough to hurt you like he had. 

As soon as his fingertips touched what they had been searching for, the smooth edges of once glossy paper now worn thin from one too many touches, he immediately showed it to you. The artifact in his hands, the thing looked to be downright *ancient*, chilled your body right down to your bones and halted your incessant squirming. 

An image that had brought him so much heart-aching comfort, his only symbolic light left, was now staring you down in the face, and sending you into a world-shattering shock. 

You felt yourself stop breathing. Your heartbeat urging you to expand your lungs. But your body refused to cooperate as that picture stared back at you. 

A small, barely bigger than Lucifer’s palm, black and white photograph of two people holding on to each other very clearly in love while mid-kiss. The thing was visibly old; weathered from time and handling, smudged with stains and sections of it faded to shades of an odd grey. But the two people were still crisply printed and recognizable. Lucifer on the right, though he looked younger, happier, but it was still undoubtedly him; his hair slicked back and neat, topped with a gleaming kingy crown, and an extravagant regal suit adorning his body as he passionately clutched at the person standing next to him. 

A person who looked strikingly, undeniably, irrefutably like you. 

Kissing Lucifer. Captured forever in a photo. 

“You used to be my Ducky.” You heard him say to you, though you weren’t sure if you ever saw his mouth move; your eyes refused to move off of the picture in front of you. Fuzziness overtook your mind as a certain detail caught your attention within the black and white colors. Front and center of the photo, sitting nestled in between the two of you, brought to life by the flash of the camera, gleamed a set of matching wedding rings securely attached to two clasped hands. 

Your eyes left the photo only for a moment then, to verify that yes, the ring in the picture undoubtedly matched the one that still adorned Lucifer’s hand that clutched onto the cherished photographed memory, a small band of polished gold carved into the shape of two wings snugly set onto his finger. 

Once your eyes flickered back to the stilled image of the two of you holding hands did you notice the other ring, the one that complimented his, the one that sat on your finger. The band of gold shaped into two angel wings, same as his, except yours included the addition of an apple-shaped ruby set into its center. 

The very same piece of jewelry that you had found attached to your finger from the moment you had woken up in that strange bed with no memories. The very same ring that still sat slotted onto your ring finger even now. No matter how many times Alastor had tried to persuade you to take it off. 

The very same ring you had refused to take off, no matter what, even if you couldn’t remember where it had come from, for even the mere thought of removing it caused an aching pain to shoot through your heart. As if you were disgracing a vow you had promised on a long, long time ago. 

Hope shined in his eyes as you began to blink rapidly, processing the puzzle pieces in your mind. You looked down at the wedding ring on your finger. Its blood-red ruby gleamed from the maroon-tinted sunlight pouring in from the nearby window as you fiddled with it within your fingertips. One by one memories seemed to flood back into your mind, the ceaseless fog finally vanishing, revealing the face of the devil standing before you behind it. 

Your fingers twitched to reach out towards him. To touch him. To hold him. An urge you hadn’t felt in months but one that felt like a necessary need now. 

His eyes were locked onto yours as you looked up from your ring to him, even as he tried to blindly put away the photo of the two of you safely back into his pocket. “Luci?” You called out softly, his name barely a whisper as the air stole in from your lips. But he heard it nonetheless. The nickname felt different on your tongue now; now that you remembered. 

A comforting shiver ran down the back of his spine as he absorbed the single word. His name. You remembered the implications of that single word. It held a wholly different feeling in his ears now. He was careful in his movements as he held out his hands towards you. Slow. Steady. Recognizing your fragile state and not wanting to do anything to startle you further. 

His smile was warm. Inviting. Homily familiar. Like a thousand years of pure unadulterated love visibly on display behind those sharp teeth. You crashed into his body before you could stop yourself, your arms constricted around his body in a soul-crushing hug. He let out an audible “oof” from the force, his mind taking a second or two to comprehend that your final decision had been to embrace him. But it wasn’t long before his arms were wrapped around you, holding you to him, right where you belonged, safe in his arms. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing you in. A grin became stuck on his face as he realized your smell hadn’t changed a bit, despite how much time you spent around him. It was something he hadn’t ever forgotten, the warmth of your arms, the comfort of your touch, how he finally felt like he actually belonged when he was with you. He discovered that he never wanted to be apart from that feeling ever again. 

“I’m so sorry.” He heard you whisper into his ear. Barely audible, but his angelic hearing had always been better than most. He immediately pulled you away from his body just enough so he could see your face. Immense sorrow blossomed behind your eyes like untamed weeds. 

He couldn’t help but frown as he grasped your shoulders. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, sweetheart.” 

You heard his words but they barely made it to your mind. “This is all my fault. I started this whole thing. I trusted Alastor. I fled our house. I-” 

Your eyes went wide as a sound cut you off. A soft, but crisp and clear chime. The toll of a bell. It rang once. Only once. And then silence. Perhaps you were hearing things? 

Lucifer called out your name. And that was when you heard it again. Louder this time. A continuous ringing in your ears that seemed to grow more distinct by the second. The intensifying fear on your face was sending Lucifer into a panic. 

“It’s…it’s happening again. Luci!” You clutched onto him, agonizing fright circling in your eyes. “I hear them! The bells!” You cried out in anxious terror. 

“What?!” He was panicked. Angry. Confused. Not sure which emotion he felt more of at that moment. But most of all he was worried. About you. For a brief instant he had gotten you back, all of you, the real you. And now they were threatening to take all of that away from him again. 

“It won’t stop, Hell, it won’t stop! Luci, I’m scared.” The look on your face broke what intact pieces remained of his already fragile heart. 

It was then that he decided. Even if it killed him. Even if they decided to make the trip down here to smite him themselves for his actions. 

He would not stand idly by again. 

He was done letting other people control his life. 

“Ducky, look at me.” He phrased it like a question, though it was meant as more of a demand. You had brought your hands up to your ears, futilely trying to block out the sound of the angelic tolling of the bells in your head, but his powerful voice managed to cut through the ringing. You did as you were told, your eyes focusing on his now red-filled sclera and yellow snake pupils. He wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. A soft smile grew on his face as you melted into his touch despite your turmoil, never once flinching or pulling away from him. “Do you trust me?” He asked. 

You nodded your head quickly without a second thought. Of course you did. You’d trust Lucifer with your life.

And currently you might not have any other choice but to do so. 

The ringing was becoming ear-piercing, on the verge of unbearable as it shrieked in your head. You swore you could feel warm blood trickling down between the fingers pressed against your ears. It seemed the more you resisted the sound the louder it became, your screams of tormented pain practically trying to drown out the chiming of the bells. 

He acted fast, before any more damage could be done; his wings unfurling from behind him in a display of bright golden light that filled the hallway as the six feathered appendages curled around you. A protective shield of equal parts angelic and demonic force. A desperate attempt to protect you from Heaven’s unruly wrath. 

Shimmering spots of gold and red danced in the air around you as you were encased in a dome of feather downing. Lucifer’s hands held steady onto your waist, his fingers a steady grounding force as your skin was set alight underneath his touch. A tingling, comforting warmth seeped into your bones. 

“I won’t let them take you again. I promise. I’ll keep you safe.” He reassured, though neither one of you were sure if he was talking more to you or to himself. 

His voice cut through the bells, an echoing tone that almost demanded you listen. You focused on it, on him, on the safety that you knew was within his presence. His horns and halo had found their way atop his head, a glowing ring of light encircling the snake around his devil’s horns that shone so brightly it almost blinded you. He had closed his eyes, his concentration focused wholly on protecting you. Slowly but surely the ringing seemed to be dissipating, becoming softer in tune as the lights around Lucifer blazed even more intensely. You felt his nails dig into your skin from the pressure of his grasp as you began to hear another sound accompanying the tolling of the bells. 

Soft, melodious, almost angelic-like singing. You couldn’t make out the words over the noise reverberating in your skull, but you could definitely make out the echoing and soothing sound of the voice that cut through the heavenly ringing like a clear hot knife. It worked to drown out the deafening bells until its calming tone was that remained in your ears. 

“And in the end, I won’t lose it all again. 

Now you’re the only thing worth fighting for.

More than anything. 

More than anything. 

I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything.” 

He was singing to you inside of your head. His voice soft and tranquil, a soothing lullaby chasing away the shrieking horrors. His eyes flickered open after a moment, meeting your gaze as everything seemed to return to normal around you. The color of his eyes had returned to their usual pale yellow, his horns and halo had disappeared along with the shimmering lights that had surrounded him. The only thing that remained was the canopy of his wings that covered the two of you. 

Certain that the ringing had completely ceased, you removed your hands from your ears. Bloodstained your hands and the sides of your head but Lucifer didn’t seem to care as his hands automatically found yours, giving your hands a tight squeeze as he held them. 

“You’re okay.” He reassured you. Your shocked expression was becoming worrisome, the way your whole body seemed frozen in his arms. It reminded him a little too much of how you had just ceased existing when the curse had struck the first time…had he failed somehow?  But no, you were looking at him, sort of, you were blinking, breathing. You were still alive. You were still here. With him. “You’re safe, sweetheart. Everything’s okay.” He told you again, giving your hands another squeeze. Still, you gave him no response. No sign of acknowledgment. His brow furrowed as a horrible thought popped into his head. One he realized he had to ask. “...can you…hear me, ducky?”

To be continued in Chapter 12...

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[1kook]

A COLLECTION  [ updated: 8 . 23 . 21 ]

— STATUS ONGOING — NO REPOSTS — ASKS under #ncouple ! — Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

—NETFLIX & CHILL.

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.  warnings smut in the forms of grinding, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla unprotected sex, dirty talk misc use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc  word count 10.2k  posted june 12, 2020

—HULU & WOOHOO.

summary But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings slight feelings of insecurity, smut in the forms of fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, riding, slight praise kink  misc if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read word count 6.3k posted july 4, 2020

—IMAX & CLIMAX.

summary The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl (? kinda), daddy kink that morphs into ily kink misc  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count 9.8k posted august 5, 2020

—KISSANIME & FOREPLAY.

summary You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings mentions of hentai, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 word count 8.2k posted september 1, 2020

—DISNEY+ & BUST.

summary There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.   warnings arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of humiliation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment (? idk lol), unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, the return of mean jk, desperate jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf misc angst, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count 13k posted september 9, 2020

—ESPN & BDSM.

summary You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.   warnings smut in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink misc kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count 12.7k posted september 14, 2020

—YOUTUBE & USE LUBE.

summary You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, tit fucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook misc domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count 8.7k   posted september 30, 2020

—VIKI & HICKEYS.

summary Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.   warnings a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries, jk is a good boy n I want him to be happy   misc there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide word count 16.3k posted january 14, 2021

—PEACOCK & SWEET TALK.

summary “I wanna watch Solange in Bring It On,” Jungkook smiles, and you have to wonder who exactly this blond man is and what he did with your teen-movie-hating boyfriend.   warnings smut in the forms of kissing, cunnilingus (eating out + fingering), light praise, a lil body worship, jk fat cawk, brief nipple play, playful jk, unprotected sex, riding and missionary, the jk hand kink, I love you kink, jk wants nudes, jk’s cheerleader fantasies mentioned, spit kink, light choking, jk has like a scent kink (?), mention of collars and pet play misc app developer jk becomes even MORE app developer-y, oc is anti-google, there's plot, a 2 year anniversary, Solange knowles appreciation, BLOND JK!!!, gets sappy for a sec, seahorse marriage mention, doyeon x joon side pairing, jk is disgustingly dreamy and oc is threatened by that fact word count 10.7k posted march 23, 2021

— CRUNCHYROLL & RAIL.

summary Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. warnings smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… misc fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality word count 8.7k posted may 21, 2021

—FUNIMATION & PROCREATION.

summary Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. warnings kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 misc the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches  jjk, oh no not twins word count 9.1k posted july 31, 2021

—BOOMERANG AND BANG. 

coming soon

—COOKIES & CREAM.

summary Jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy Christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (And maybe having his dick sucked.) warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, face fucking, cum facials, fingering, overstim, double orgasm, r*mantic sex, riding, unprotected, cream pies, jk does this weird thing where he licks her face yeah idk, jk loves seeing his gf cry, jk has an obsession with jizz   misc jk pov !!, eggnog slander, jk hates xmas movies, oc dresses like a sexy mrs claus, Elf !!, jk is in loooove word count 7.1k posted december 23, 2020

— TUTUS & TIARAS.

summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true  word count 10k posted august 23, 2021

— one.

summary Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same.  word count 1.3k posted September 10, 2020

—two.

summary Even after all these years, all these doubts, and all this solitude that was really no one’s fault but his own, he still finds himself hoping that maybe you’ll be the one. word count 1k posted september 11, 2020

—three.

summary But Jungkook loves the sun. word count 1.5k posted september 12th, 2020

—four.

summary For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. word count 800 words posted september 22, 2020

—five.

summary Startled and inexperienced, he can’t do anything but rub his hands over your back. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, even though it’s not. word count 1.3k posted september 22, 2020

—six.

SUMMARY Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. WC 1.8k POSTED september 25, 2020

—seven.

summary And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. word count 2k posted october 30, 2020

—eight.

summary You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.   word count 1.9k posted december 28, 2020

—nine.

summary “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” word count 2.2k posted january 8 2021

—ten.

summary See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. word count 1.4k posted february 14, 2021

—eleven.

summary You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. word count 1.2k posted may 3, 2021

—twelve.

summary Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. word count 1.4k posted may 8th, 2021

—thirteen.

summary Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.   word count 1k posted june 13, 2021

—fourteen.

summary Jungkook needs you to know that you can always count on him. word count 1.3k posted july 6, 2021

—fifteen.

summary It’s Jungkook’s teenage fantasy— being pushed down by a cheerleader. word count 3.1k posted august 9, 2021

— sixteen.

summary Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) word count 1.9K posted august 11, 2021

—seventeen.

summary She looks his way and suddenly Jungkook is nineteen again, in his dorm, listening to the first person he ever thought he loved telling him he’s too much to handle. word count 1.6k posted august 18, 2021

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cute and cozy gif by the lovely @ladyartemesia​ 

LASTLY: 

[bitchassbucky]

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

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4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

[aspiringsophrosyne]

Episode 4: Those Who Walk Away

There's a long line at the concession stand. Think you can get something before the show starts? Traffic was pretty bad.

Because trust me, you don't want to miss the beginning of this one.

The Good.

There's no end to the praise Liam O'Brien deserves just for the first couple of minutes of the episode. I knew what was coming; how devastating it would be for these characters and how painful it would be for them all. 

Especially for Vax. 

And still. Still. Vax's desperate "Somebody do something!!" stabbed me right in the goddamned heart. And the delivery of his line to the Queen of Death, the one that every critter who watched Campaign one knows, the words that changed Vax's destiny forever...perfect. 

The visuals for the ritual were really cool, too. It was hard to imagine how they would communicate what was happening in the show; as in the stream it was down to dice rolls and rituals. The gold dome over Vex, the Queen's claw piercing it and then causing it to shatter....it calls up dread from the deepest pit of your heart.

And then Vax just having the armor on when they turn around...quick, efficient and spooky as hell. Very good move there.

Those shots of the Calamity in the vision. My God. For the record, and I touched on this before, I love that the peeks we've gotten into that period of Exandria's history have been broad and unspecific. They are meant to be grandiose to mind-bending proportions, and you can ironically lose that effect by trying too hard to get that idea across. It also leaves the impression that as big and crazy as this all looks, what we've seen (Osysa's story in S2E2 and now Vax's vision) is only the tip of the iceberg. 

I like that Purrvan got to shine a bit here. Partially this is because I can sympathize with Matt over that name; (Vox Machina's reaction to it was pretty much the cast's in the stream) and also because it makes sense. Funny name or not, the Matron doesn't hire chumps. In the watch-along for this episode, the cast mentioned that they originally had Matt record grunts, sounds of effort, and reactions to getting hit...and then decided the scene was more striking without them. It was a good call. It gets across just how beyond Vax this former Champion is. And it foreshadows just how formidable a being Vax will one day become. 

As I've said before and will say again, titmouse knows how to do a good fight scene. I was surprised the monster was savvier than it looked, angling its tentacles around Keyleth's obstacles to get at her and Percy. Some damn good lines here too. Pike's understandable exasperation ("Son of a bitch!") and Percy's testy incredulousness ("Oh, just petrified!?") are incredibly relatable.

Perhaps the scene only feels this way to me because of hindsight, but Vax's acceptance feels like a crown being placed on a head under a guillotine.

I didn't immediately realize what they had done with the Deathwalker's Ward. I had honestly forgotten what it did: aside from its most obvious perk, which we'll see in a future episode. In the game, it's mostly a defensive item. Ironic: a Death Goddess's artifact that made it harder for you to die. But what they did in the show was combine it with another magic item Vax had, the boots of haste, which the twins fought over incessantly. They let him cast haste on himself without having that spell, and with it, he could haul ass like a motherfucker.

This allows us a demonstrative visual for the ward's power-up, and it gets those boots in the show without them being in it. Plus, the ability they grant fits Vax as a speedy, stealthy guy.

Not only that, but it also shows us in very little time just why Osysa sent Vox Machina after these things. Seeing the whole crew get trashed by this monster, only for Vax to take it down alone, cements how powerful the Vestiges are and how essential they'll be in defeating the Chroma Conclave. Another great use of show-don't-tell.

And that shot. That shot. Reactors and the cast alike can't help but cheer when That Shot happens, where Vax leaps into the air and is framed by the Matron's mural above him before he delivers the final blow. Like Liam O'Brien's acting, I can't say enough good things about that shot. It looks cool, but it also has weight; it suggests that Vax has taken his place as a figure in history who will have murals in temples dedicated to him that other adventurers will stumble upon one day.

The new implementation of the necklace is clever. It makes sense a bounty hunter would have something like it. And Wil get's one more good line out before he and Zahra exit.

The Bad. (Or at least not great.)

You're hot, then you're cold.

Zahra is the one to vocally oppose Vex's attempted resurrection. This contrasts her with Kash, who leaps right in to try to help when Pike's efforts don't work. This behavior comes across as somewhat inconsistent.

Zahra was the one who had a personal relationship with Vex, even if it ended badly. Zahra was the one who supported and saved Vex in the battle with the Adaro, even if it was at least partially to show her up.

I could see Zahra cautioning both Kash and Vox Machina that what he's trying to do for Vex has a minuscule chance of succeeding. Or even warning Kash against it for fear of drawing Vesh's attention. (Vesh is Kash's goddess, and she is bad fucking news.) But Zahra just unemotionally writing off Vex as dead and declaring it useless to try to help her seems disproportionally cold compared to how she'd acted up to that point.

No Drama is Better Than Bad Drama?

Previously, I was pleasantly surprised to see the Take included at all, let alone so well integrated into The Legend of Vox Machina's story. Likewise, Zahra and Kash were a delight, and the passion for their characters comes just as strong through Mary's and Will's performances as it does for the rest of the voice acting cast.

But the Onlooker fight is where the momentum stalls.

Zahra specifically says this to Kash after Grog is petrified:

Kash: Shit.

Zahra: Would you relax? As soon as they're restrained, I swipe the armor, you unfreeze your new friends, and we get the hell out of here.

So we have a clear scheme here. Let the Onlooker turn Vox Machina to stone, steal the Deathwalker's Ward from Vax, de-petrify everyone, then book it.

As far as plots to steal an artifact go, it's pretty tame and harmless. It probably wouldn't have even worked because after Vox Machina was restored, they would've been pretty pissed about the theft, and then it would've been a two-on-seven fight. One on seven, if Kash decided he wasn't on Zahra's side.

But as the battle continued, more of the other group succumbed, and Kash got upset and said he wouldn't be a party to Zahra's plan.

...Why?

Later, after Vax Awakens the Deathwalker's Ward, Kash says this to him:

Kash: Look, I'm sorry. We didn't mean for any of this to happen, I swear.

Yes, you did!! You absolutely did. Or at least Zahra did. That was her whole plan.

The script treats the fight like an escalation from what Zahra planned. That her recklessness and stubbornness let things get out of her control. That she put Vox Machina in danger.

By every indication, that is not what happened.

Things were going exactly as planned before she tried to put the monster back in her necklace on Kash's objections, and Vax Awakened the armor. 

Not only that, but Vox Machina would've been perfectly fine if everything had gone the way she'd wanted. They would've been rightfully pissed that their Vestige was stolen, but they would've been unharmed otherwise once Kash restored them.

The crew said in the Q&A that they wanted this monster fight to have more drama than its stream counterpart. I like drama. But I'm most satisfied with drama when it makes sense. When it's consistent with what we're seeing and hearing on screen. What I'm not impressed by is a drama that's introduced for the sake of it and thus ill-conceived and ill-implemented. That brings nothing to the table.

This isn't the first time the script of The Legend of Vox Machina was at odds with what we were actually seeing or had seen on screen. And sadly, it won't be the last time this season.

A Question of Motivation.

Something else harms the deployment of the monster. Beyond the disconnection between what's happening and what is said, Zahra's motivations, or lack thereof, hold things back.

Zahra's clearly irritated that Osysa told Vox Machina about the Ward instead of anyone at the Take, but how does this motivate her? Is she acting out of envy? Greed? Worry? A sense of responsibility? A feeling of betrayal? Her old bitter feelings about Vex? Does she feel Vox Machina could be worthy of the Vestige, but she won't accept that unless she sees it for herself? Or all of the above?

We'll probably see Kash and Zahra again. And future episodes could shed some light on this. But as of this episode, it's hard to tell how you're supposed to feel about her, the fight, and Vox Machina more or less letting her and Kash off the hook after. We can guess how she's feeling, but it isn't made explicit, so we don't know why she does what she does or whether or not we're supposed to find her actions understandable or sympathetic.

Here are two possible ways I think they could've done it better.

Option A, have Zahra announce to Vox Machina that although they found the Vestige, one of them would've died getting it if it wasn't for Kash (as far as those two know). The others will be similarly hard to get, and even if they manage to get them through pure dumb luck the way they got this first one, that doesn't mean they're worthy of them. Vestiges are incredibly powerful and dangerous; they shouldn't go to just any bumble fucks. So they must pass one last test to keep the Deathwalker's Ward.

And then Onlooker.

This approach makes for a smoother transition, firmly establishes Zahra and Kash's priorities and motivations, and gives the audience and Vox Machina a chance to understand their perspective. Because once we see Vax Awaken the Vestige and take the monster that had petrified the rest of the team down all by himself...we can understand why Zahra and Kash were trepidatious about letting someone outside the Take walk away with this thing.

And when Zahra and Kash see Vax do that, they relent, heal the others, and admit he's worthy to wield it.

Option B, we could've had the thing just be there like it was in the stream. But, we could have had Zahra and Kash be involved in its ambush of Vox Machina in another way. After the Adaro fight, while they're by themselves, the two mention that the fish people usually don't gather together unless they've got something bigger than themselves to latch onto. Similar to remoras and sharks. We could even add an image of the Onlooker drawn in the fresh blood from earlier for foreshadowing. But the two keep that to themselves; the monster attacks and everything plays out like in option A. 

Nitpicks

Let's look at Vex's line at the beginning of the episode.

Vex: Whatever happens...it's out of our control.

For anyone, for Vex, and especially for a kid, the line feels unnatural. In fact, it's obvious she says this not necessarily because it's in character but to set up Vax's Awakening of the armor later.

And you could argue that someone who didn't know what would happen wouldn't feel that way, but people will watch this show more than once. On a re-watch, a newbie might feel similarly.

While we could change the line, we might not even need one here. Just have Vax flashback to the twins and the bear while he's fighting Purrvan, only with him in the place of the mother bear with his young sister's hand soothing his cheek and his younger self's dagger at his throat. That gets across exactly how Vax's feeling in an instant with no dialogue at all, and it informs his letting go.

~~~

Instead of this at the end of the episode:

Vex: And what about my debt to the Slayer's Take?

Zahra: What debt?

I like something like this better:

Vex: And what about my debt to the Slayer's Take?

Zahra: Well, you did say you wanted to speak to Osysa because of four incredibly wealthy dragons didn't you? You better not fail in slaying them, then.

Zahra basically going put up or shut up here. You said you wanted a Vestige to kill dragons? Well, go kill some dragons. But it's not unkind, as it shows that now she thinks they might actually mean to try, and they actually might even have a shot at succeeding.

That's episode 4 down. It's only getting more interesting from here folks.

[dnsbarbie]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬┃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

chapter one

warnings: cursing, mentions of death, season 4/manga spoilers ??? (that’s about it, think!)

word count: 2,705

notes: this is the first installment of wistful irises !!! i guess it would be a slow-burn fic that would contain 5 or more chapters. i wrote this to cope with the tragedy of AOT manga chapter 138 — that’s just fucked up tbh.  please give this one a like/reblog/feedback so i know whether or not you liked it !!

NEXT CHAPTER: H E R E

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

It was quiet — so eerily quiet, a hand came up to soothe her ears bitten by the cold wind. Devon’s palm felt at the rough rubbles on the surface of which she was sat on. Everything she laid eyes on tugged at her heart, scanning at her surroundings as if she looked one more time, her vision would change. 

Alas, she gazed upon the damaged cities from her place atop Wall Rose, with no success. Devon threw her head back, opting to find comfort at the stars that laid peacefully on the sky. 

“They’re dead.” She asserted, nearly winced at the wave of overwhelming devastation rushing at her heart. 

However, she was unsure who or what she was alluding to. Was it the people of Paradis? Those she lost? Or even — the stars?

Nothing was clear, at the moment. Only hurt and confusion clouded her devices. She found her palms closing in on the small rubbles she had caught, clutching them tightly in her fist.

It had been four years since everything went into a complete spiral. Perhaps it was for her alone, considering a massive part of her died along with the hundreds of comrades who sacrificed themselves for the sake of the truth. 

She remembered the day they found out about the life that existed beyond these walls. The walls she had known all her life, was quite literally, made to imprison its people. It was unclear whether she was angry or sad that there was a whole world out there that hated their existence so much that they’d created monsters to attack them. 

“It’s late, Devon.” 

She recognized that sweet-tuned voice instantly but didn’t turn to look his way as she spoke. “It’s awfully cold, too.” Her voice came in a whisper.

Her new companions footsteps grew closer, making her glance to her right. “Are you here to wallow in despair with me, Armin?” 

The blonde simply sat down beside his friend, looking ahead the dark path. “No,” He answered. “I was just looking for you.”

The silence returned after that. Chilly air wafting at the night, Devon laid her hands on her lap, inspecting how they’ve gotten small cuts from the sharp stone she had held. Her ears felt blocked as her hands began to tremble. She clenched her teeth in the hopes to ebb away her impending emotions. She exhaled a shattered breath, pressing her hands against the skin of her face. 

Armin’s hand that intended to ease Devon’s cries, seem to have worsen them the moment it touched her. However, he continued on, rubbing small circles at the column of her back. 

“I — “ Devon started, her voice failing her as another ripple of pain pounded at her chest. 

An encouraging hand reached up against her own, gently coaxing her into a state of solace, just enough for her to be able to convey her emotions.

With a breath, Devon began once more. “I thought we’ll be close to peace, once we discovered what was in that goddamn basement,” She laughed, lacking humor. The back of her palm wiping at the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. “But — it was just another door to one more disaster.” 

“That’s true,” Armin agreed, but still mulled over her words. “It is a big step from freedom, though.”

She gritted her teeth, baring the headache that came with it. There was a part of her that knew it was the exact idea Armin had in mind. Regardless of her understanding, she couldn’t help but feel a whistle of displeasure crawling against her lips.

With a swing of her head, she finally flashed her attention to Armin. Devon gave him a once-over, noticing how his once shoulder-length hair, had been cut shorter, lips curled into a frown, dragging down a creases on his forehead. The main thing that always saddened Devon was the look in his eyes.

Armin was the last person Devon thought she’d see with those haunting wisp. He was the last shred of hope she had in this world, even before everything came tumbling down, Devon saw Armin as a beacon, that she could run to whenever it all became horrifyingly dark— staring at him now, Devon felt extremely helpless, loneliness grasping at her throat, catching herself reaching for Armin’s hand that was placed on her back, snatching it on her own.

“We’ve lost so much,” She mumbled, compressing her grip on his hand. “I can’t afford to lose anything anymore— Armin—”

“You won’t—”

“— If we go tomorrow, I will—”

“Devon—”

“No— we’re going into a lion’s den! Every single person in that goddamn land wants us dead!” She stressed, leaning in closer to Arnim as if it’s bound to improve his comprehension.

Armin halted, observing the panic flood in Devon’s sunken eyes. The usual brilliance of its green hue had faded over time. In it’s place were tired, dull irises staring back at him.

He swallowed the lump building up his throat, nodding in understanding. “I know— but we have to bring him home, Devon.”

With a quick dark chuckle, Devon faced the sky, leaning her head back. “I don’t even know if I want to see him,”

Huffing out a breath Armin was holding, he abruptly got on his feet, pulling his hands from Devon’s freezing ones.

The latter flashed him a confused glance, awaiting his next move. She watched as Armin shook off his Survey Corps jacket, soon hanging it on her shoulders.

Maybe it was the topic of discussion that made them neglect the air that had been a lot chillier than before. Devon felt warmth seeping back into her skin as she hugged the material tighter against her body.

“You don’t seem to have a choice for the matter,” Armin muttered, gazing down at her. “Whether or not you’re in good terms with him, Eren still belong with us.”

Devon grimaced, as if Armin had said something completely ridiculous— in her eyes, it was.

She recalled that painful night, about three months ago. The night Eren decided to sneak out and leave Paradis. He had been babbling about it for weeks prior to his escape. Devon made the mistake of thinking it was all that— mindless babbling.

She was wrong, of course. Eren had actually planned everything. He was going to see through his stupid plan.

“Are being fucking serious right now?” Devon hissed, distressed eyes were scanning Eren’s face, hoping this was some sick prank he’d gotten everyone in.

Eren cringed at the volume of her voice, hands putting up immediately to cup her mouth. “Devon— Please— Listen, yeah?”

His pleas were met by deaf ears, as Devon slapped his plams away from his mouth, glaring at him with the outmost disbelief.

“You’re being stupid,” She scoffed. “This is stupid— Eren— You want to go there?” Her furrowed eyebrows deepened the more she thought about it.

Eren bit his lip, nodding slowly, standing rigid in front of her, frozen at the fire in her eyes. He examined her, sitting on her bed, contemplating the information he threw at her face.

The light of the single candle in the room, illuminated the left side of her face as she turned to him again. “What ever you think is going to fix this, it’ll only call for another war—”

“That’s nothing new.”

“You selfish—” She had lunged at him, limbs acting before her brain. “—little brat—!” An echo deafening resounded in the small enclosed space, rearing on the silence it followed. Devon’s palm stung, eyes raging and barely seeing anything beyond her seething anger.

Before she had the mind to process anything, her head banged against a solid surface, a groan leaving her lips from the impact.

Everything was fuzzy, scarcely making out anything at sight. Only cloudy images filled her vision, almost not feeling the bruising grip pressing her down by the wrists.

The searing breath near her ear, felt uncomfortably cold, a pair of lips grazing at the tip, making her shudder.

“For your own protection— all of you— remember that . . .”

The words echoed, but she could barely hear the last ones, as her breath turned calmer, the last thing she saw were those turquoise orbs, looking back at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite read.

Devon shook herself out of the memory. There was more to it, she knew that — but she couldn’t seem to remember. When she tries, a huge headache always came crashing down on her. A sick wave slapped her as she thought about the dreadful possibility of Eren, messing with her memories. 

She hated the big gapping wall in her mind. It was always incomplete, left her nothing but empty guesses about what else he could have said to her that night before he left her hanging with a missing piece in her heart. 

He left them — and just like that, he gets to come home in the most unnecessarily brutal way possible. Eren was asking for a bloodbath, and unfortunately, that was what most likely going to happen tomorrow.

“He’s going to get us killed.” She muttered, voice thinning at the thought of her fallen comrades — endless blood — fire — explosions — “We’ll be lucky if we all make it out in one piece.” 

This time, Armin didn’t contract her declaration, having her look down. He was frighteningly aware of the fact that any of them could die at any given moment. It brought him peril at how Devon had smacked him in the face with the reality he was trying to avoid. A part of him wanted to believe it was all going to go smoothly, but the logical part of him had mulled over the dreadful alternative for a long time now.

He sympathized with the hostile feelings Devon had grown for Eren. Perhaps it was due to the puzzling relationship they possessed. If he was to base it on his observations alone, it was painfully obvious that they cared deeply for one another but never had the time or courage to say it. 

No one has ever pried about their relationship, since they both dismissed it as nonsense. It was perplexing yet as clear as day what they had for each other. 

They would always be found bicker when they were younger, Devon calling Eren an ugly airhead then Eren shooting back that they were the same. Back then, it was true. They were kids who thought they could do everything themselves. Armin could say, Devon grew out of that attitude as time passed by when he got to know Devon a little better. 

After the battle with Zeke, Reiner and Bertholdt, the amount of trauma everyone endured was terrible. The bloody aftermath of Paradis was engraved into their minds, never fading until their last breath. 

The guilt ate at Armin when he found out how he came to be alive. He often wondered why it was him. Why did Captain Levi give him the chance to live over Commander Erwin. 

On the other hand, remorse gripped at Devon’s throat at the unintentional betrayal that crossed her mind that day. She found herself opening her mouth before she could hide it away. 

“I was so desperate for peace . . .” She whispered, yanking down Armin by his hands, his behind slamming against the hard concrete as he was forced to sit down in front of her. “That I . . . For a long time — I believed that only Erwin could lead us there —”

“It’s alright — “

“It isn’t — it was meant to make me happy, for goodness sake — you came back from the dead after I stood there and watch you get burned alive . . .” She failed to realize she was crying until she felt droplets of her tears falling on her hands, intertwined with Armin’s.

Looking away, she continued, Armin watching her carefully. “Mikasa and Eren were desperately convincing Captain Levi to resurrect you — while I stared at both yours and Commander Erwin’s body , absolutely loathing the choice that had to be made.” 

Devon could no longer hold in her heavy sobs, as it broke through her completely. “I get why you thought that, and you weren’t selfish for doing it, were you?” She listened to Armin’s reassuring voice. “You thought Erwin should’ve had it because you believed people would follow him and would avoid getting hurt — “

“ — you’d be able to do that too, though . . .” Devon countered, sniffling as she glanced back at Armin’s oceanic orbs. “I was just blinded by fear to think straight back then.”

Armin smiled at Devon in a silent gratitude. “I thought about everything you did, too, and maybe you’re right, maybe I’m too blinded by my own fears to face another life that was given to me — but I promised Captain Levi and Commander Hanji I’ll do everything it takes to bring us the peace we’ve been seeking out for years.”

Devon winced at the sudden touch on her head, chestnut locks swishing from one side after the other as Armin ruffled her hair. 

“Regretting could only get you so far,” Armin stated, a small smile gracing his face. “What’s important is what you decide to do about it.”

Warmth flooded at Devon’s core, nearly bursting into tears at Armin’s comforting words. Her mind went back to Eren, his circumstances and living conditions on that island were mostly unknown. But seeing as he had the facilities to send a letter, hints that it must be at the least safe.

She started to fly over the scattered thoughts inside her head, mulling over how mentally drained she has been, yet the noise and dull of her heart seem to only worsen. The countless times she had to convince herself of the good things left in the world to bask the gift of life, but lately, she found herself sitting by the windowsill of her room. Eyes always glancing up the sky whether or not they were painted with shining stars. 

Devon often clutched her chest when the uncontrollable pangs in her heart refuses to remain still. Some days, the rejection of waking up rattles her tremendously, and the refusal to face the day ahead was stronger than anything. 

She wanted nothing more than to take a few steps back and reverse time to relish the tranquility of it all. It sounded ridiculously selfish, but she’d trade anything if it means she would awake to Eren and Jean’s loud voices arguing or to see Sasha pocket goods she had stolen from the kitchen while being chased down by Armin. And oh — what she wouldn’t give to replay the day they’ve all bonded together after Keith Shadis made Sasha run until she was in the brink of insanity. 

It’s those little things that made her nostalgic, bringing a sad smile on her lips that she wasn’t sure if she wanted those thoughts randomly popping up her mind. Sometimes, disbelief hits her harder than anything whenever she’d allow herself to scan the faces of what’s left of her teammates. 

When Erwin had told them, he knows “they’d one day go far and achieve great things”, if he was still here, Devon would surely make him look at what had become of them. 

Everyone was preparing for the expedition in Marley tomorrow. Devon had exited the room when she had heard the severity of the situation. Eren was going to wreck havoc in that foreign island and he gave them no other choice than to lend him aid. 

It was rather conflicting, Devon was worried for him but nonetheless, despised his living-breathing self. She often wondered about his whole motive, considering his adamant proclamation that it wasn’t for his own self-indulgence. 

It felt like it was, as she began to feel the shuddering screams of the impending battle that was set to take place. 

If another life of her loved one’s taken from her tomorrow, she fears that it might throw her in an unstable state and she had every right to blame it all on Eren.

[drabbles-mc]

Protective Detail (4/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, violence, blood, guns, mild injuries, Nestor being a goddamn thirst trap

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This chapter is a liiiiittle longer than the others have been but hopefully that’s not a problem. Did I do a deep-dive on Gino Vento’s google photos to be able to know what his body art situation is?? You betcha. Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @sillygoose6969​ @mydaiilyescape​ @lovebennycolon​ @the-radical-venus​ @gemini0410​ @garbinge​ @slutformayansmc​ @paintballkid711​ (as always, if you want to be on my taglists feel free to let me know!)

Despite the fact that the only thing on your agenda for the day was going to the grocery store, you still came into the kitchen in the morning to see Nestor sipping coffee in yet another button-down shirt and pair of slacks. You wondered for a moment if the man even owned just a pair of casual blue jeans.

“I don’t know where the Galindos shop,” you said with a laugh as you poured a cup of coffee, “But the grocery store I go to doesn’t have a dress code. I thought you knew that.”

He shook his head but you could see the smirk pulling at his lips, “This is just how I dress, Y/N.”

He didn’t use your name often, but each time he did you felt your entire body turn into jello for a few moments before you regained composure again. You took your time getting ready, loving that you didn’t feel rushed or like you were on a schedule. You told Nestor that he could drive, pretending that you just wanted the extra space in his car for shopping purposes. But you were also testing a theory that if you let Nestor have his way more often, he would let you know a little more about who he was as a person. Plus, you had to admit, you didn’t really mind his driving too much. Even if he did drive without the radio on.

Having Nestor with you while you grocery shopped was nice because you got to leave him in charge of pushing the cart while you perused the aisles and picked things out to eat for the next few days. You’d shove produce in his face and ask him if he thought it was fresh, and he would begrudgingly help you out, rolling his eyes at how terrible you were at telling if cantaloups were ripe.

The two of you were walking down the cereal aisle and he was shaking his head at you while fighting back a smile, “You’re like a child with access to a credit card.”

“Listen, Nestor,” you stood on your tip-toes to try and reach towards the back of the top shelf, “Coco Puffs have no age limit.”

He reached over you with ease and grabbed the last box from the back of the shelf and placed it in the cart, not saying a word as he continued pushing onward. You smiled to yourself for a few moments before snapping back to reality and speed-walking a few steps to catch up with him.

He was helping you bag items at the self-checkout and if you were honest with yourself, every now and then you would forget that he was with you to keep you from getting shot or kidnapped. Sometimes you even felt like friends, as much as someone like Nestor would let a person be friends with him.

Once you were out on the road and heading home, you looked over at Nestor with puppy-dog eyes, “Can we stop at Starbucks?”

He looked at you, shaking his head the second he saw the way you were looking at him, “The lines are always ridiculous. The ice cream will melt.”

You sighed, knowing that puppy-dog eyes most likely weren’t going to work on him but it was worth a shot anyway. You leaned back in your seat and scrolled on your phone, wanting desperately to play music to break up the silence.

Nestor passed the street that you normally turned off to get home. You looked over at him and saw how tense his body was. You sat upright, putting your phone back in your purse, “What?”

He nodded towards the rearview mirror, “Car’s been following us since we left the store.”

Your stomach knotted and you tried to take a deep breath but it didn’t help to calm you down at all. You instinctively reached for the glove compartment like it was your own car, and you were expecting Nestor to stop you, but instead he reached and opened it for you, not having to take his eyes off the road to dig around and get the gun out for you.

“You shouldn’t need to use it,” he placed the weapon in your hand and his lingered for a moment, “But just in case.”

He did his best to stay on busier roads, hoping it would be a deterrent, and also hopefully make it easier to lose whoever it was that was tailing them. You felt your heart pounding inside your chest—you had been hoping that your father had dealt with everything and that Nestor really was just an unnecessary precaution, but that wasn’t the case.

Somewhere along the way, the road went dead. Nestor was white-knuckled on the steering wheel and you were trying not to let your hands shake. He had been steadily increasing your speed, but even so the car had kept up and pulled up alongside you. You tried to get a good look at the people who were inside, but before you could, Nestor slammed on the gas and tried to speed ahead of them in one last burst to lose them.

Before he could successfully get in front of them, they swerved and hit the back driver’s side corner of the car. With the speed that Nestor had picked up they hit you hard enough to send the car spinning. By some miracle the vehicle didn’t roll, but you swerved off the road and slammed into an embankment, trashing the front of the car and pinning Nestor’s side. Even if he wanted to open his door and get out, he couldn’t. It all happened so fast, you don’t think you would’ve been able to explain exactly how the two of you ended up in that position even if someone tried to pay you to.

The other car pulled up, opening their passenger door. You had already undone your seatbelt and you instinctively shot the gun in your hand, busting the glass window. You fired off a second bullet and got the man who was coming towards you in the leg, causing him to drop. You were getting ready to fire off a third shot when a third man jumped out of the car and dragged him back throwing him in the back seat, the only sound in the air was a slew of curses of the man who was bleeding. You froze up, unable to take an easy shot that would take someone’s life.

“Just fucking go!” the man yelled as he barely got his accomplice into the back seat.

The car started peeling away before the back door was even completely shut. Clearly, they hadn’t been planning on you being armed at all, let alone ready to shoot. You took a shaky breath as you put the safety back on the gun. You turned to Nestor, who had a harsh burn along his neck from his seatbelt, as well as a cut and a welt on the side of his forehead from where his head slammed against the window while you were spinning out. You unclicked his seatbelt and gently tried to wake him without shaking him, not knowing how hard he had slammed his head.

“Nestor?”

He groaned in response, “Fuck.”

“Oh thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief.

“How many?”

“At least three,” you gently and slowly turned his head, trying to get a better idea of his injuries. You had a feeling that it was nothing serious—he was just going to be bruised and sore for a few days. His side of the car got slammed pretty bad when you went off the road. You pressed your lips together for a moment, “Still got feeling in all your limbs?”

He laughed, although it was weighted with sarcasm, leaning back against the headrest, “Yea.”

“Good,” you sighed, letting your body sink back into your seat as well, “All things considered, this could’ve gone a lot worse.”

He looked over at you, “Looks like we’ll be using your car for a few days.”

You slowly shook your head, “The ice cream is definitely gonna melt.”

His next laugh was genuine, despite the pain he was in, “You have the worst priorities in the world.”

“Hey, I checked to see if you were alive, didn’t I?”

After a few phone calls made to your father and some of his connections, you had a tow-truck and a temporary replacement car there in no time. It was convenient, the only thing you weren’t thrilled about was the fact that your father was the one who delivered it.

“What happened?” he ran to you and wrapped you in a hug

“They followed us out of the grocery store,” you said, taking a slight step back when he finally released you from his embrace, “Nestor noticed right away. They never saw my house.”

He nodded, “That’s good at least,” he held you gently by your upper arms, “How are you? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, “Neck is sore from getting spun out, but I’m alright. I should probably get Nestor home so I can get his cuts cleaned up.”

“You have things to take care of him?”

You nodded, “Yea of course.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

You shook your head, “No, I think we’ll be okay. I just wanna get home.”

He nodded understandingly, “Okay. I love you, mija, you know that right?”

You smiled, “I know. I love you too,” you hugged him, “I’ll talk to you later and give you a full download of the situation, alright?”

“Alright. Please, drive safe.”

“I will,” you kissed his cheek, “Te quiero.”

“Te quiero,” he walked over and shook Nestor’s hand, “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

He nodded, feeling like there wasn’t much to thank him for in this situation, “Your daughter is a very capable woman.”

“She is,” with a final nod and one last look over at you, your father went back to his own car and took off.

You and Nestor waited for the tow truck to finish loading the SUV before finally piling into the car your father had brought for you. It was pretty reminiscent of Nestor’s SUV and you knew that was probably by design. In the back of your mind you knew your father probably wanted it to be your car so he could finally give you what he considered to be a real car. Truthfully you hated driving bigger vehicles, but you weren’t about to hand the keys over to Nestor.

“I’m sorry,” he said one you were both in the car.

“What’re you sorry for?” you asked as you buckled in.

“It never should’ve come to that, to you having to use my gun.”

You shook your head, “Don’t do that. You were unconscious. Not even you are cool enough to be able to pull that off while knocked out. Thanks to you, I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. So don’t beat yourself up,” you waited for him to meet your eyes, “Self-pity is the only thing that doesn’t look good on you, so knock it off,” you offered a small smile as you started the car.

He smiled as he settled into his seat but he didn’t say anything. The drive passed in silence, and for once you weren’t itching to turn the radio on. Part of you wanted to reach over and cover Nestor’s hand with your own, but you fought the urge. He somehow managed to keep his eyes open the whole ride home.

Once you started getting what was left of the groceries out of the car, Nestor asked for the house keys so he could do a check. You told him not to bother, that there would be no way a second threat would be lurking in your house after what just happened, but he insisted. It wasn’t a battle you were going to pick, so you handed over the keys.

The house was quiet, and you didn’t make any comment on it as you started unpacking the groceries. Nestor was sat on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, and the look on his face made your heart feel heavy. You texted your father, asking for one small, very ridiculous favor, hoping that he would grant it to you.

Once all of the groceries were put away, you went and grabbed your first aid kit from the bathroom and sat down next to Nestor on the couch. This time, he didn’t look annoyed about the closeness you shared.

“C’mere,” you motioned for him to lean closer to you so you could start wiping and cleaning out the cut on his forehead. Neither of you said anything while you tended to him. He cringed slightly when you used the alcohol, but he remained silent. You told him that after he showered you would put a bandage on it just as a precaution, but the gash wasn’t really that deep. It was more to make you feel better about it. You wiped down the burn across his neck with an anti-bacterial rub, but there wasn’t a whole lot else that you could do for it.

“How’s your side?” you nodded to his side that got slammed into the door of the car when you hit the embankment.

“It’s fine,” he wasn’t looking at you.

“Can I see it?”

He stood up, ready to go shower and wash the day away, “I said it’s fine.”

“Well if it’s fine then there’s no reason not to let me see,” you weren’t yelling but it was a firm tone that you hadn’t used with him before.

He sighed, not having the energy to put up a fight. He untucked and un-buttoned his shirt, pulling the one side out so that you could see his chest and ribcage. There were a few bruises starting to come in, but it didn’t look terrible. You tried to stay focused on the real reason you wanted to look at him, but you had to admit that you let your eyes linger a little longer than medically necessary. You hadn’t been expecting to see so much ink on his skin.

“Can I go shower now?”

You nodded, “Yea. Thank you.”

You didn’t have the energy to go and get changed, so instead you melted into the couch, pushing the first aid kit to the floor. You heard the shower turn on and then, for the first time, he put music on. Your eyes went wide, thinking for a moment that you must’ve hit your head at some point too and were hearing things. After a minute went by, you finally let yourself relax, not even wanting to turn the television on and risk drowning out the melodies drifting out of the bathroom. You didn’t know what kind of music you were expecting Nestor to listen to, but what he was playing was much more mellow than you thought it would be.

You were resting with your eyes closed when there was a light knock on the door. You got up, smiling because you knew what it was. You opened the front door, smiling at your father’s newest assistant who looked like he was only a couple weeks out of college. He stood there with a smile as he held out a brown paper bag to you.

“Your dad said you needed these?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, thank you so much,” he nodded and went to walk away when you caught his attention again, “Hey, I never caught your name.”

“Ricardo. You can call me Ricky.”

“Thank you, Ricky.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Have a good night.”

You shut and locked the door and put the bag in the freezer, grinning over the fact that your father was still willing to indulge you in silly things like this even after all this time. You snapped back to reality when the sound of the shower and the music both shut off. The door creaked open and you fought the urge to peak into the hallway.

After a few minutes went by and Nestor didn’t reappear in the living room, you took it upon yourself to go to him. You grabbed the bag out of the freezer and two spoons before making your way down the hall.

You knocked lightly on the door, not used to it being shut. His voice was quiet on the other side, “Yea?”

You opened the door and fought to not let your jaw hit the floor. Nestor was lying on his bed, eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. All you could think about, though, was the fact that he was lying there with no shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants. You truly couldn’t believe the number of tattoos that the man had. His chest, stomach, and arms were completely decked out in ink of all kinds. You hadn’t given much thought to him having tattoos—you saw the one on his neck and his hands but other than that it never really crossed your mind. Your quick glance earlier didn’t do his extensive body art justice.

And his hair wasn’t braided—his long, thick curls were thrown up into a messy bun on top of his head. You were certain that there would never be a better look for him than that. You wished it didn’t take such a rough day to get it out of him. You cleared your throat slightly, chastising yourself over how your mind instantly flew to some very unprofessional places.

“I come bearing gifts,” you said as you walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, “Well, gift. It’s just one.”

He opened one eye, smiling as you set the pint of ice cream and spoon on his nightstand, “Which of your father’s assistants had to drive that over?”

You laughed, “The new one, Ricky.”

He forced himself to sit upright, “Poor kid.”

He reached for the ice cream and your eyes were glued to his forearms, figuring it was the safest place for you to study as you digested all of the new ink that you were seeing. You were trying not to gawk but he was making it really difficult for you. You bit down lightly on your bottom lip, unable to force yourself to look away.

He noticed you staring and immediately became very aware of how he looked, “Fuck, sorry. Let me grab a shirt.”

You shook your head, “Stop. This is your home too for now. I don’t give a shit,” you laughed, “After today you can wear whatever you want,” you took a scoop of ice cream out of your pint, “Your hair looks good like that, by the way.”

He smiled, slowly pulling his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged by his pillow, “Thanks. You tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You laughed, “Hey, man-buns are in right now.”

He chuckled as he methodically scooped away a layer at a time. You pulled your feet up and sat the same way he was, the two of you facing each other. Neither of you said anything as you ate, and you soaked up the moment.

“Can I put a bandage on your cut?” you asked as you put the top back on your ice cream container.

“It’s really not that bad.”

“I know but it’ll make me feel better.”

He shrugged, nodding, “Sure.”

You gathered up your spoons and what was left of your ice cream and walked out of the room. You tossed the containers back into the freezer before going to grab the first aid kit off of your floor. After thinking about it for a moment, you made a pit-stop in your room and changed out of your clothes, opting for a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt.

By the time you walked back into his room, Nestor had put on a t-shirt moved to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs off so his feet hit the floor. You sat down next to him and looked at his forehead. You sifted through the different-sized bandages you had before you found one that was satisfactory. You leaned in, gently applying it to his forehead.

You rested your palm on the side of his face, lightly tracing your thumb over the bandage to make sure it was completely on. Nestor’s eyes were closed, and without thinking better of it, he leaned slightly into your touch and you froze, not wanting to give up the contact. You tried to relax your body, but you couldn’t.

A few seconds later he opened his eyes again, and realized what he was doing. He sat upright and cleared his throat, not sure what to say or do. You forced yourself to break the silence, “Need anything else?”

He shook his head, “No. Thank you. I know I’m here to keep you safe but you definitely saved my ass today.”

You chuckled, “And you can save my ass tomorrow,” your expression grew a little more serious, “But really, you good?”

He nodded, “I’m good.”

“Okay,” you rested your hand on his knee for a moment, “Goodnight, Nestor.”

You went to take your hand away as you stood when you felt his come to rest over it, completely enveloping it, “Goodnight,” he gave your hand a soft squeeze.

You walked out of his room, shutting the door behind you. you turned off all the lights in the house before going to your room and collapsing onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened that day. You traced over the top of your hand where Nestor’s had been and, despite the day the two of you had had, you found yourself smiling.

[nohoney]

Tell Me (When You’re Ready) - 4.1

notes: Part 4 of the Us Series also on ao3

Us Series Masterlist

warnings: 18+, drug use, polyamory, low key manipulation, toxic relationships, cheating

summary:

He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. 

4.1 ✧ 4.2 ✧ 4.3 ✧ 4.4

At first glance, Touya didn’t really think much of you the first time he had seen you.

You were just another random party goer to him, one of many he saw whenever he attended those kinds of things, easier to just sell to his clientele if they conglomerated in these kinds of functions, though with the slightly older ones they have to blend in better since they’re technically crashing a house party. University students, upcoming freshmeat, recently graduated alumni and some of their plus ones or more, it’s so easy to tell who the veterans are versus the greenhorns.

The ones who can hold themselves together versus the ones that need to be carried, the ones who can hold there liquor versus the ones that need to be babysat, the strong versus the weak.

And you were that in between, walking around cross faded with eyes that looked lost in space but when someone put a hand on your shoulder then you would come back to earth, but not with your feet touching the ground. Like your feet just barely skimming the surface but still wanting to float in the sky, streaming through a pleasant haze just a bit longer until the high ends and you’ll have no choice until it’s time to walk amongst the animals again.

You sat on the couch with a few girls, talking amongst themselves and no doubt grouped together to protect one another from the predators; who could resist drunk and weak girls, especially the ones who looked the most broken. The eyes of the boys on your group and hoping to try to break into the circle and pick off the weakest to break away the pack. They get especially eager when the group wants to drink more, but you and two friends decide to go outside to smoke a joint instead.

“I’m drunk, I need’a go outside.”

The first words he ever heard you say, though not the first he’s heard but it sounded cute the way you slurred them out.

His eyes followed you briefly, holding hands with a friend as you made your way to get to the outside for a smoke.

“Yo Dabi! Good to see you man!”

He passed discreet little baggies, pink and blue tablets, little pills, he always gets a pat on the back from the boys and winks from the girls.

The girls like him, more than a few offering a little something extra when he makes a successful sale. Two of his whores are at this party, the decent flings he goes back to every so often when he wants to get his dick wet and when they want his goods.

Good dick and good drugs, it’s nice to get a two for one sale.

The second time he sees you at the party, he’s just leaving a room and fixing his belt while you sit at the top of the stairs with a friend. You and your friend are engrossed in your conversation, more than likely a similar talk happening somewhere inside the house party because you talked about your regrets of the way you and your ex broke it off, just more drunk girl talk. “It was so… so fuckin’ stupid dude, I was drunk and he showed up. We fucked but whe’ I woke up the next day, I fuckin’ left and just didn’t talk to him again.”

The second thing he ever heard you say but Touya literally passed by three girls half an hour ago that had a similar conversation, yours was nothing special.

Touya always denies drinks, offers of lines and other things when he goes to these kinds of functions, he needs a clear mind when he deals. He’s not dumb as fuck when he’s high or when he’s on, he can handle himself quite well and could sell just as well even if he were, he just doesn’t want to be relaxed around people that he doesn’t know that well or trust. It would have been nice if Keigo tagged along but the fucker’s Adderall hadn’t worn off in time to accompany him. Keigo gives him a good break from the others, kinda resets him and then he goes back to his business.

But Keigo isn’t around so Touya settles for plowing girls in random rooms of the house to give him a brief recess and then he’s back out there.

The third time he sees you, you’re leaning against the body of a young man just a little taller than Touya but nothing in the way he holds you shows that he has any ill intentions towards you. It feels rare sometimes to see two people having a platonic friendship, especially between two people of the opposite sex. Touya’s already sold your friend whatever he wanted but sticks around to make conversation, though it’s an excuse because he can’t help but note the way you’re being held in your friend’s arms. He tries to not make it obvious as he talks but truthfully, Touya wanted to just look at you. It’s obvious that there’s nothing romantic in the way your friend holds you but for some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him.

Even with his eyes up on your friend, he can see how you cling to your friend’s body with your arms wrapped around him so securely and with so much trust. Touya notes how you’re practically purring as your friend pets your head, sometimes massaging the tips of his fingertips against your scalp and then rubbing your shoulder in comfort. And he can see how you peeked up at him a few times, your curious eyes on him but Touya recognizes the cloudy way you look up at him. It’s not out of interest in the way you looked at him but probably just wondering why he was around.

Eventually you stop looking at him and choose to shut your eyes, concentrating on your friend petting your head instead.

“You want to try anything (Name)? Dabi’s got the best shit I’ve ever had, pretty fucking primo.” your friend had offered but you shook your head and said no. And goddamn if it wasn’t the cutest no that Touya’s ever heard in his life, the third thing he's ever heard you say. “Girl’s been pretty curious about wanting to try coke but she hasn’t worked up the nerve to actually give it a try. You know what, lemme buy a half off you too and maybe this’ll be the night that she finally gives it a try.”

Touya went home wondering if you lost your cocaine virginity that night.

That question wouldn’t be answered until a couple month’s later after you and him shared a philosophy class together. Touya remembered you very clearly but for some reason, his gut twists a little when you spoke to him the first time and it’s clear that you didn’t remember him from the party. He decides to forgive you for not remembering him because he feels like he can’t stay mad at you, not with that cute face you have.

But it’s just like at the party, you don’t seem particularly interested in him but Touya’s interested in you so he decides to seek you out more. He starts to crave your attention but he doesn’t want to look like a fool if it’s a one-sided attraction so he lays the charm on you, calls you pretty names that he’s never used on other girls. At first Touya thinks that you can just be girl number nine, hopefully another easy hole for him to use when he has an itch to scratch.

Now Touya’s fucked a lot of girls. He’s taken innocent girls virginities before and he’s had some pretty wild sex with the campus sluts, but there’s something different about you. You’re not a prude, not in the way you flirt back and insinuate wanting to take a seat on his face sometimes, but you’ve got some untouched parts of you that he wanted to lay a claim on. He’d show you new things and hold your hand over what you’d be too scared to do on your own or with others, he’ll watch over you. Imagine his giddiness the first time he ever cut lines of coke for you, it turned out that your cocaine virginity belonged to him this entire time.

"Oh... it's not that bad!"

You took that line so good, how about you take my cock next?

You tease him, playing coy one moment and then acting like nothing happened next.

And normally with bitches that do that shit with him for too long, Touya drops them pretty fast and moves on to the next. A little flirting and teasing is fine but he’s not looking to play a long term game with that kind of bullshit, it’s either happening or it’s not.

But with you it’s different.

You’re different.

Touya starts to obsess over you so slowly that he doesn’t even recognize it at first. All he knows is that he has to have you, he ghosts four of his whores in favor of being with you even though there wasn’t a guarantee that he would get in your pants. He just dropped the ones that he sought for sex only, the other half are still his clientele so he keeps those ones around, plus they're still decent lays. Keigo notices it, the way his friend talks over some girl that he hasn’t even fucked yet and letting go of four of his side whores has him thinking, ‘Wow, she must be something to get Touya’s attention this bad.’

The semester starts to come to an end and he still hasn’t bagged you yet, he calls you his doll but you haven’t let him play with you. He places one of his whores face down and ass up after she does a few lines, imagines that it’s you underneath him and what you might sound like and its your ass he’s grabbing. Touya can imagine it, you weak underneath him and begging for his cock but when the bitch under him whines out ‘Dabi’, he almost loses his boner. He tells her to shut the fuck up and bite the pillow, doesn’t want to hear her stupid sounds because he wants to envision you instead.

But even imagining you calling him Dabi feels wrong, Touya rolling off your pretty lips as he paints your insides white… it blows him over the edge.

In his mind that’s what he wants, but you don’t get the right to call him by his real name. He doesn’t know you like that so you’re just like everyone else for now, referring to him as Dabi. At some point he figures that this fixation he has on you will burn out soon. And yet Touya finds himself drawn further to you, wanting you more and more, doesn’t want you to wander too far away from him and wants to know who you’re with when he’s not by your side.

And he wanted to fuck you too, so fucking bad.

His first try was with a night cap at his place, the first time Touya ever had a girl over in his space. But it seems you know your limitation on alcohol and don’t let him pour you an extra drop, wanting to be able to drive yourself home and be in decent shape for your lectures. He smokes you up one day and it goes in a good direction, you were relaxed and sending him some good signals that lead to the two of you making out. It didn’t go further because he got a phone call from his mother that he couldn’t possibly ignore, but you thought ‘Oh a mama’s boy, that’s so sweet.’

It’s the third time that he finally gets you, playing music in his car that gets you in the mood and that gets you naked in his backseat. He doesn’t know what made you ready all of a sudden but he didn’t stop to ask as you fervently sucked him off. You were more riled up than him, so excited to get his dick and that eager look in your eye when you commanded him to blow your back out. And he sure did not disappoint, he never disappoints when it comes to his dick.

And a relationship persists forward to the surprise of both of you, liking each other more than you thought you would but there were no labels yet, Touya wasn’t used to having a girlfriend so he didn’t want to call you that at first and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Neither of you really spoke about what you were to one another despite the attraction and the lazy build of emotions that neither of you were aware of in the beginning. All Touya knew was that he wanted you to be around him more and be waiting for him when he returned back to his apartment.

It’s difficult to say when mutual attraction turned into the of you catching feelings for one another. You and Touya were hooking up for a couple of weeks after the end of the semester of the one class you shared together, and while he was aware that you were a little disgruntled at him fucking the girls he sells to, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time. Didn’t he make it obvious that you’re different from them and that he only cared about you? So what if he got his dick wet from other girls aside from you? He’d been doing it before he started seeing you but he always came back to you afterwards, so why were you so pissed?

“It’s just business doll.”

It wasn’t official between the two of you yet so there wasn’t much you could say at the time. You just figured that if Touya liked you so much then he would stop and Touya figured that since you liked him just as much then you would understand.

But Touya remembers that night when he left to go sell at another house party, trying to spend time with you before he had to leave but you wouldn’t let him. He knew you were mad again because he just came back from selling to one of his whores which meant that, ‘Yes, she offered her pussy when I got there so we fucked.’ He honestly did not understand where your jealousy was coming from. You were there, sitting in his apartment and spending nights in his bed, he was doing shit with you that he’d never done with anyone else and you were still getting mad at him.

How did you not get that you were different from the rest of them?

But Touya wasn’t going to put more effort into making you feel better when you didn’t want to be cheered up, so he left to do his usual thing.

And when he came back to his apartment earlier than expected, which was only one in the morning, he found that your car was not in the guest parking and therefore you were not waiting for him inside his home. He tried ringing you to find out if you went back to your place but it went straight to voicemail so he goes to your home in hopes that you would have been there instead. But you’re not there when he arrives and you don’t answer his texts and phone calls still don’t go through."Fucking bitch! Where the hell are you?"

Touya can stay up until three in the morning at most if he’s not on anything but that night was the only night he had ever stayed up by just being angry alone. He was riled up and emotions all over the place, hands shaking so bad that he needed to punch something, almost considered putting his fist through his wall. He was fucking furious because he knows immediately that you went out to be with someone else, went to get fucked by some scum because you wanted to be a vindictive little cunt about what happened earlier.

He had practically barged into Keigo’s place and shook him awake in his bed because he didn’t know who to turn to.

“She’s out getting fucked. I fucking know she is!”

“Wha-? Touya…” Keigo groggily sat up in his bed and brushed off Touya's hands off his shoulders, blonde hair a mess from tossing and turning but he gives his friend his undivided attention. He hadn’t met you yet, had only seen pictures and nudes of you that Touya shared with him, but he’s pretty shocked over how outraged Touya is. He’d never seen his friend get so worked up over one girl before, so it speaks volumes to him to see Touya so unhinged. “What makes you say that? Maybe she’s out with friends or something. Just because she’s not back in her place doesn’t mean that she’s getting with another dude.”

But Touya’s gut said otherwise and he insisted that it was right.

“Okay man, I’m going to put some things in perspective for you. I don’t know this girl but it’s obvious that you’re into her… like a lot, but I can’t really blame her for going out to be with someone else if that’s what she’s doing right now. She can still go do what she wants just as much as you can. If you guys haven’t defined what you are to one another, especially with how you operate, then you don’t have much of a right to be telling her what to do.”

Touya was livid when you returned to your apartment, angry that you had the audacity to be so spiteful with him and furious at the thought of you underneath someone that wasn’t him. It fucking hurt him because he didn’t fuck the whores to make you angry, they didn’t mean anything to him compared to you. But in the aftermath of hatefucking turning into lovemaking, he still mulled over Keigo’s advice, deciding that maybe it would make you happy to call you his girlfriend if it meant that you wouldn’t go behind his back again. You're his favorite, his number one, his only one, if reassuring is what he has to do then he'll put up with it as long as he doesn't have to say it too often. And fine, if it really bugged you that much then he decided to make it fair by giving you permission to sleep with who you wanted provided that you always came back to him the same that he did with you.

Except that after he put it out there, he immediately regretted putting the offer out but knew that a fight would surely begin if he decided to take it back. Once again the thought of you being with someone else had got his teeth grinding and gave him anxiety. You’re his fucking girl, his precious doll that deserved to be put on a throne and be given whatever you wanted. Touya wanted nothing more than to protect you from assholes who didn’t appreciate you like your dumbass ex-boyfriend.

“(Name)’s really great, I’m glad the two of you are together. Though are you sure you’re okay with her seeing other guys too? I know you said it to be fair to her but I see you get bent out of shape if she’s even around just one of her guy friends.” Keigo puffed on cigarette, tapping some of the excess ash off the tip before returning the filter to his lips. “You really going to be okay if she decides to get picked up by another dude?”

Touya let out a frustrated sigh as he lit his third cigarette in a row; you’d be pissed if you found out but he was fortunate that you would be out for a few hours so he had time to clean away the evidence. “They’re gonna treat her like shit, I know the assholes out there would but if I take it back, she’s going to get pissed. She didn’t even fucking apologize for fucking someone else behind my back. I don’t want her to be used by someone else, she’s not a whore.”

“Correction, you mean she’s your whore.”

The only one who understood his way of thinking was Keigo.

There’s a night where you sleep in your own apartment while Touya and Keigo sit outside your complex, leaning against his car and just looking at the balcony that they know is attached to your place. A six pack of beer sits on the hood of the car, two slots empty as they each hold a bottle in their hand. Keigo quietly admits to him, “I think I might like (Name) Touya. Like I think I like her a lot, more than just wanting to fuck her and more than just as a friend.”

Touya quietly takes in Keigo’s confession and just nods his head, still looking up at your balcony and hoping that you’re sleeping well. He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. He hesitantly admits back, “… I think I love her.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah, wow…”

“You really think you love her?” Keigo asked after polishing off his first beer. “What about that whole arrangement thing? If you tell her you love her, she might question you since, you know, you’re still fucking other girls. If you love her then she’ll expect you to be monogamous with her.”

“If she still takes me up on that arrangement, I don’t think I can handle it. Only people who love her should be allowed to fuck her.” In other words, only he should be the only one to have you. No one else loves you like Touya does, he’ll fucking kill any asshole that thinks they can use you as their fucktoy. When Keigo asks again about the other girls, he growls at him and tosses his bottle onto the concrete. “I’m fucking working on that, alright. I just… don’t know how to fucking commit. It’s too fucking hard to do this by myself.”

Keigo just pops the cap off another bottle and hands it to Touya. “Would it help if I joined the relationship? I’m sure we can work something out with (Name), provided she’s willing.”

Touya would observe you and Keigo together, you oblivious to his friend’s flirtations at times and mistaking it as him just being very friendly. He could see golden eyes wandering down your body, already knowing what you looked like without any clothes and how pretty you look when you’re gagging on a dick because Touya’s shown him your nudes and recorded videos of you. Keigo can try to hide and put up a front that he’s just lusting over you but Touya can see that his friend has got that little lovestruck glint in his eyes when he looks at you; and honestly, he’s not even upset about it. The vision of you and Keigo together, it makes him comfortable rather than the anxiety he feels when he thinks about you with someone else. They obsess over you together, you blissfully unaware of how tortured Keigo was sometimes that he couldn’t plow his cock into you because you saw him as just a friend.

So he takes up Keigo's offer.

He was hoping that the transition to introduce Keigo into the relationship would go smoother, but it only comes up after a fight when he brings you with him to a house party for the first time.

God, Touya didn’t mean what he said to you that night when you and Keigo rolled together; he was just frustrated because he didn’t know what he could do to show you that you meant more to him than you knew. No matter how much he reassured you, you kept on letting your stupid insecurities get in the way!

“C’mon man, one minute you’re telling me you love her and now all of a sudden you’re breaking up with her?” Keigo scolds him, unaware that you leave the both of them behind and duck into the house.

“I’m not trying to break up with her! I’m just— fuck, she just doesn’t get that… fuck!”

He’s at a loss of words, he doesn’t want to be mad at you but you couldn’t get over your hangups over the side whores. They weren’t his other girlfriends, not his side bitches, or anything like that. Touya literally only sees them for probably twenty minutes max on the occasion they hit him up, nothing compared to all the time dedicated to you. They can claw at his dick however much they want, that’s all they want from him anyway aside from the pills and powders he sells to them. If it gets them to shut up then fine, but Touya will never spend a second longer with them when he’s finished using them. He doesn’t give a fuck if they whine about not cumming, he never promised them an orgasm when he gives the whores his cock.

He obsesses over you, not them; he cares for you, not them; he only wants you, not them.

Stop being jealous, it's just you!

Keigo finally talks him down but they realize that you’re not around.

Touya searches the outside perimeter of the house while Keigo searches inside. You’re rolling, barely able to take care of yourself and they have no idea where you are. All the worst case scenarios run through his head like you wandering into the night and getting kidnapped, hit by a car while walking down the road, he wonders if you’re still at the house and possibly getting raped because you can’t fight back if someone forces themselves on you. He drives himself crazy with his own imagination and you won’t answer your fucking phone!

To his relief Keigo informs him that he found you locked inside one of the bedrooms, having mixed cocaine, ecstasy, and alcohol because you were upset about what happened. He’s a veteran, Touya’s mixed plenty of times within his boundaries of tolerance but you’ve never done it before so he worries instantly for your wellbeing. The only thing that he can think of what to do to help you is to bring you a fresh bottle of water, you’re probably dehydrated as hell.

He feels awkward as hell when he arrives to the room, standing off to the side as Keigo fusses over you. He’s able to comfort you with the right words in your state of mind, adding in kisses and sweet caresses to your body to help calm you, something that Touya feels unable to do at the moment. But Keigo fixes you up and nods for him to approach you, a little hurt that you whine for Keigo to stay.

But he has to admit his mistake, that he should have been more attentive to you when he brought you with him, even if he trusted Keigo to look over you the entire time. You’re upset, of course you’re upset with him, and he doesn’t want you to be mad at him anymore. So he decides to give you a right he should have bestowed to you a long time ago, you’re not allowed to call him Dabi anymore. It’s the only way he knows to make it up to you and show you that you’re important to him.

Don’t be mad at me anymore babydoll, I’m yours.

You’re a stubborn little thing at first, still insisting on calling him Dabi but he made you come around. His name falling from your lips just sounds so perfect, it sounds right as you choke up on pleasure and come undone with a scream of his name.

Touya imagines that night you went behind his back because you were mad at him, freezing for just a quick moment that you would do the same thing the next time you became angry with him, except now he had given you full permission. You hadn’t taken advantage of the arrangement and didn’t seek anyone out so far, he’s thankful for that, but he has to lock down Keigo into the relationship so that he can secure you.

Touya literally walked out of the house earlier to find you and Keigo making out, surely you can’t believe you can do that on ecstasy and still believe that everything is platonic. He has to put the truth out there, you deserve to know it, no one else would treat you so good like they would.

“He thinks you’re adorable. I talk about your pussy all the time with him. How fucking cute it is, how tight it gets when you get choked, and when you cum all over yourself. He wants to fuck you open so bad.”

“Touya, don’t say that! He’s just a friend!”

“A friend who wants to fuck you.”

He probably could have been more eloquent with his words but he gets his point across to you regardless.

“I gave you permission to fuck who you want doll, Keigo is not the worst person you could choose. In fact, I’d like it if he were the one to keep you warm for me.”

And he can see how realization hits you, Keigo further supporting the claim by coming onto you as well. What you used to perceive his actions as friendly, you thought otherwise now. It’s a truth that you can’t unlearn now that he’s put it out there, but he hopes that you fucking take the bait. If you reject Keigo coming into the relationship, he truly won’t be able to handle the possibility of you seeking someone else out.

He’d fucking go crazy.

That is not an exaggeration.

Everything goes smoothly though, you returning hand in hand with Keigo with that cute, embarrassed look on your face when you asked where the ‘proper threesome’ should take place. He doesn’t know what Keigo said to you or what you said to him in order to reach the desired conclusion but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter because he got what he wanted.

You’re right where Touya wants you.

It feels good to know that when he’s out, Keigo is there to be with you in his place.

Everything feels perfect when he’s with you, he won’t lose you to anyone, you’re so fucking good for him, so fucking loyal to him and Keigo that even when you have your own doubts, you fall in line with what he wants anyway. He knows what’s best for you, what you need and what you don’t need. You don’t have to worry about anything because you’re watched over and cared for. He cares for you all the time like when you’re drunk, high, rolling, cross faded, sick, depressed, and everything in between.

But admittedly there are moments when his own anxiety gets the best of him, sometimes Touya looks at you and suddenly wants to run to the hills. He pops a few oxys to try to calm him down sometimes but they’re not always effective. When the pills don’t help, he hopes one of the whores hits him up to ask for a pill or a baggy and he can pretend that he’s living his old life before you came along because that’s what he’s most familiar with. He thinks you’re too good to be true at times and he follows the instinct to self sabotage by still returning to the whores. And every single time without fail when he returns to you, he feels his chest constrict as soon as you’re in his sights.

It’s no secret to you when he goes out to see them, he comes back smelling like artificial fruit or sweet candy, and he sees how you bristle when he tries to come near you. You’re angry at him but choose to remain silent because it’s an argument that’s long exhausted, he feels guilty that he still can’t commit himself to you fully but swears that one day it will happen. One day he’ll defeat that monster inside him that tempts him to ruin everything he’s built with you. But until then, Touya wants to make it up to you every single time. Food and drinks are an easy way to placate you but his favorite is when you agree to house roll with him because no matter what you end up gravitating to him during the roll and lean on him during your come down.

Sensual make outs while on ecstasy when you’ve reached the peak and then comfortable silence during the come down as you wallow together in a brief period of depression, it’s when he feels the closest to you.

And you don’t know this because he hasn’t been ready to say anything, but he’s already told you that he loves you.

The first time he says it, it’s past the six month mark of the relationship and just a little after Keigo is inducted into it as well. Nothing special in particular had happened to make him say it, you went to bed early because you stayed up way too late the night before and you just needed the extra hours of rest. He smoked a joint to relax, hopped in the shower to clean up, and he tip toed quietly in the room to make sure he didn’t disturb you. You barely flinched as he turned on the light in the room, unaware at how much Touya stared down at you as you slept. He took in your features and marvels at how peaceful you look when you’re asleep.

“I love you.” he says for the first time to you out loud.

You shift a little and emit a quiet, nondescript sound and he panics briefly that you might have heard him. Relief floods through him as you simply mumble and nuzzle the pillow, continuing to rest and none the wiser to the confession that Touya spoke into the air. But a weight is off his shoulders as he climbs into bed with you and is ready to sleep alongside you.

So he tells you he loves you when he knows you can’t hear him like when you’re deep in slumber, when you have your headphones on and just blast your music, or just right when you walk out the door after kissing him goodbye. He’s brave enough in those moments to say it but not brave enough to actually tell you just yet.

There’s one night where he thought you were going to say it first, and if that was the case then Touya would happily reciprocate it back.

You were hanging onto him for dear life as Touya rammed his cock into you, your hands clutching his shoulders and the back of your head digging into the mattress with your back arched off the bed. Touya had been mean to you all night by edging you, pulling out just as you’re about ready to burst and relishes in your desperate cries. You promise him you’ll do anything he wants but please please please, don’t just leave you like this. It’s only when you’re at your most desperate that Touya decided to give you the orgasm he’d been denying you.

“Such a desperate fucking whore. Were you thinking about my cock the entire day you were out?” Touya growled into your neck before nipping down on a sensitive spot as he jackhammers his dick into your pussy. “You were fucking drenched in your panties when you walked through that door. You love my dick so much that you think about it all the time huh?”

Your hands clutch onto his shoulders and Touya’s hips move to fuck you until you pass out from cumming so hard. You’ve been fucked stupid plenty of times and you just blearily look up at him as he utterly uses you to his satisfaction. There are plentiful memories of when you’ve told him you loved his dick in the frenzy of the moment, nothing but praises for his cock and how good he rams it in and out of you. It’s so fucking cute when you’re dick drunk and you slur out all your words. But Touya swears that you say it a little bit differently, straining his ears to make sure he heard you right. His hips don’t falter in their pace but he wants to know that he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

“I love… it…. cock… I love… yo…” shaky breaths leave your lips, shuddering gasps as your whole body trembles at what is sure to be an earth shattering orgasm. “S’fucking good… love ih… Love… yo— ahhh!”

Your whole body tenses and your back arches off the bed as high as your body allows, toes curling as you cum all over Touya’s cock and he cums alongside you. But even in the wreckage of your orgasm, you’re still choking out those breathless words that he was straining to comprehend just a few seconds ago. He wanted you to enunciate more, he should have slapped your cheek and made you speak clearly otherwise he would edge you again but the idea comes much too late now that you’re a boneless, brain fucked mess beneath him with his cum leaking out of you.

He fucked you too good, you’re asleep within seconds after Touya pulls out of your pussy and he’s a little disappointed that he couldn’t draw those words out of you.

Turquoise blue eyes look down at you, so vulnerable and pretty right before him. You look perfect and so comfortable in his bed that for a few seconds he’s inconceivably happy. You’re completely unaware of the power you have over him, how easily you could kill him without even trying. He’ll break if you leave him and he’ll break you if you try to leave him.

Don’t leave me.

You stay curled up in the bed and snuggled into his pillow even though you have your own on your side of the bed. A few minutes have passed and Touya thinks it’s safe to say it again, confess his heart into the silence of the room and while you’re unconscious to avoid being vulnerable; he’s just not ready yet. It would make his life so much easier if you said it first out loud but he also thinks that it would make you really happy if he were to say it first.

He knows you’ll be happy once the words are put out there, whether he says it first or you do.

Until then, he says it quietly and in the safety of his room while you rest peacefully.

“I love you.”

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I am posting at not my normal time at ALL, but I really wanted to get this chapter out so I can work on my favorite chapter so far lol (month five is boutta be LIT) if the tags aren’t working i’ll fix them tomorrow they are acting weird rn. 

Thx, for the patience. Love y'all

extra chapter warning: sexual harassment, nsfw..ish

HnM 💕

Month 1, Month 2, Month 4

--MONTH 3--

It was a Friday night about two months ago when Katsuki Bakugou had found himself on the second floor of Club 52—or “the booty room”—as it’s so brusquely known.

But he sure as hell didn’t fucking belong here-- Surrounded by drunken idiots when he had to stay alert and keep his mind sharp-- groped on by inebriated/drugged up women who he would simply growl at in return-- drenched in the germy sweat of the fucking extras around him when he could be at home in his clean bed thinking about how to improve himself tomorrow.

Honestly. How in the flying fuck did he let those three walking hairstyles talk him into coming to this shit show?

The driving beat of the music dancing within his chest was his only saving grace, its constant booming throwing him into a state of familiar comfort as he watched the colorful lights burst around him. He had to admit… they were nice…

No!

Fuck that! He still didn’t belong here, dammit! His roommates, Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest, had all three nagged, and nagged, and nagged him to come here the entire week.

At their begging, Bakugou quite frankly wished that he had lost even more of his hearing than he already had from his quirk. Maybe he could find one of his old drumsticks and jam it into his head—or up those idiots’ asses, “Ahh! I’LL GO! JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” It was the only way to keep him from losing his job as a hero and committing a triple homicide. 

So yeah, that’s how he ended up in the booty room—and he wasn’t gonna gratify those damn idiots for even a second by enjoying just an ounce of the hellscape.  

“You’re not drinking, huh?”

A sudden inquiry snapped the man out of his thoughts, and he found himself whipping his head around to face the feminine voice that had cut through the loud room. As soon as his eyes encountered yours, Bakugou felt his jaw drop slightly at the sight.

But then he quickly noticed the way that your eyes flickered down to his mouth, and the mocking way that your lips began curving up into a smirk at his display. He wanted to kiss knock that smug look clean off your pretty face. He immediately clenched his jaw back shut and hardened his traitor of an expression so that no more slip-ups could be had.

The two of you sized each other up for a moment before you slickly glanced over your shoulder with a nod, “So I am guessing those belong to you, then?” you motioned toward Mayonnaise, Ketchup and Mustard—all three of Bakugou’s roommate idiots making a theatrical, display in the middle of the dance floor.

Kirishima—who had long taken his shirt off by this point-- noticed Bakugou’s disapproving gaze and attempted a wave back, only to lean into a drunken stumble.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, snapping his regard from the (flat out embarrassing) show “I’m not anyone’s damn babysitter. They’re grown men. They can fucking handle themselves!”

“Good… I’d like to have you to myself for a while,” you turned to the bar-tending counter and beckoned for two drinks.

Bakugou eyed how the man behind the counter ingested you. He was a lion looking for his prey’s weakness and you didn’t even seem to notice—or care. He glared at the man, subconsciously taking a step toward you to speak as the bartender handed you your drink, “For what?” Bakugou asked you flatly. He didn’t even know why the hell he was entertaining this.

You simply shrugged, throwing your eyes up as innocently as you could with the contrarily wicked smirk that befell your face, “To… talk.”

“Yeah right. You’ve got some freak look in your eye. You want something else.”

“Well, hell yeah! Have you seen yourself?” you laughed and Bakugou couldn’t tell whether the stutter in his chest was from your utter bluntness, or from the melody of your happiness, “Anyway, I wont waste your time—or mine. Come find me if you want to…” you trailed off as you handed him the second drink in your hands. You had to bite your lip from smiling too hard, “…Talk. Ba-Bye~.”

As soon as you were the short ear distance away and faded into the dense crowd, the bartender gave a low whistle, “She was fucking fit as hell. God, the things I would do to her!” Bakugou felt his face twitch suddenly as the man continued his rant, “She’d never be able to walk that pretty little walk ever again. Yo, let’s hope she’ll still be here by the time I get off!” he chuckled but Bakugou didn’t see any thing fucking funny about what the bastard said. He might live in what is effectively a hero’s version of a frat house, but still, he never understood “locker room talk.”

Bakugou angrily downed the entire drink in his tight grip in one long pull before slamming it back onto the counter forcefully. His red eyes burned holes through the bartender’s fearful ones—the cup breaking apart under his palm, “She won’t be. Keep your dirty eyes off her, you bastard,” Bakugou didn’t even allow the man an opportunity to rebuttal as he stormed away, his fiery glare set intently on one thing only—or one person only…

That night Bakugou watched intently as the ceiling above him teetered and danced for a moment—sinking into the deep feeling of numbness that his intoxicated mind had succumbed to after about his fourth drink. He wasn’t exactly used to this feeling—this caving in on himself and sense of absolute relaxation as he melted into his bed.

Sinking.

              ...Sinking.

Wait, was his bed really sinking? His eyebrows furrowed into a state of confusion before he heard a sigh coming from next to him. Things finally clicked into place in his slowed mind.

Oh yeah. That’s right…

He would never get used to having someone else in his bed, probably.

Bakugou turned to where you were imprinting yourself down onto his mattress. You laughed at his stern expression, extending your arm to caress the side of his face, “God, your face is s’ intense like that. It gives me chills,” your thumb danced across the permanent furrow of his eyebrow. There had to be a magnet underneath his skin somewhere right about there that kept the brows in a constant state of attraction.

He snapped his face away from you as the magnet’s strength intensified and twisted his expression even deeper into anger, “Heh?” Goddamn, you were a fucking difficult girl to read for as blunt as you were.

You march up to him in the club like you own the damn place and send him heart eyes and flirtatious body signals, just to stone cold walk away like he never even existed? You proclaim that you want to fuck him, yet made him dance with you for almost an hour before you lead him out?? You let him fuck you in thirty different directions, just to call him out for looking “intense?!!” His friends (if you could fucking call them that) always said that he had an ugly mug, the jealous bastards, but why would a girl he slept with--

“You’re jus’ beautiful is all,” you faintly slurred, instantly hushing any of his thoughts and softening his expression, “People tell me all the time ‘You’re a pretty girl! You should smile more, but why th’ hell should I go around smilin’ for people who don’ deserve it? If they don’ like my resting state, then—”

“Then they can fuck themselves.”

“Yeah,” you looked up at him with a lazy smile. To a sober mind there was no doubt that your expression was an obviously drunken happiness, but to Bakugou’s in that moment—he couldn’t help but think that maybe there was something deeper behind that smile. You giggled, “They can fuck themselves,” you agreed more heartedly-- leaning into Bakugou and rolling him onto his back before snaking your way on top of him. You planted a trail of wet kisses up his neck and finished by making a small bite on his jaw “And maybe you can fuck me,”

Your warm breath on his sensitive neckline made him shiver underneath his skin, but he prayed that you couldn’t feel it. He scoffed to cover the pathetic display, “Again?”

You laughed before planting even more smiling kisses all over him—pressing your body even further into his with each one, “and again. and again. and again…”

“Pervert.” Bakugou tried to grab you by your hips to keep you from grinding into him even further—or at least that was what he intended to do; however, instead he ended up using them to guide your rhythm in rubbing against him.

You laughed again as you sat up on top of him and pressed your hands to his chest—your hips far from slowing down or stopping, “Maybe so, but can y’ really blame me? I have this guy in bed with me who isn’t even tryin’ to make me smile, but I have been fucking cheesin’ it up all night with ‘em.”

Bakugou didn’t even try to fight the growing smile on his face. It really was damn corny and pathetic--whatever this was between the two of you. But it felt so… so fucking right to him.

Still, he was going to tease you-- otherwise he wouldn't be him, “Well, I have this girl in bed with me who won’t stop smiling and it’s really fucking starting to creep me the hell out,” he suddenly flipped you onto the bed and mounted himself on top of you before placing his own assault of kisses on your body. His face only reemerging to take in your stupid, corny, beautiful smile for a long second. 

You were absolutely stunning in every respect of the word.

Yet--

Two months later, the same face that now stood in front of him on the platform of the train station was far from smiling—honestly neither was he. He was pissed the hell off. You didn’t even recognize him until just now?? Was he really so fucking immemorable?

You backed away from the man who had just saved you from falling to the tracks. You took him in one final time as the two of you sized each other up, “I don’t even know what to start…”

Bakugou’s face contorted in such anger that it could have been mistaken for disgust, “How about you start by giving me some fucking answers!” he screamed, causing your heart to drop and your stomach to lurch. The two organs effectively were trying to switch places.

Oh fuck. He knew?

“T-to what…?” You trailed off, but you had a feeling what he was going to say next. He was gonna chew you out about the damn parasite growing in your uterus, but you had no idea how he could have known about that! He shouldn't know that!

Deku didn’t tell... He didn’t! ...Did he?? Your heart raced and assaulted your rib-cage with an armada of thrums.

“Why did you sneak out that morning, huh!?” as soon as the words flew out of his mouth, you paused—your mind not quite able to comprehend his grievance, “I was just some sex toy for you? That it??” When he finished yelling and glared at you with expectancy burning within his red irises, you found yourself tilting your head a bit in astonishment and confusion.

Your heart had dropped, but you couldn't tell if it was from relief or repugnance. 

That? That was the question he needed answers to?

In the grand scheme of the fuckery on hand, his damaged ego was literally not your problem. You crossed your arms as you stretched your neck toward him, “Because it was supposed to be a club hump and dump! So yeah! We were just sex toys! That was kinda the whole fucking point!” Note the fucking emphasis on ‘supposed to be’! Ugh!

A tinge of underlying hurt quickly flashed across the blond’s stern face. You gave a short, sharp sigh in exasperation as you laid your forehead in one of your palms, “Look, I am not exactly here to cater to your wounded pride. Sorry that you caught feelings for me, but I wasn’t exactly obligated to fix you breakfast that day,” the tired, emotional remarks flew out much faster than you could filter them, but you still felt a twinge of remorse as soon as they hit the air.

The man in front of your face look completely stunned as if you just slapped him across the cheek with your words. It actually seemed pretty unnatural on his expression—like a rare, endangered species-- something not many have seen. Soon enough, however, as the dust of your words fell his expression settled back into a more natural state of fury, “You’re fucking right,” he grunted before turning to exit up the stairs of the subway, “I’m not obligated to listen to this horseshit either.”

Oh fuck. What have you done?

You knew that you had laid it on pretty thick, but the emotions you felt were just so damn overwhelming, “Kacchan… I…!” Why couldn’t you have said something different? Nicer maybe?

Whether you liked it or not, your lives were now tied together and this was not a good first impression—or uh-- second impression technically-- whatever! “I promise you’re gonna want to hear the end of this.” you called to his retreating form.

Bakugou’s face shriveled even further, stretching its extent of maximum disgust. Hearing that name come out of your mouth left his stomach feeling ill, “I promise you, I don’t give a fuck”

You slapped your arms at your side as you finally halted in your attempt to get him to stop walking away. Fuck it. You were about to completely call his bluff because you definitely weren’t about to chase him. You were much too tired and emotional for this shit! You just wanted to get home and sleep these random-ass, foreign emotions away, “I’m pregnant.” you simply exclaimed.

Bakugou froze.

In that moment, it was as if the entire world around him had iced over as he replayed your words in his head over and over again. He couldn't have heard you right, “What?” 

The man felt every fiber of his being stiffen. So much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to turn around and face you. In your silence was his answer loud and clear, “How… how the fuck do I know it’s mine?” he murmured, still unable to turn towards you—he didn’t want you to see the raw emotion that his face probably held in that moment.  

You barely even heard him, but the weight of his words was heavy enough to slam down on your ears and cause a burning reaction from you “What?!”

Your shriek finally prompted him to whip himself around, and you almost wish that he didn’t. The mangled mess of feelings transcribed on his face left his cheeks flushed a furious shade of red as he shouted at you,  “You like one-night stands so much—how do you know it’s mine?” With a horrified expression, you glanced around you for a moment to the other people in the subway, who immediately adverted their gazes.

“Hell, You’ve been hanging around that bastard, Deku. How do I know it’s not his?” You looked back to Bakugou with a choked ‘Wow!’ that could be interpreted as “Are you fucking kidding me right fucking now??” These strangers were getting one hell of a show, too.

You stormed up to him to keep him from shouting your all of your dirty laundry into the air, “Deku and I aren’t—” You stopped yourself. Would any fucking thing you said to this man make a difference? He didn’t know you from fucking Adam-- or from fucking Adam. You groaned in annoyance, “Look! I know that it’s yours because you're the only idiot I have slept with in months! An idiot who doesn’t know how to use a goddamn condom apparently!” you half whispered to him as your spectators began eyeing you again. You flipped them off as Bakugou continued,

“I’m the idiot?! Well if you could ACTUALLY FUCKING REMEMBER that night then you would know that we did use condoms the first three times! They ran out and you told me to keep going,” He screamed—by this point you’d given up hope of containing your melodrama as he continued loudly, “What idiot says that unless they are on birth control or something?!”

You throw your face in your hands with a shriek of a sigh before looking back up to his furious face “Here’s the deal,” you decided to completely ignore his comment, becoming tired of this theatrical display of emotions spewing from him,  “I can’t spontaneously conjure up some proof that this-- this thing is yours but I assure you it fucking is. But hey!! If you don’t want to stick around, I am not the type of person to make you. I can deal with this myself,” his face fell a bit as you swiftly turned yourself around to make your exit, but you didn’t make it far before you felt a heavy hand grab you by the wrist.

“Let’s say it is mine...,” Bakugou offered flatly, “You don’t think I can handle it” his daring tone left your mind whirling. This wast a fucking wrestling match or even one of his villain attacks! He continued, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna let my kid grow up without me. Give me your fucking number,” He easily snatched your phone from your front pocket with a slight protest coming from you, but ultimately, you really were tired as hell and just wanted this day to be over with al-fucking-ready. You sighed as he put his number in your phone—your mind briefly wandering why you didn’t put a password on the damn thing.

In a short instant, he shoved your device back to you and promptly turned on a heel. Only acknowledging you once more to tell you to “Stay off of the fucking train tracks,” before he stiffly marched away. Good riddance. 

You couldn’t even blame the spectators anymore. This was a mess. This was a downright, melodramatic, teen drama on CW disaster. This was… this was your life now.

Fuck…

“Oooh... no smiles today, huh?”

About a week later you found yourself walking up the stairs to a modern mansion with stupid windows for walls. A true sign of pretentiousness and obvious lack of shame. This house was a display for all to see... kinda like your argument with that Bakugou last week. 

You shook this thought out of your mind and put your ‘work cap’ back on. You were on your way to get some test shots in for the week with your new hair cut that the agency had forced on you recently.

Instead of throwing her a “What’s there to smile for?” like you wanted to, you threw her a “This better?” and forced a small smile at the girl, Dina, who had traveled along with you to get her test shots done today as well. Usually for these kinds of things, you would be alone as you traveled to the photographer’s house, but it was always nice to have someone come with you so you weren’t complaining—well-- not about her company at least.

There truly was nothing to smile for recently. You were pregnant with a raging, quirkcist asshole’s child, said asshole won’t answer any of your damn texts or calls that aren’t directly related to the prenatal appointment that you two have later today, Deku hasn’t been able to hang out with you as much because of his work, and as trivial as this may seem, you looked in the mirror today to saw a completely different person.

You were quite used to your agency drastically changing your hair, but that, along side the obvious rounding of your face and the speckles of hormone induced facial topography growing on your skin, led you to a slight identity crisis. The girl in the reflection was a sloppy second to who you used to be and you hated it-- you hated sharing this body.

“Trouble in paradise with Deku, Y/N?” her tone had a hint of worry in it as she rung on the doorbell to the modern house. You could only give her a slight shrug as the bell sung out,

“I’m fine. Really.” you lied. 

“Hello, hello!” The photographer’s voice loudly blared out before the door could even fully open to reveal him. He gave you a shocked glance, “What a pretty lady—pretty ladies!” he corrected as he stepped aside and invited you in with the swing of his arm. You rolled your eyes as he turned his back to walk through the house. He looked like the textbook definition of a douchebag. 

Fuck not judging a book by it’s cover. If it walks like a duck. Talks like a duck. Then it’s probably a misogynistic asshole who only got into photography to get away with his sick urge to take photos of unfamiliar women.

“Okay ladies, I just want to preface by saying that you can feel comfortable around me, alright? I think of all my models as a family,” Dina stiffened into a board as he came over and rested his hand on her hip. She forced her lips into a fine line that could resemble a smile as he firmly patted her, “This shouldn’t take too long-- only about five to six hours, ‘kay?”

Your face scrunched up, but you just wanted to get this day over with so you could go to that stupid appointment and wouldn’t have to deal with “Cockugou” for another few weeks. Throughout the next few hours, the photographer actually wasn’t too bad. He was for sure creepy, but you noticed that he wasn’t so bold with you as he had been with Dina earlier. Of course there were little off hand comments like, “You are doing sexy.” instead of “you are doing great.” And he would refer to both you and Dina as “baby” is a husky, drawn out tone—like he was moaning, but besides that he was actually being pretty calm.

Until he wasn’t.

“Okay! Now take your tops and bra off,” both you and Dina paused as the camera flashed once more. As the two of you threw each other a wary glance the photographer spoke up again, “Trust me, I have a vision. You’re gonna love it!”

“I- I just don’t feel comfortable with that,” Dinah spoke up feebly. She looked to you for support, so you nodded before she returned her gaze to him, “Do you think… maybe we could do something else?”

The photographer sighed and threw his nose into pinched fingers as if you all had offended him, “Look honey, you’re not that photogenic. I am having to bust my ass off not to capture that cellulite on the back of your thighs, so when I tell you to do something, it’s for a reason.”

You glanced over to Dina with a horrified expression. You noticed that her hands were clenched at her sides and shook ever so slightly after she subconsciously rubbed the back of her thighs-- you also noticed a prominent thigh gap in between the two tiny appendages. You shot your stern glare back over to the photographer.

He sighed again—this time even harder than before, “Take five!” he frustratedly pulled out a box of cigarettes and stormed over to his patio outside—the glass door slamming shut behind him.

You walked over to Dinah and hesitantly found your hands drifting toward her. You were never really good at cheering people up. Hell, you had to rely on alcohol to cheer you up for the vast majority of you adult (and a little bit of your pre-adult) life. Still, you took her shaking hands in your own. “Hey. Don’t listen to that asshole. If you’re not comfortable...”

“I have done nude shots before, but this just feels… wrong. Doesn’t it?” she refused to look you in the eyes as hers glazed over in a thick sheet of shame. She was right. Nude shots were nothing new at all. In fact, some of your best shots had been done in the nude—they had the potential to be true art, but this? This was wrong.

She shook her head,“But I just… I don’t want to be unprofessional.”

“We can walk out right now. I’ll call Ainu and tell her what’s up I am sure she’ll understand,” as soon as you began walking to gather up some of your belongings, her voice spoke up once more—this time much colder than before,

“Maybe for you. Y/N, you could get away with murder at our agency-- you know that, right? You’re the one who bought Ainu her ticket to the top-- her golden child,” she sneered. You threw your eyes toward her own—not quite comprehending if this was the same person still talking to you.

It was, but this Dina had tears growing in her eyes, “Not everyone can half-ass everything and not care…” her voice shook. The two of you just stared at each other as wild emotions filled your expressions and overflowed into the room to drown you.

The patio door clicking open snapped you out of your trance and Dina furiously began wiping her eyes clean as the photographer reemerged, “Alright pretty ladies! Who’s ready to get back into things?”

You sighed.

With a quick roll of your eyes you angrily threw your top off—not even giving the girl with you a second glance as she did the same and the two of you settled yourself into position. The atmosphere was certainly much heavier than it had been before, but the photographer obviously couldn’t read the room,

“Y/N might I say, that your tits looks wonderful! Have you gotten a job recently? I mean- they look huge!”

Okay. 

That. Was. It. You couldn’t fucking hold it back anymore, “Talk about my tits again and I’ll stab you in the neck with your own goddamn tripod,” you kept posing as if you totally hadn’t just threatened someone’s life, but the photographer fell away from his camera, shock painted on his expression. Slacking on the job. Huh, who’s the unprofessional one now?

“…S-sweetheart I—”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me!” you screamed, storming up to point a finger in his face. This surge of random emotion overwhelmed you. You had never felt this before—like you were gonna explode if you didn’t unleash it. And unleash it, you did, “The fuck is your problem?! You get some kick outta being a perverted asshole, asshole?!”

Dinah tried to come pull you back by the shoulders, “Y/N, maybe you should just calm dow—”

“No! Fuck this bastard!!” you smack her hands away as the photographer gets up and crossed his arms,

“This is so unprofessional. You women always jump to conclusions. Why cant you ever just take the compliment?”

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TAKE MY FOOT UP YOUR--”

And that’s how you ended up getting sent home two hours early. You had attempted to call Deku to rant about the harsh encounter, but he was at work. You supposed that saving lives a a little bit more important than “The Dramatic Tale of a Quirkless Model” or whatever fucking CW show your life had become. Your mind briefly fleeted to calling Bakugou, but he certainly wouldn’t answer anyway. No. Fuck that.

So you decided to text Deku and cry into your pillow instead,

You:

[2:49pm]

I mean he was just such a fucking dick!

I should have actually stuck my foot up his ass but he for sure would have liked it🙄

Seriously. I don’t mind nude photos

But there is a difference between art/photography and porn

Deku:

Right!!

Well I’m glad you stood up for yourself!

You:

No! Don’t tell me tht!😫

Deku:

I am upset tha you stood up for yourself…?

You:

UGHHH

I just wish tht I had just walked out

But the other girl wouldn’t leave and I couldn’t leaver her their

There*

God

Ainu is gonna 💀me for this

Deku:

How can I help you?

I’ll find what I can on the photographer?

You:

Talk Kacchan into not going to our clinical visit.👉👈

You knew that Deku really wanted to go, and honestly you would really prefer if he did. Regardless, Deku stood up for his childhood bully like the saint he was,

Deku:

Y/N! He’s the father. he deserves to go, don’t you think?

Also!

Don’t forget Baby Notes vol 1! I wrote some questions for you to ask!

You stifled a small laugh as you eyed that stupid goddamn notebook he left on your nightstand one of the few days he stopped by your home.

You:

Grr

I can’t handle Cockugou’s moodiness right now

And I-- Oop!

Speak of the devil. He’s here.

Talk later k?💕kith!

You snatched the notebook from your nightstand and marched to your front entrance. The knocking at your door was downright disrespectful—constantly switching between pounding knocks on your door and vigorous successions of the doorbell ringing.

“Fucking. Calm. Down!” you screamed out the door before answering, revealing Bakugou’s stern gaze,

“What the hell took you so long?” he huffed, causing your face to scrunch up into an expression that mirrored his own. 

“I had to walk to the damn door, you know! I’m quirkless? No teleportation quirk here!” He only clicked his tongue at your response. You noticed the way his eyes drifted down to the notebook in your hands before they narrowed into even tighter slits.

“Let’s just fucking go, already,” he took your wrist and led you out of the house before shutting your door. You could really just knock him the hell out. Okay, maybe you couldn't, but your weak ass might just be able to get one good hit in! He deserved it, not replying to any of your attempts to reach out to him past talking about the appointment,

“Why didn’t you answer my texts all week?”

“I was busy.” he simply said, not even bothering to look you in the eye. This was the last time he spoke up for a long while. In fact, you didn't even hear his voice again until later when the two of you sat in the small, shoebox of a room in the clinic with the prenatal physician,

“This is your first appointment, right?” the doctor, was extremely old looking and your mind phased into a grim question of ‘how the hell can someone so close to death know jack about birth?’

You tried your best to push these dark thoughts out of your head as you gave him a slight answer, “Yeah…” you laid back on the crinkly paper covered recliner and lift your shirt a bit for the examination. You looked down at the small, hardly noticeable bump in your lower abdomen and internally cringed. 

“This is the father?” you knew that it didn't really matter, and that he was probably just trying to make you comfortable and spark up some small talk, but you rally didn't wanna hear it out loud. 

You couldn't bring yourself to answer, but Bakugou loudly spoke up, filling the absence of your voice, “Why the hell else would I be here, old man?” he scoffed and twisted his face away from everyone. 

You raised an eyebrow at his rudeness, but from the vast stories that Deku had told you about him, you shouldn't have been surprised. But still, it was like seeing a mythical creature in real life-- a grumpy troll under a bridge, if you will. 

The doctor gave a loud laugh at Bakugou’s remark, causing both you and him to snap your surprised gazed to the elderly man, “You’d be surprised at the shit I have seen, son. Someone brought their neighbor for the entire 39 weeks once-- the husband came in only once or twice, I think.”

You couldn't help but to laugh at this. Your doctor’s voice had a much more youthful demeanor than he had originally led on, “Oh, they were definitely fucking behind the husbands back,” you smirked.

“So Mama Bakugou,” 

And just like that your smile was completely wiped off of your face, “This is your first child right?” the doctor asked. You felt Bakugou throw you a fleeting expectant look. You assumed that it was probably because he hadn't even thought to ask you this question. The two of you really didn't know each other. Matter of a fact, this doctor, with your list of medical history in his hand, probably knew a lot more than the father of this ‘it’ inside of you. 

“L/N actually,” you corrected, “and yes, it is.” with that, Bakugou’s glare drifted back off into unconcerned and uncaring territory as he found a sudden interest in the glass container of gloves on the counter. 

“Well you look about 10 weeks along. They’ll be about the size of a strawberry right now-- almost done with your first trimester.” he trailed off as he began coating your stomach with some sticky jelly substance. 

“What??” you could have sworn that you had only met Bakugou about two months ago right? So does that mean...

“The date of conception would have actually been a little closer to about 7 or 8 weeks ago. We just count by the first day of your last period. No need to get worried about the neighbor, I don’t think, Papa Bakugou,” he winked to the blond, who only gave a scoff in return. You let out a slight sigh of relief. 

The recipe for the rest of this appointment as the doctor searched your organs for your uterus in the ultrasound included him making small talk and Bakugou ignoring it with you giving slight answers here and there,

However, finally, something really caught both of your’s attention, “I think that you guys should take time today to find your primary care physician,”

“Why not you, idiot?” Bakugou spoke up and it shocked you. You were surprised he cared about this out of everything. 

“I am thinking that I should send you to someone with a specialty in a multiple pregnancy birth.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you and Bakugou shared a brief, terrified glance at one another, “What...?” Bakugou spat.

“You see these two circles? It looks like you’ve got two buns in the oven! Congrats on the twins!,” 

T...wins...?

The world bean fading into a blur for you as he continued, “Now You are a little past getting the neural tube check, but we can get you started in on some genetic testing and counseling’s. Every thing is looking alright, but we just want to…”

The world around you moved in a blurry, choppy chain of images as your mind tried its best to comprehend the knowledge it had been given. So... not only were you carrying one parasite... but two?

You couldn't bring yourself to listen the rest of the appointment, and you had a feeling that Bakugou wasn't picking up on much else after the shocking news either. 

If you thought that commute to the hospital was quiet, the walk back to your apartment was even more so.

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[keichanz]

Move Your Body || pt. 5

@akiza-hades-rose @mcornilliac @jennybean91 @xxracheyxx @inuyashaeienni @ajoy3fanfics @shadykit @myverysweetescape @feudalpriestess98 @eternalnight8806-3​ @lavendertwilight89​ @clearwillow​ @liz8080​ @pinkpigeonstudio​ 

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Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

After rounding the front end of his car, he opened the door for her and found her looking confused as she took his offered hand and let him help her out.

“Where are we?” she asked and he noticed she didn’t pull her hand away from his. He promptly took advantage of it and twined their fingers again.

He shut her car door and locked up before shrugging. “You said you were hungry, right? I could go for some chow myself. This is my favorite little hole in the wall and the owner’s like family. You’ll like it here, I promise.”

As he tugged her forward, Kagome’s eyes brightened and a smile lit her face. “I only said that as an excuse, you know,” she told him but didn’t protest as he ushered her inside a quaint little restaurant named simply Kaede’s.

Inuyasha only offered another shrug as he led her through a dimly lit dining room toward a bar counter with a row of bar stools. Immediately Kagome conceded to his presumptuous words; she did like it. The restaurant was small, cozy, and it smelled absolutely divine.

Kagome was smiling as Inuyasha pulled out a stool for her and helped her up before claiming the one beside her. She didn’t see a menu anywhere and there were no boards on the wall offering different dishes. She was about to ask her half-demon companion about the sort of food served here, but before she could, an elderly woman wearing an apron emerged from where Kagome assumed was the kitchen and instantly the first word that came to Kagome’s mind was warmth.

“Well, how nice of you to finally show up and grace this old woman with your presence,” she said by way of greeting but despite her words her smile was kind and grandmotherly with a hint of teasing. “Shame on you for making me worry, pup.”

Her to never ending surprise, Inuyasha actually smiled at the old woman and offered an apologetic shrug. “Trust me, it’s not by choice. Sesshomaru is trying to kill me with all these damn assignments and jobs he keeps pushing on me and I’ve recently taken on a side project of sorts. What, you think I’d intentionally stay away from the most beautiful, talented, wonderful woman who makes the best damn—”

“Oh, shut up, you, and introduce me to your attractive lady friend,” Kaede interrupted, shaking her head and Kagome had to giggle. She liked this lady.

Chuckling, Inuyasha put a hand on the small of Kagome’s back and did as he was bade. “Kaede, this is Kagome. I’m helping her out with a, uh, school project. Sorta. Kagome, this is Kaede. I’ve known her forever and she’s like a grandmother to me.”

Kaede beamed and shook Kagome’s hand. “I see,” she murmured. “It’s nice to meet you, dear. This pup has never brought a woman here before, you know. How interesting.”

Her kind eyes gleamed mischievously and she ignored Inuyasha’s growled, “Quit it, old woman.”

Blushing at the implication, having no idea how to even respond to that, Kagome nonetheless returned the smile while Inuyasha grumbled beside her.

“Nice to meet you too, Kaede. Um, I love your restaurant. It’s so cozy and personable and please tell me whatever it is I’m smelling is on the menu tonight.”

Laughing in delight, deciding she liked the pup’s choice in company, Kaede nodded happily. “I can definitely arrange that, my dear. What you smell is actually the most popular dish here, and your boy’s favorite. Two orders coming right up.”

Eyes wide and emitting an embarrassed little squeak, Kagome’s face turned five different shades of red as she fervently shook her head. “Oh, n-no, we aren’t—h-he’s not my—”

With a hearty chuckle, Kaede tipped her a wink, gave Inuyasha a knowing smile, and then retreated back to the kitchen while humming a jaunty little tune, innocent as you please.

Inuyasha didn’t buy it for a second and the scowl on his face said as much.  He knew what she was trying to do, knew exactly what she was plotting because she’d tried to do the same goddamn thing with her granddaughter. Thankfully, however, Kikyou had also caught on to what she was trying to do and had put a stop to it fairly quickly.

They’d tried the dating thing and it hadn’t worked out. While he would always love his Peach-Kiks, of course, she had found true love in her husband Suikotsu and Inuyasha was happy for her. Kaede, while over the moon for her granddaughter and having taking in her husband like her own grandson, never let her forget that she was old and wanted to see Kikyou with a family. And unfortunately, that same opinion extended over to him as well, since she saw him as another grandson.

She wanted great grandbabies, goddammit, before she withered away and died, if you please.

Shaking his head, though not without a fond smile, Inuyasha sighed and slanted a look toward Kagome. She was still blushing and looking at the counter, drawing patterns on the smooth wood while avoiding his gaze. Then she peeked over at him from under thick sooty lashes, noticed him staring, and released the most adorable fucking squeak before hastily darting her gaze away again, her blush darkening.

His heart twinged in his chest and he had to fight against the urge to brush her bangs away from her eyes to draw her gaze back to him. Fuck, but she was cute.

“Sorry about that,” he finally murmured and gave a helpless shrug. “She likes to meddle.”

He grinned, hoping to ease her discomfort a little and was gratified to see that it worked, Kagome’s shoulders losing some of their tension as she slowly relaxed. Though her face was still tinted pink, she offered him a shy smile and nodded, accepting his explanation.

“I like her,” she admitted after a minute, her smile widening a little as she dropped her gaze, but this time out of thoughtfulness and not embarrassment. “She reminds me of my grandpa. He likes to meddle, too, and would always scare away any boy that came sniffing around when I was a teen.”

She laughed softly and he relished in the sound, ears straining to hear more of it.

“Yeah?” he queried, genuinely curious as he propped an elbow on the counter and rested his head in his hand. “Where’s your family now?”

With a truly brilliant smile and bright eyes that enchanted him better than any spell ever could, Kagome happily told him all about her family back in Japan. She gushed about her closeness with her mom, her younger brother and his annoying penchant for pranking her, and her stubborn old grandfather who was as protective of her as any father could ever be.

Kagome was regaling him with fond stories she remembered when her father had still been alive when Kaede appeared with their orders, setting two steaming bowls of ramen before them followed by a beer for Inuyasha and a strawberry lemonade for Kagome. Then with a friendly smile toward the younger woman and a knowing wink toward her favorite customer, Kaede whisked away back into the kitchen to start cleaning up, her heart feeling light from the fact that her dear boy had finally found someone for him.

During their meal, Kagome persuaded Inuyasha to share a bit of his own history with her, and so the half-demon ended up telling her about his less than stellar relationship with Sesshomaru. Though they were much better off now than when they were younger – Kagome had been shocked to learn they’d outright hated each other at one point – they still argued and brawled at times, but it was never serious and more out of habit than anything. Inuyasha assured her they’d both matured greatly, and while they would never have a sibling relationship with zero hostility, Inuyasha was more or less happy with that they had and accepted they would never be close brothers.

It was easy to tell Kagome was upset for his benefit that his relationship with his half-brother wasn’t at all like the one she shared with her own. So, he did his best to distract her with questions about her own family, truly touched that she was upset to begin with. Thankfully it worked and soon she was all smiles again, laughing as she told him about the time she’d caught Souta with his first time girlfriend making out on the living room couch.

Soon enough, Inuyasha was paying the bill and unsurprisingly Kaede was refusing to accept his money, saying it was on the house and simply making shooing motions when he kept urging her to take it. He gave up after she threatened to have his next ten meals on the house as well. Despite his grumblings, he was patient as Kagome called back her farewells to the old shop owner waving from the counter with a big smile and wishing them a good night, calling his own fond adieu before ushering her out the door with a hand at her back. He was glad the two women got along so well and it gave him high hopes she’d act similarly with the younger Hidaka woman.

Tucking Kagome into the safety of his car, Inuyasha was quick to hop in beside her and merge back into traffic before anyone recognized him. He was grateful Kaede’s had been more or less empty and the few people who had been there were too absorbed in their meal and company to notice him.

Glancing at the clock on the dash, Inuyasha chewed his lip and thought there was still enough time to head to Jak’s. He’d be a half an hour late, but knew the designer wouldn’t mind, understanding that his schedule was fairly unpredictable and could change at any given time. He was probably caught up in one of his many orders anyway and wasn’t keeping track of the time as he often did.

Mind made up, Inuyasha flicked his signal on and eased over into the turning lane that merged onto the highway. Jak’s Boutique was a little further into the city, but it was an easy drive and thankfully they’d missed rush hour. Perhaps he should have asked Kagome first before taking her with him, but glancing over at her now, the way she relaxed into the plush seat and graced him with a trusting smile suggested that she didn’t mind.

“Alright,” Kagome said when his eyes met hers, smile still in place. “Now where are you taking me? I don’t suppose now would be a good time to scream out the window, ‘Help, I’m being kidnapped’ before opening the door and attempting a daring escape.”

Inuyasha was silent as he side-eyed her for a minute, the corner of his mouth flickering with the hint of a grin. Then a second later the unmistakable sound of the door locks shifting into place echoed in the cab.

Kagome promptly erupted into giggles and Inuyasha allowed a crooked smile to surface on his face.

As Kagome’s giggles finally died down, Inuyasha chuckled and finally admitted, “Just a quick errand, I promise. I hope you don’t mind.” She shook her head, confirming his suspicions, and he tacked on, “And besides, it’s basically for you anyway.”

Kagome blinked. “What? What do you mean it’s for me?”

He simply grinned and Kagome narrowed her eyes at him.

“Inuyasha...” she warned and when still all he did was shake his head, Kagome pouted and crossed her arms, however the twitching of her mouth belied her mock glare.

Chuckling, Inuyasha reached over to catch her hand and bring it to his mouth, pressing a brief kiss to her knuckles.

“You’ll see,” he promised her, noticing the way her cheeks flamed with color, but deigning not to comment as he kept his eyes on the road, an easy smile on his face.

Kagome huffed and mumbled something, wrinkling her nose as she stared out the window, before finally sighing and letting a smile curl her lips upward.

She didn’t pull her hand away and neither did he.

Approximately sixteen minutes later Inuyasha turned onto a quiet residential street just on the fringes of the city and cruised about a quarter of the way down before turning into a narrow driveway to a quaint blue ranch style house. Kagome was surprised when he kept going, but then it made sense when another building came into view behind the house, smaller and painted in the same color with a red neon sign in the window that read Jak’s Boutique.

Inuyasha parked in front of the small shop and cut the engine, gesturing for Kagome to exit before doing so himself. Puzzled but curious, Kagome followed suit and met him at the front of the car. He took her hand, tipped her a reassuring grin, and led her inside the shop.

“Jakotsu,” Inuyasha called out and let the door swing gently shut behind them.

“Sha?” a slightly muffled feminine voice answered from somewhere in the back of the shop.

“Yeah. Sorry I’m late. Lost track of time.”

“You’re always late,” the voice called out and ignoring Inuyasha’s half-hearted “I am not,” it continued, “Be out in a sec, darling, I’m almost finished with this order. Zippers are always a bitch to attach.”

The producer chuckled. “Take your time.”

Tossing him a bemused smile, to which Inuyasha returned with raised eyebrows and a shrug, Kagome rolled her eyes and took the opportunity to look around. It was obvious they were standing in some kind of clothing store, or perhaps even a tailor’s considering the amount of dresses and suits Kagome spotted. Behind the counter to the left were two rows of bagged garments waiting to be picked up, and the far wall consisted of an assortment of gorgeous looking evening gowns, tuxedos, and other formal wear.

Clothing racks, the kind you would see in a department store, dotted the floor and to the right the wall held bolts of fabric that seemed to be in every color, pattern, and texture imaginable. On the long table before it, sewing materials littered the surface; scissors, a sewing machine, scraps of fabric, thread, needles, and other items one would find in an average sewing kit.

“Inuyasha?” Kagome ventured, truly lost on the reason of them being here. “Why are we in a tailor’s shop?”

He tilted his head and glanced down at her, arching a brow with a slight grin. “I know you’re smarter than that, babydoll,” he teased her, squeezing her hand. “C’mon. Think about it. I find that jeans and t-shirts don’t really pair well with heels.”

Kagome stared at him for a second more before realization dawned and her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open with an incredulous gasp. “You conniving little prick, that’s why Sango asked for my measurements last week!”

Laughing outright as Kagome whacked him in the arm for going behind her back, Inuyasha caught her hand. He dragged her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her waist instead and resting his chin on her head.

“Damn, you’re violent,” he told her fondly, tightening his arms when she attempted to squirm her way free.

“Lemme go.”

“No. You’ll hit me again.”

“No I won’t.”

“Liar.”

“I would never.”

He snorted.

“Why are you buying me clothes, Inuyasha? You’re already doing so much for me, I don’t expect you too—”

“I know, babydoll,” Inuyasha interrupted her and leaned down so he could catch her gaze. “I want to, alright? I told you I was gonna help you, that means I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get your success, and success includes providing an outfit that I doubt you’ll find anywhere in your wardrobe. We want sexy confidence, remember, not prude librarian.”

Kagome flushed and stuck her tongue out at him.

He screwed his face up and crossed his eyes at her.

She snorted a laugh and slapped a hand over her mouth to smother the embarrassing sound just as an amused voice drawled out, “I have a room in the back that’s free, if you two would like to utilize it...?”

Inuyasha’s ears perked up and he looked hopeful. “Really? Oomph.”

Painted lips twitched and the shop owner couldn’t quite hold back the smile as he said, “If you’ll come with me, honey, I can get you fitted into your new clothes and see if it needs any alterations.”

“Violent,” Inuyasha repeated and rubbed his stomach where she elbowed him, watching as Kagome lifted her nose and strode away. He didn’t miss the pleased smile curling her lips, however, and he shook his head with a sigh, feeling the beginnings of his own grin tugging his mouth upward.

Sending him a look that clearly stated he would be dishing out the juicy details later, Jakotsu ushered Kagome to the back where the dressing rooms were, telling her to disrobe while he fetched her new outfit.

Rolling his eyes, Inuyasha grunted his assent and fished out his cell, figuring he’d pass the time scrolling social media while he waited. He kept his eyes on the screen, however his ears were trained toward the back, easily picking up Kagome’s shocked gasp when she finally got a good look at what she was wearing and Jak’s husky chuckle. He grinned, easily imaging how red her face was right about now.

It was a hell of a leather number, but it wasn’t anything too racy or indecent. He’d had Kagome in mind as he described what he wanted to the designer, and he was also positive Jakotsu was able to come up with something that suited his pretty dancer perfectly. His long time friend had been in the fashion industry for nearly twenty years now and his services were wildly coveted. Of course those services also weren’t free; Jak wasn’t afraid to charge what he thought was a fair price for his time and labor and his prices, while by no means cheap, were definitely fair. Jakotsu was talented as hell, he was fast, and the results were nothing short of stunning, and because of that he was pretty much booked twenty-four seven.

But because of his longtime friendship with the designer, Inuyasha was able to sneak in an order of his own. As always, Jak rose up to the task, always willing to help, and the producer was forever grateful to him. He always made sure to leave a generous tip for the designer, and although Jak never commented on it, Inuyasha suspected the gesture was very appreciated.

Inuyasha was just about to browse Kagome’s timeline on Facebook for the hell of it when he finally spotted the next notification at the top of the screen. Already suspecting who it might be, he brought up his messages with a flick of his finger.

you rang, my secret sex slave?

He snorted but grinned at the text, replying back.

vegas. this weekend. demo. yay or nay

Inuyasha hit send and idly tapped a claw against the screen as he waited for her reply. While her jackass husband was a different story altogether, he absolutely adored Kagura. She was like the favorite wine aunt that everybody knew and loved, only better because she was his sister-in-law and not his aunt. They got along famously because they had the same twisted sense of humor and it always made family gatherings so much more bearable.

Well, bearable for them. He was pretty sure for the rest of their family it was nothing short of obnoxious.

His phone buzzed and he wasn’t at all surprised to read her response, a puff of laughter escaping him.

FUCK YEAH BRO LETS LIGHT THIS BITCH UP, HOLLA see you soon, sexy 💋

Grinning, Inuyasha hurriedly sent her one last thing before ending the convo, bringing up the emojis and selecting the bikini, wine, and money emojis.

It was only seconds later he received a reply and he stood there snickering for a solid thirty seconds.

🖕🖕🖕

“Love you too, sis,” he chuckled under his breath, shaking his head.

Not so subtle throat clearing had him pocketing his phone and lifting his head. “How does it fit—...uh...”

Just a few feet away from him, standing not in the leather corset and skirt he’d commissioned, Kagome’s slim figure was wrapped up in a deep red lace number that stole the very breath from his lungs and caused all coherent thought to flee his brain. The sleeves were wide and off the shoulder with a neckline that plunged just enough to show a teasing amount of cleavage. The skirt flowed and swayed around her legs at mid-calf and it looked to be asymmetrical, the back being slightly longer than the front. The waist was empire with black laces on either side and holy fuck did she look absolutely breathtaking in it.

Inuyasha didn’t know why she was wearing it and didn’t even care as he gawked at her, amber eyes greedily taking in the vision before him. In doing so he completely missed the dark flush on her face accompanied by the pleased but shy smile at his encouraging reaction.

“Ah,” Kagome said, biting down on her lip when burnished amber flew up to meet starling blue. Her smile widened a bit and she fidgeted, shifting her weight in the borrowed heels on her feet.

“Do I...look okay?” she timidly ventured, twisting her hands nervously in front of her. “Um, J-Jakotsu said I can have it...I guess the sale fell through or something?”

When all Inuyasha continued to do was stare, Kagome’s blush deepened and she ducked her head, wondering if perhaps she’d made a mistake in letting the designer talk her into trying it on.

“I’m sorry, I...guess I should have asked—”

“You’re beautiful,” Inuyasha blurted when he finally found his voice again. It was rough and he cleared his throat, sucking in a breath as he stared directly into her eyes, easily detecting the cautious hope in the churning blue waves of her gaze.

“R-really?” she asked a little breathlessly but then it faded just as quickly and she sighed quietly, staring down at the toes of her borrowed pumps. “But you’re probably just saying that, right? I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” Inuyasha was quick to cut her off, vehemently shaking his head. Kagome lifted her head to meet his gaze again and he let out a heavy breath, his eyes lowered to half-mast. Deliberately he swept his gaze down her figure, taking in every last minute detail before slowly raking his eyes back up to meet her own once more.

“I mean it, Kagome,” he rumbled. “You look...amazing. You’re amazing.”

She must have seen the sincerity in his eyes, heard it in his voice because she finally relaxed and beamed at him, giving a short little spin for him as a light, delighted laugh floated to his ears.

Aaaaand there goes his breath again. Fuck.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Inuyasha managed to tear his gaze away from her long enough to glance at the very smug looking designer standing behind her with his arms crossed.

“How much?” he asked because fuck it if he was leaving without that lace masterpiece.

Jakotsu smirked. “For you, darling, free of charge.”

At the producer’s frown, he shrugged and turned his gaze back to the young woman, his face softening into a fond smile. “Really. Call it a gift. The woman who commissioned it wasn’t able to pay up, and so it’s just been sitting on a mannequin in the back room, collecting dust. Honeybee here fell in love with it when she first spotted it.”

A guilty flush colored Kagome’s cheeks and she shrugged helplessly.

“It’s just dumb luck, don’t you think,” Jak said, sounding way too casual, “that it just so happens to be exactly her size?”

With that, the fashion designer tipped the half-demon a wink and strolled back from whence he came, beckoning his “Honeybee” with a crook of his finger. “This way, honey, and I’ll bag that up for you as well.”

With a radiant smile and one last glance toward him, Kagome nodded and followed after him, her borrowed heels clicking against the hardwood.

Once they were both out of sight, Inuyasha groaned and blindly reached out, catching himself on the counter to his left as he slumped against it with a hand over his heart. He dragged his free hand down his face and then thrust his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes and trying to grow some goddamn balls, for fuck’s sake.

Inuyasha was more or less composed when Jak returned a few minutes later with a knowing smirk on his face, both outfits bagged and draped over his arm. The half-demon leveled him with a look that quelled any smartass comments the designer had brewing. Clicking his tongue, Jak nonetheless remained quiet as he went behind the counter and rang him up for the leather outfit that was the purpose for this visit.

“How’d you do it?” Inuyasha murmured, fishing out his wallet and handing over his credit card.

“Do what?” his friend asked, his tone light, innocent. Inuyasha didn’t buy it for a minute.

“Don’t give me that,” he growled, scowling but it lacked any vehemence. “I can see why she’d fall in love with the dress, but how’d you talk her into coming out here and showing me? Kagome’s shy as hell. I’m surprised she hasn’t said anything about the leather yet.”

Jakotsu clicked his tongue and inserted the chip end of the card into the card reader. “I didn’t.”

Inuyasha frowned. “What?”

The tailor paused and dark eyes flitted up to meet his own. A delicate brow arched up into carefully styled bangs and the corners of his lips hinted at a smile.

“I didn’t talk her into it. She wanted to show you herself.”

It was just closing in on 9 pm when Inuyasha pulled into the parking lot of Kagome’s apartment building and he was relieved to discover that it was one of the newer buildings with updated security. However, paranoid asshole that he was, he was still going to worry about her after he left no matter how new and fancy the alarm systems were. It was always dangerous for a young woman to be living alone, but he supposed short of staying here all night to watch over her, there wasn’t much Inuyasha could do so he dealt with it was best as he could and forced it from his mind.

Cutting the engine, he hopped out and rushed over to the passenger side. Before Kagome could protest, he reached in and stole both garment bags from her. She tossed him a grateful smile and threw her messenger bag over her shoulder before stepping out, allowing Inuyasha to shut the door for her as she dug around in her bag for her keys.

Neither spoke as Kagome led him up the staircase to the second floor and about halfway down the walkway before stopping in front of apartment 23D. Discreetly Inuyasha took in the scents as Kagome went about unlocking the door, gratified when he detected nothing that raised any red flags. He didn’t hear anything suspicious, saw nothing out of the ordinary, and finally conceded to himself it wasn’t a bad place to live.

“Um, would you mind bringing them in, please?” Kagome asked him, looking hopefully over her shoulder. At his nod, she smiled and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“You can put them on the couch,” she told him as she stepped aside to let him pass, shutting the door behind him and flicking a light on. “I’ll take care of them later.”

Inuyasha grunted his acknowledgement and did as he was bade, stepping into the living room and carefully draping the bags over the back of the couch before stuffing his hands in his pockets and taking a look around. It was your standard apartment, nothing fancy; smallish kitchen to the left when you walked in, living room to the right, and a short hallway straight ahead where he assumed the bathroom and bedroom were.

It was tidy, smelled like her, and Inuyasha decided he liked it. “Nice place,” he commented, turning his gaze to her as she set her bag on the bar counter that separated the two rooms.

Kagome smiled and kicked off her shoes. “It’s not bad,” she conceded with a shrug and she wandered over to him. “It’s affordable and suits my purposes just fine.”

Inuyasha grinned. “I suppose it does,” he murmured and reached out to flick the bill of his hat she’d stolen from him. Whatever. Looked better on her, anyhow.

She giggled and took it off so she could hand it back, but then Inuyasha shook his head and pulled it back down onto her own again. She blinked in surprise, gazing up at him from under the bill of his cap.

“Nah,” he rumbled and gave it a playful tug. “Looks better on you, anyway.”

Kagome’s eyes widened slightly as a blush stole across her cheeks. It was impossible to mistake the delight that flitted across her face and curled her lips upward into a soft smile.

“Good,” she said and her smile turned teasing as she reached up to set the cap more comfortably on her head. “Because I didn’t wanna give it back. I like this hat.”

Inuyasha snorted. “Cheeky brat,” he said and darted his hands out to try and tickle her, but she danced away with a mischievous giggle.  He grinned and released a fond chuckle, shaking his head.

Confident he wasn’t going to try and tickle her again, Kagome edged closer and graced him with a brilliant smile. He was momentarily struck stupid and all he could do was stare and wonder how the fuck someone could be so damned beautiful and not know it.

“Thank you for today,” she said softly, the sincerity in her eyes and voice clear as day. Her blush was completely endearing as she continued, “You know, for...everything. Dinner, the clothes...um, K-Kouga.”

She ducked her head and her scent soured slightly as she recalled previous events. Inuyasha felt his mood momentarily darken as he also remembered that wolf creep who bothered her today.

He hoped to god the idiot had enough brains to stay away from her after boldly claiming that she was his, but he also wouldn’t put it past the shit for brains to try something again. Inuyasha could sense that he was the kind that couldn’t take a hint. Though he was glad she was going to be cautious by walking with her friends to and from class, he still didn’t like the thought of her being on the same campus as the fleabag. Especially when he was going to be about three hundred miles away and able to do absolutely fucking jack shit about it, and didn’t that darken his mood even more.

Biting back a growl, Inuyasha closed the scant distance between them and brushed his fingers across her cheek, prompting her to lift her head with a quiet gasp.

“You’re welcome,” he rumbled. “I wish like hell I could stick around to protect you ‘cause I know I’m gonna do nothing but worry while I’m away.”

Kagome blinked and her brow furrowed. “Are you going somewhere?”

Inuyasha sighed and grimaced before supplying, “I have a demo in Las Vegas this weekend that I can’t miss. My flight leaves early tomorrow morning and I won’t be back until Sunday night.”

He watched in dismay as Kagome’s face dropped in disappointment, though she tried to mask it with an understanding smile.

“Oh,” she whispered and well, hell. “That’s okay. I have clinical anyway, so...” She shrugged and looked away.

Yeah...no.

“C’mere,” he mumbled and tugged her against him, wrapping her up in his arms and briefly taking his hat off her head so he could bury his nose in her hair. Apparently giving up her front, Kagome’s arms slipped around his waist and he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. He felt guilty, which was ridiculous; he’d had this trip scheduled for over a month and he knew it was approaching.

Thing was, though, he felt like he was leaving Kagome behind and he absolutely hated it.

“Gonna miss me that much, huh?” he teased and felt her smile against his chest as she muttered for him to shut up. “I’d come back Saturday after it’s over if I could, but I have to attend a meeting Sunday morning and go over a bunch of boring shit that’ll probably put me to sleep.”

He was rewarded by her soft giggle. Gratified, Inuyasha pulled away and racked his fingers through her hair, quirking a grin. She returned it with a small but genuine smile

“Text me whenever you want,” he urged, sifting his fingers through her bangs and pushing them away from her eyes. “And on those really lonely nights, you can send a pic—”

“Ohmigod, shut up,” Kagome muttered and swatted his stomach, flushing darkly as he snickered and grinned unrepentantly.  She rolled her eyes and tried to cross her arms but he snagged he around the waist again and brought her in for another hug.

“Fine, no pictures,” he chuckled and felt more than heard her huff. A second later her arms slipped back around his waist and he grinned in triumph. “Try not to miss me too much, babydoll. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Kagome smiled and sighed. “Back atcha.” She inhaled, taking in his scent of his favorite cologne and something earthier, attempting to ingrain it into her brain.

No promises, he thought and almost said it out loud before he caught himself. Selfishly holding her for just a minute longer, taking in her intoxicating scent and committing it to memory, Inuyasha sighed and finally pulled away. Fuck, but he was pathetic. It’s not like he was leaving for a fucking month. It was three goddamn days, for fuck’s sake!

Clearing his throat, he tugged his hat back down onto her head and flicked the bill, staring into twin pools of endless blue.

“Stay safe, babydoll. You call me if you need anything, alright? I’ll do what I can. The studio’s open for you whenever. Sango has a spare key and I’ll tell her you’re free to use it before I leave.”

Kagome actually rolled her eyes at him and tipped him a grin. “I’ll be fine, Inuyasha. I’m a big girl. I’ve been taking care of myself long before you came along, remember.” She winked and poked his chest. “I’m sure I can manage three days without my loyal guard dog.”

The look he shot her suggested her comment was not appreciated and her giggle told him she well knew that.

“Smartass,” he muttered and was just about to turn around to leave, feeling oddly bereft, when a small hand tugging on his arm gave him pause and he glanced curiously down at her.

Kagome blushed and before he could ask if she was okay, she surged up and pressed her lips to his cheek. The urge to turn his head and claim her lips with his own came out of nowhere and he sucked in a sharp breath as his heart kick started in his chest.

“Safe travels,” Kagome whispered, leaning back down and offering him a timid smile. “Text me when you land? So I know you got there safely?”

Expression softening, Inuyasha couldn’t resist bringing her back in for one last hug and she went willingly, tucking herself against him with a sigh.

“Will do, babydoll,” he rumbled and kissed her forehead. “Stay safe. See you Monday?”

Kagome nodded. With one last grin aimed her way, Inuyasha turned and exited the apartment, closing the door and waiting until he heard the snick of the lock and the deadbolt sliding home before walking away. Strangely, as he descended the stairs and fought against the urge to look back, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d just left his heart back in that apartment.

i plan on compiling all of the text screenshots i created for this story into one post after the last chapter is posted. just for the fuck of it because i had a lot of fun making them haha.

[sevenstarsinning]

Summary: Raditz loses his mate when Planet Vegeta is destroyed and finds himself working alongside Prince Vegeta. When he comes to Earth to recruit his brother, he’s dealt another devastating blow when Goku refuses to join and leaves him near death. He’s found by a human and attempts to adapt to life on Earth.

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3

This took entirely too long to finish and get posted because of writer’s block but it’s finally done. The next chapter is going to be a little chaotic, much longer, and hopefully done next week.

Chapter 4

Light touches on your forearm jolted you awake. It was still dark out and the pod was only dimly lit by the moon.

You swatted at your arm to shove away whatever was crawling across your skin but it just came back, caressing your arm like it was trying to comfort you.

You scrambled for your phone and quickly turned on the flashlight to see a furry brown tail coiling around your wrist.

In the few days you had spent sleeping in the pod with Raditz, his tail touching you was a first.

It was gentle, searching and memorizing the surface of your skin.

You reached over with your other hand and ran the back of your fingers softly over the fur. It gave your wrist a little squeeze of encouragement to continue.

Raditz stirred and tried to get more comfortable in the cramped space while you stroked his tail. He began to purr when he found a spot that offered a little more comfort.

"Dude, you purr, too?" You whispered, more to his tail than him because he was out cold. It uncoiled from your wrist and laid across your thighs.

"You're so soft."

It wagged a little and brushed up against your arm.

Raditz sat up so fast it made you scream and the pod shake. His tail was outstretched and fluffed out before coiling back around his waist.

"Human, that is one of the worst sounds I have ever heard," he said, still groggy from the deep sleep he was ripped away from.

"It's involuntary. Give your tail back, it's much friendlier than you."

"That was you touching my tail?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and blinking to bring you into focus.

"Yeah, who else would it be?" You chalked it up to him just being very disoriented from the sudden jolt but the way he looked at you, like he was disappointed to see you next to him piqued your curiosity.

"No one. Don't touch my tail again." He laid back and stared at the roof of the pod.

"Fine… but I didn't touch it first," you sighed and laid back down.

"What do you mean?" He asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"I woke up to your tail brushing against my arm. Do you not have control of it?"

"Sometimes it reacts by itself. It's," he paused, searching for the right word to use, "instinctual."

"And the aversion to me touching it?"

"That's personal." He turned on his side to face you, keeping his tail at a safe distance.

"Fair enough."

You could feel him staring at you and it made falling back asleep impossible. You did the only logical thing you could think of and turned to face him. If awkward staring was what the big ass alien wanted, awkward staring was exactly what he would get.

"Twenty questions, big guy. You ask me a question, I ask you one and we keep going until we either hit twenty each or we pass the fuck out."

"Why do you talk so much?" He asked without hesitation.

"Goddamn, dude, you came out swinging," you laughed and adjusted your pillow to get more comfortable.

"I have anxiety out the ass around new people and rambling on and on is the way my brain thinks I should deal with it. Totally involuntary and very annoying," you paused and took a breath, willing yourself to leave it at that.

Learning more about the alien you tripped over in the field was an experience. His world was a lot different and, unfortunately, it was destroyed. Losing that much of your life had to be hard and he made it easy to sympathize with him.

You almost made it through the full 20 questions before your eyes got heavy and you fell asleep once more.

It took a few weeks but you and Raditz had finally fallen into a routine. That was amazing in itself but the fact that you were able to do it with half of a house was a miracle. With no help from insurance, you were on your own. Neither of you knew the first thing about rebuilding parts of a house and hiring a contractor was going to cost a fortune.

So, you did what any rational, struggling adult would do. You watched a ton of youtube videos about building a house.

"Why must these humans say this is easy while they use these primitive contraptions we don't have?" Raditz complained as he reached for another doughnut.

"No idea, big guy. Pass me a chocolate one," you said as you scrolled through recommended videos.

"I'm eating the chocolate." His voice was muffled by the doughnut you were craving. The one you went all the way to the bakery for.

He swallowed a big bite while he held the half eaten thick ring of doughy goodness. That didn't stop you from trying to swipe it from his hand. His tail immediately coiled around your arm to stop you. He brought the doughnut to his mouth and finished the rest in one bite while he looked directly at you.

"Proud of yourself, asshole?"

Before he could answer, you ran the tips of your fingers down his tail. His body tensed and he released your arm immediately.

You still had no idea what the deal was with the tail. He was vague on the details and didn't say why he didn't want you to touch it, so you refrained. At least until it wrapped around you in some way. That was almost becoming a nightly occurrence while you slept in the pod.

"Stop getting distracted and find another video," he chided.

"Stop distracting me and I will." You went back to scrolling through videos and his tail coiled around your arm again.

"Okay, seriously? What was I doing wrong this time?" You turned your head to see Raditz looking at his tail confused.

He pulled his tail back and wrapped it around his waist.

"Why does that keep happening?"

He looked away and remained silent, deep in thought.

Just when you were about to end the awkward silence, he spoke.

"Before my home planet was destroyed, I had a mate. She didn't survive the... " he cleared his throat before continuing, "she was the only one my tail reacted to like that. Anytime she was close it wrapped around her arm or her waist, sometimes her leg."

As you processed everything he was telling you, more questions arose that had your mind going in a million different directions. Did you remind Raditz of his mate? Or did he just miss her so much that any warm body close by was enough.

"What was her name?" You finally asked, opting for the easier question first.

"Maizie." He kept his gaze straight ahead, avoiding even the slightest eye contact with you.

"I'm sorry that happened," you offered, unsure how to comfort someone in his particular situation.

You brought your hand up to rub his back. The moment you made contact with the dark blue fabric of his shirt, his tail was on you. But for the first time, he didn't try to pull it away.

"Do you… “ you trailed off, biting your lip while you reconsidered your question.

“Do I what?” He asked, glancing in your direction.

“It's nothing."

His tail moved up to your face and rubbed against your cheek.

"I guess your tail likes me," you smiled and leaned into the soft, furry appendage.

"It does, but that's me controlling it this time," he admitted.

"Can I hug you?" You blurted. Silence fell over the pod and you wished like hell life had a rewind button.

Being touch starved was bad enough, but having someone like Raditz so close to you all the time made the need so much worse. You also got the impression he was just as touch starved, only his tail was more aware of it than him.

His continued silence had you seconds from laughing awkwardly like it was a joke. Then you felt his tail around your waist, nudging you closer.

"Is… uh- is that you or your tail?" Your gaze met his for clarification.

In the blink of an eye, he had you in his lap with his tail coiled around your waist. You were facing him, straddling his hips with your hands splayed across his well defined chest. Despite the way you were sitting, it didn't feel sexual. It just felt great to be close.

You cupped his face, gently rubbing his cheeks with the pads of your thumbs. "I'm sorry you lost her."

Raditz managed a slight smile. “You’re not so bad for a human.”

“You’re not so bad for an alien,” you said, running your hands down his chest. You leaned forward and rested your head on his shoulder, nuzzling against his neck. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

[ears-awake-eyes-opened]

Intoxication (Part 3)

(Hayffie 🔥. Sexual content. NSFW. As I reread Mockingjay, I’ve started again writing fics about what life might be like for them in 13. In this part, Haymitch and Effie set boundaries for sex — after they’ve already had it. I view Hayffie with a strong tendency towards enmeshment. They try to set boundaries in an effort to not get too close, not get hurt, and not hurt each other. When their relationship becomes sexual, I imagine certain boundaries are nearly impossible for them to keep up regardless of their motivations and intentions.)

Her mouth moved softly with his, like a slow dance after the band stops playing. “You’re bleeding...” She kissed him where her tooth had caught his lip.

“I’ll live.” The moment was surreal, like a dream he’d woken up from a hundred times with nothing beside him except empty sheets. Only this time he was awake with Effie.

Her body was warm but shaking. Or maybe the shaking was coming from him. He reached for the blanket at the foot of the bunk and pulled it over them. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked, holding her loosely, uncertain what would come next.

She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations. Her hips ached where he’d gripped them so hard. Tomorrow she’d have bruises there matching his fingerprints; she could tell that much. She was a bit sore inside. She’d seen him naked before — drunk naked, not fully aroused. She hadn’t anticipated him filling her so completely.

“Haymitch... we had sex.” It was all she could think to say. She was feeling some shock about it.

“Yeah. I noticed.” He chuckled. Static electricity on the pillow caught strands of her hair like a magnet. She was more wild than he’d expected. There was much more to her than she showed on the surface. Under the blanket he traced the path of her tattoo with his fingertips, following it by memory from below her breast to her sacrum and back again.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you like this?” she asked openly. The question itself was a confession.

He knew the answer. He’d always known. “Since you held up that paddle at that ridiculous picnic.”

“You spoke about running home, and you looked right at me as you said it. I’ve never forgotten the feeling. I thought I might have a spontaneous orgasm right then.”

“Flickerman would have had something to say about that. He loves an orgasmic audience.”

“My mother would have had something to say about that! Choice words for sure.” Effie laughed. “If she could see us here together, she’d lose her shit!”

Her laughter rang through him like chimes in the wind. His father used to make them out of scraps of metal. Even after he was dead, and time had rusted them all the way through, they always sounded like home.

Haymitch caressed her cheeks in the spots where the laughter crinkled her skin. “Such language coming from the pristine mouth of Euphemia Rosalind?”

“I’m not sure whether Mother would be most appalled right now by the unflattering wardrobe strewn about the floor, my conjugating with rebels, or your semen running down my thigh.”

“Conjugating. Is that what we’re doing?” Haymitch clasped her right hand with his and pulled their arms out from under the blanket. Their purple tattoos matched for ‘22:00–Bathing’. “It looks like Coin has scheduled you and me to shower together,” he teased.

“Sharing a military shower with a guard at the entrance does NOT sound romantic.”

“Are we being romantic now? I thought you just wanted this rough and impersonal.” He said it with their fingers still entwined.

She sighed. “I’m trying to be practical. I’m expecting you to pull away like you always have. Should I expect something different?”

“Hell, I don’t know, Effie. We’ve never done this before.”

He held her hand so tightly that her fingers turned pale. “How long have you been wanting ME like this?” She needed to know.

“Since that same day. ...How many years ago was it?”

“Fifteen.” She knew exactly.

It’s a long time to want somebody.

“If my parents hadn’t kept me from leaving the house that night to meet you, do you think this would have happened way back then?”

“If it did, it wouldn’t have been like this.”

“Define THIS?”

“You want an itemized list?”

“If we’re going to be doing this, I think we need some ground rules.”

“More rules?! Don’t you think Coin’s rule book for society and Plutarch’s play book for a revolution are enough to contend with?”

Effie glanced at the ink imprinted on their arms. He had a valid point, but... “What’s happening in this bed has nothing to do with Coin or Plutarch or society or a revolution. This is between us. We need to know where we stand, so we can draw a line and stay on this side of it.”

“You know, for someone who’s so free when she fucks, you’re goddamn controlling.”

“Haymitch, if we don’t control this, what’s going to happen?”

He thought of fire. The question was sobering. “Okay. Rule 1, I’m not going to fall asleep with you. Ever.”

“Why not?”

“My rule, my business.”

She could live with that. She didn’t like to be seen in the morning before she’d put herself together. “That’s fine.”

She surprised him by agreeing so readily.

“Rule 2,” she said, “When we do this again, you won’t be taking all my clothes off.”

“Why the fuck not!?”

“My rule, my business.”

He’d only just had a taste of nakedness with her. He was feeling it now, the sensuality of her skin against his. He’d been starving for it, and she already wanted to take it away. “Are you saying that to spite me for not wanting to fall asleep with you? Because I have legitimate reasons.”

“So do I. I told you I don’t usually do this naked. Not totally. The truth is I never do. ...except this time.”

He held her tighter, feeling the whole of her body while he had the chance. He didn’t want this rule, but he acquiesced, hoping he could change her mind. “Fine. Rule 3, no kissing during sex.”

“No kissing??”

“I’ve got no problem with before and after, but no kissing on the mouth when my dick is inside you. Kissing then, it’s just... it’s too personal.”

She heard a quiver in his voice. He was afraid of getting attached to her. He’d always been afraid of that. Over the years he’d conveyed his reasons, which were mostly logical. Despite them having sex, or maybe because of it, his fear was very present.

“I can work with that. Rule 4, this relationship can’t be exclusive.”

Every muscle in Haymitch’s body tensed. “Are you fucking somebody else here?”

“No. But as long as you’re reluctant about getting attached, then I can’t get too attached to you either. I’m not willing to find myself suddenly stuck in this alone.”

He didn’t want to think about her being with someone else. He’d never liked thinking about that. Now after being with her like this... No way. “Not here. I want a bottle all the time, Effie. Without liquor, how am I supposed to handle knowing you’re fucking some other guy? Once we’re out of 13, fine, but for now that’s off the table.”

Effie breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Then you won’t be having sex with anyone else here either?”

“Who else would I have sex with?!”

“I don’t know. ...Coin is pretty. If only she’d do something about that hair!”

“Coin?! Coin gets off on saying no. I’m surprised she doesn’t regulate the number of breaths we each get to take! Why would I want to screw her?”

“I just said she’s pretty. Moving on. Rule 5?”

He thought about how delicious it felt to have her hands in his hair and his forehead against her chest, stroking her, then trying to hold back and make it last. It was all so good. Too good. If they we’re going to be doing this again...

“Slow is dangerous. Rule 5, sex has to be quick.”

“Sex has to be slow enough to make me come, and I’ll agree.”

He moved his thumb back and forth across one of her nipples, feeling her respond to his caress. “I’ll make you come every time.”

“Is that Rule 6?”

“We don’t need a rule for that one. It’s just gonna happen.”

“We’ll see.” She rolled on top of him and gently bit the skin along the side of his neck. She was careful, tender, making up for cutting the hell out of his lip.

He wrapped her in his arms. The weight of her felt better than any blanket ever could. His eyelids were heavy, but the swelling of his dick was a more pressing need than sleep.

“What about birth control?” he asked, while he was still thinking clearly.

“Aren’t you asking that a little late?”

“Effie...”

“Relax. I had a shot in June. Sometimes those can last six months.”

“Sometimes? This world’s a shithole for a kid. Rule 6 has got to be not having any.”

“We’re covered for now, and we can find out what these cave dwellers do to prevent pregnancy.”

“The docs downstairs said an epidemic left a lot of these people infertile. If they have birth control in 13, then they probably keep it under lock and key.”

“Then we’ll just have to be resourceful! Let’s cross that bridge if we come to it. I don’t want to be pregnant any more than you do.”

Reassured, he moved his hands over her body, committing every texture of her to memory. The curves of her ass filled his palms and the most sensitive parts of her brushed against him without hurry.

“What’s happening now is still our first time, right? So the rules aren’t official yet?”

“Semantics. But you’re still naked, so yeah, sure. What are you thinking?”

“I want us to kiss while you’re inside me. Just once, Haymitch. ...Because I need to know.”

“Need to know what?”

“That intimacy.”

A siren sounded in his chest as she kissed his forehead, his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, then the divot above his lip as she nestled against him and enfolded the tip of his dick.

“After all these years,” she whispered, “Don’t you want to know too? Just one kiss, while you’re fucking me...”

Yes. Hell, yes. He thrust inside her, and she claimed his mouth. He threaded his fingers through her hair and held the back of her head when she might have pulled away. ‘Just one kiss’ was going to last as long as he needed to get her out of his system.

This time there was no roughness, no swearing, just fluid motion and murmured consent. He felt her weaving through him like the ribbons inked along her rib cage. Effie was in his system so deep, it occurred to him that he might never get her out. There was no detox for this.

She came twice before he spilled inside her. Their mouths were still dancing slow, long after the band stopped playing.

“Ohh.” Now I know.

“Damn...” I’m so fucked.

[iffeelscouldkill]

Adjusting [Part 4: Arkady]

A/N: Hey! In honour of us getting a confirmed release date for TSCOSI Season 2, here’s a fic update! (No I was not planning to post this anyway tonight, what are you talking about)

This one’s another long chapter, so strap in, folks! As always, a big THANK YOU to @dragonsthough101 for beta reading and for all the encouragement and enthusiasm! <3

CW: This fic contains a fairly brief description of a panic attack, from the POV of the character experiencing the panic attack. If you want to skip it, stop reading at the line “Everything is very still.” and skip to “They gravitate over to the kitchen table...”

---

The sound of gunfire echoes around purple-tinged sand and silver rocks, the alien landscape of a desert planet that sinks, spongy under RJ’s feet as they run for their life, head down to present less of a target. There’s a fiery pain in their right leg, running from the thigh right down to the shin, and though RJ clenches their jaw and forces themself onwards, it buckles, sending them crashing to one knee in the sand.

“RJ!” Sana shouts. She’s about thirty paces ahead, supporting a blood-soaked and half-conscious Arkady.

“I’m fine – go, get to the ship,” RJ calls, but Sana doesn’t budge. Cursing under their breath – and feeling a sudden kinship with Arkady every time she’d complained about Sana prioritising the crew’s safety above her own – RJ forces their leg to lock and pushes off from the soft sand, wobbling into a standing position. There’s another hail of bullets, closer this time, and RJ almost trips forward in their haste to move- and then stops.

Wait a minute.

“RJ!” Sana calls again, this time with a note of panic in her voice. She looks like she’s debating sprinting back across the distance between them to find out what’s wrong, but doesn’t want to abandon Arkady. 

RJ waves a hand at her, motioning her down. Arkady has roused enough to give Sana a confused look, but both of them sink down towards the sand.

In the echoey canyon that they just emerged from, it had sounded like the gunshots were coming from all sides. RJ had been baffled as to how so many shooters were still pursuing them, as they thought they’d managed to take out virtually all of them, but there hadn’t been time to figure it out. Now, out in the open, RJ can tell: there’s only one shooter.

“Kid,” Arkady hisses, her voice carrying just far enough to reach RJ in the quiet. “Get out of the goddamn open.”

RJ ignores her, scanning their surroundings. They’ve narrowed down a rough area that the shots are coming from: an outcrop of metallic rocks on a ledge about twenty metres up. The spot is almost completely shielded, but it’s also difficult to shoot from. The shooter can’t get a clear shot at them, which is why they were laying down so much fire: trying to confuse them, make them panic, and run into the path of a stray bullet.

It also means that RJ can’t get a clear shot either, unless…

RJ flails as if losing their footing on the sand, turns and crumples dramatically backwards. They hear Arkady swear, and Sana say, “Wait here- I’m going back-” 

From this vantage point they can see through a gap low in the rocks, and sure enough, there’s a dark shape beyond, sunlight glinting off the dull metal of an old-fashioned automatic rifle.

“Got you,” RJ mutters, and fires.

A muffled cry of pain can be heard across the distance, and RJ jumps to their feet in a shower of sand, adrenaline and triumph numbing the searing pain in their leg. They catch up to Arkady and Sana, who are frozen in the middle of getting to their feet.

“We can go now,” they say. A delighted smile spreads across Sana’s face, while Arkady looks torn between annoyance and grudging respect.

“Glad you made up your mind,” she snarks.

They make it back to the Iris without incident, where Violet is there to work the airlock as usual. She pales at the sight of them.

“Arkady- Sana- RJ! What happened? We couldn’t get you on your comms-”

“Yeah, sand’s a bitch,” pants Arkady, who seems to have rallied some more at the sight of her girlfriend. She pulls the useless, sand-encrusted comm link from her ear and tosses it with a flick of her hand at Violet, who just catches it. “That weird purple storm you saw? It jammed all of our devices.”

“You’re covered in blood-”

“I’m fine,” Arkady insists, though the fact that she can barely stand upright is undermining her argument quite a bit. “I’ve been worse.”

“Sana Tripathi to all crew,” Sana is saying over them. “Krejjh, we’re gonna need a quick getaway. RJ took out the last of our pursuers, but we think some of them might have gone for backup. We can’t afford to hang around.”

“Aye aye, Captain Tripathi.”

“Brian, Park, keep an eye out for anything on our tail.”

“Roger that.”

“Will do.”

Sana turns to RJ, Arkady and Violet, who are still clustered around the airlock. “Arkady, you’re going to accompany Violet to the medbay for urgent attention, and no arguments.” 

“For once, I wasn’t gonna,” says Arkady with a wince, her voice strained. Violet moves forward to take Arkady’s weight, and Arkady leans on her gratefully. The height difference makes it a little awkward, but Violet is also clearly stronger than she looks.

“Captain, I’m going to take a look at that shoulder as soon as Arkady’s been patched up,” Violet says in that gentle-but-firm way that no-one ever tries to argue with (except Arkady, but even she doesn’t try particularly hard).

Sana nods, hand going to the dried patch of blood on her shoulder. The bullet had only grazed her, but it hadn’t been pretty at all, and they’d had to improvise a bandage in a panic out of a scarf that Arkady had been using to keep the sand out of her face.

Violet turns a sharp gaze on RJ, who straightens reflexively, letting go of the safety rail they’d been leaning on. This proves to be a mistake as they put too much weight on their injured leg, and they can’t conceal the resulting flinch.

“What happened to your leg, RJ?” Violet asks. It’s mild, but there’s no-nonsense steel lurking under her tone.

“I’m uh, not really sure?” RJ admits. Their pant leg is caked in violet sand, ragged and torn; there’s no visible blood, but it could easily be concealed under the sand. “It’s uh, it’s kind of painful, but I don’t think I got shot. There were bullets ricocheting off the rocks, though, and some shrapnel might have hit-” They’re rolling up the leg of their pants as they speak, and then stop as the wound comes into view. ‘Some’ shrapnel is an understatement: RJ’s leg is peppered with tiny pieces of glittering metal, including one fairly large and pointy-looking piece sticking out of their lower thigh. Dried blood is streaked along the length of their leg. Sana sucks in a breath.

RJ laughs a little, nervously. “Um. Ow?”

Violet passes a hand over her face. “Okay. I’m gonna get those out of you as soon as possible, RJ. In the meantime, try to keep your weight off your leg – actually, that goes for after I’ve dressed the wounds, too. Luckily, none of it seems to have gone in too deep.”

“Arkady, you might have some too,” Sana says. “She and RJ managed to draw most of their fire-”

“Arkady more than me,” RJ puts in, as if it wasn’t already obvious from Arkady’s multiple injuries. “I guess I didn’t seem like that significant of a target.”

“-but it was kind of hard to tell what was a bullet and what was debris, with sand whipping up all around us.”

“Yeah, if I never see another sandstorm, it’ll be too soon,” Arkady mutters.

“Wonderful,” Violet says dryly. “Is it too much to hope that the sand might not contain any toxic or harmful substances?”

There’s a pause, as Sana, RJ and Arkady look at each other. None of them had thought of that possibility.

Violet sighs. “I’ll prep some equipment and try and get a sample to analyse from Arkady’s comm link.” She holds up the inert device. “I haven’t tried it out yet, but the medbay in this ship has some equipment that should be able to do the job.”

“You could probably get a good sample from our clothes, too,” says Sana. Violet nods.

“Sana, RJ, I want you to – carefully – change into some clean, loose-fitting clothes and then come to the medbay. Try not to touch your wounds directly.”

Both Sana and RJ give their assent to her instructions. It’s a little weird for RJ to see Sana, as the Captain, taking an order from someone else, but Sana acts like there’s nothing unusual about it at all. They’ve known some commanding officers – okay, a lot of commanding officers – in the Regime who acted like they would lose all their authority if they were seen deferring to a subordinate for anything, which led to a lot of bad and stupid judgement calls. They know now that the mark of a good leader is someone who’s willing to listen to the people under their command.

Violet turns back to Arkady, her face softening.

“C’mon, soldier,” she says quietly. RJ isn’t sure if this is a pet name or just a reference to ‘brave soldier’, but either way, it makes Arkady go pink. Sana looks impossibly fond of the two of them.

Arkady looks back at RJ, and RJ braces for some kind of threat about breathing a word about that to anyone else, but instead Arkady says, “Good shot earlier.”

For the first time ever, she doesn’t call RJ ‘kid’.

“Uh… thanks,” RJ barely manages in their surprise, but Arkady doesn’t even seem to hear it, already letting Violet help her down the corridor to the medbay.

---

The whole crew is a little on edge for the rest of the day (or what passes for ‘day’ when you’re hurtling through the black void of space). The excursion on Enlil was meant to be a simple pick-up and drop-off job, which was why Sana had thought it might be a good first outing for RJ to accompany them on while also providing some extra backup. But someone had tipped off the planet’s local security force – a sort of combined police force and militia – to their presence, and minutes after completing the trade, they’d found themselves fleeing from a dozen armed pursuers.

They got the payment, and more importantly got away safely (ish), but it’s a stark reminder just how little they can afford to let their guard down.

Dinner is a lively and extra-loud affair, all of the accumulated tension of the day (of the past two months, really) welling up and spilling over. For once, RJ doesn’t mind. They boost themselves up, gingerly, onto one of the bolted-down metal chairs decorated with Sana’s colourful homemade cushions, being careful not to jolt their leg, which has been expertly cleaned and bandaged by Violet. (The sand, to the best of Violet’s assessment, did not contain any toxic elements, but was still not great to have in an open wound for obvious reasons).

RJ watches Jeeter haphazardly throwing ingredients into a huge stock pot while Park looks on with a slightly pained expression. As Brian gets distracted by a compliment from Krejjh, he quickly claims the spoon, adding some spices from a small tin and a few other flavourings from little bottles in precise, measured amounts, before replacing the spoon just as Brian turns back around.

The noise and the activity is… familiar. Reassuring. It helps to drown out the images of purple and silver in RJ’s head, of sand whipping against rocks and gunshots echoing through a vast canyon, so vast it seemed like they’d never emerge from it. Of thinking about those few crucial seconds, out in the open, and what might have happened if they hadn’t made the shot.

(RJ always makes the shot. Every single time, in the Academy and afterwards, they had always made the shot. RJ believed then that they couldn’t afford to miss – for the sake of their reputation and their career, for the respect of the senior officers that they’d worked so relentlessly to earn.

But since becoming part of a crew and having more than just their own wellbeing riding on their steady hands and the aim of their gun – RJ has learned the real meaning of can’t afford to miss).

Sana passes out bowls of the stew that Brian has concocted, unknowingly aided by Park. It’s pretty good – the vegetables and meat are bland (RJ can’t even identify them, which is probably for the better) but the spices give it flavour and the tiniest kick. Park slides into the seat across from RJ; the crew officially don’t have designated seats in the kitchen/dining area, but unofficially, they totally do, and Park’s chair is padded with two cushions: one on the seat, and one on the back.

RJ can’t say how it happened, but Park had always sat a little awkwardly on the unforgiving chairs, and there was a tentativeness to his movements whenever he shifted, like he was in pain and trying to hide it. Evidently they weren’t the only one who noticed, because a second cushion had mysteriously appeared on ‘Park’s’ chair one day, and that had been that.

“Dinner’s pretty good,” RJ tells Park, under the combined volume of Krejjh, Brian and Sana’s jokes and laughter. Arkady is there too, also propped up on multiple cushions, after she’d loudly and persistently refused to have dinner brought to her in the medbay. “I’m already sick of being stuck in there. I’m not helpless, Sana,” she’d snapped. Sana and Violet had exchanged a look over her head that spoke volumes.

She looks paler than usual, but she keeps up a determined level of snark and banter like she’s daring anyone to question her health.

“Tell that to the cook,” Park responds mildly to RJ’s compliment, picking up his spoon.

“I am,” RJ replies with a smirk. Park’s only response is the slightest raise of his eyebrow.

“I heard you got to do some sharpshooting, earlier,” he says instead, changing the subject. RJ brightens, realising that with everything that was going on after they got back to the ship, they’d never got a chance to tell Park what had happened on Enlil. Sana must have said something about it to him.

“Yeah, finally,” RJ says, and Park grins fleetingly. He knows RJ has been itching to help out with some of the (infrequent, always extremely cautious) drop-offs and supply runs, but Sana had been reluctant to take the risk.

“I know how capable you are, RJ,” she’d said gently the last time she turned them down, while RJ had done their best to hide their disappointment. “It’s not that I don’t trust your skills. But I don’t want to send anyone else out into the field unless it’s strictly necessary, and I’m sure that Arkady and I can handle this one. As soon as we get a drop-off where I think we’ll need more backup, I promise that I’ll bring you in.”

She’d sounded sincere, but RJ had been privately sure that the promise was just meant to pacify them. They’d been genuinely taken aback when less than a week later, Sana informed them that she wanted them to accompany her and Arkady on the next drop.

“We’ve never been to this planet before, and neither Arkady nor I are familiar with the terrain,” she’d explained at the crew meeting, handing RJ a topographical map of their destination while RJ quietly exploded with excitement. “By the looks of things, there’s a lot of open ground, but also some spots where we could be vulnerable to ambush. I think three pairs of eyes will be better than two.”

She’d been completely correct about that, although the planet’s intermittent sandstorms had not been in their intel. Either way, RJ doesn’t think that Sana and Arkady would have made it through in one piece without their help.

They should be pleased at that thought, to know that they were critical to the mission, but instead it makes them feel slightly sick.

Everyone lingers in the kitchen after the meal finishes, and soon enough Sana breaks out a bottle of engine room-brewed moonshine and cups are passed around. RJ prepares to decline, as usual, but to their surprise Violet passes them a cup of something else – it’s bright orange, slightly sparkly, and smells sweet.

“What’s this?” they ask.

Violet shows them the bottle, which is silver with an orange bolt of lightning down the side and shimmering writing in Chinese characters. “It’s an energy drink!” she says cheerfully. “I lived off it when I was in grad school. If you down it in one go it’ll give you a kick like you wouldn’t believe. We used to knock it back instead of shots sometimes – the buzz wears off quicker than alcohol, but you also get less of a hangover. I stashed some away in case we ever needed to pull an all-nighter or something.”

RJ looks doubtfully down at the drink and then glances at Park, who responds with a shrug and half a smile. His expression somehow conveys both, ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to,’ and ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

“I promise it’s completely safe,” Violet says, reassuringly. “Here, I’ll join you.” She pours herself out a small amount of the vibrant drink. “Cheers!”

She clinks her cup gently against RJ’s and then downs it in one go. After a moment’s hesitation, RJ follows suit. There’s a burst of intense, teeth-rattling sweetness and then a fizzing sensation like something went up RJ’s nose. They shake their head rapidly. “I… wow,” they say. Everything seems very bright all of a sudden. Violet is laughing as she puts down her cup.

“Oh my god!” she exclaims. “I feel like I’m 22 again.”

“How do you feel?” Park asks RJ, nursing his own cup of moonshine.

“I feel…” says RJ, and then gets distracted by how the ‘l’ sound rolls off their tongue. “Feellll… I feelllll… great! Really really good.” They beam at Park, who looks a little uncertain, but smiles anyway.

“That’s… good. Well, cheers.”

---

Twenty minutes later, RJ is laughing hysterically at a joke that Krejjh just made – in Dwarnian.

“It’s the- it’s just- it’s the way they said lequezzek…” they wheeze, trying to explain the joke to Park, who is staring at them in some consternation. They wipe one eye. “Ah, you kinda had to be there.”

“I… was there,” Park tells RJ.

“Hey, your pronunciation is really coming along,” Brian says approvingly to RJ, who brightens and sits up straight.

“You really think so?”

“Heck, yeah!” Krejjh chimes in. “Hey, say ‘Dwajjhah Ferin’.”

“Dwajjhah Ferin,” RJ repeats, trying hard to get the ‘jjh’ sound right. Brian and Krejjh look at each other, and Krejjh grins.

“Excellent Dwarnian ‘jjh’ sound. For a human.”

RJ throws their arms up in the air, almost clocking Park on the ear. “I’ll take it!”

Not long after that, Sana notices Arkady struggling to keep her eyes open and, over her half-hearted protests, firmly instructs Violet to accompany her back to her room. “I’m going to turn in too,” she says. “Not that I wouldn’t love to stay up with you guys, but it’s been a pretty long day and I think the adrenaline crash is finally starting to hit me.”

Her eyes linger on RJ, who stares back, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “Don’t stay up too late, okay, guys? Get some rest,” she says.

“You got it, Captain,” says Brian as Krejjh salutes. “Hey, RJ – wanna come back to our room to watch the pre-season 17 finale of Sh’th Hremreh?”

“Yessss!” RJ cheers, jumping up.

“You’re welcome to join us, too,” Brian says to Park.

“I… thanks, but I think I’d be a bit lost,” Park declines politely. “McCabe-”

RJ, who is bouncing on the balls of their feet with impatience, looks over. “Hm?”

“Just be sure to drink plenty of water. I know Violet says that stuff gives you less of a hangover, but I think it’ll help.”

RJ rolls their eyes exaggeratedly. “Okay, Dad,” they groan, but they grab a bottle of water from the fridge before following Krejjh and Brian out. “Night, Park.”

“G’night.”

---

By the time the credits roll on Sh’th Hremreh, RJ has to admit that the effects of the energy drink Violet gave them have thoroughly worn off, and they’re feeling pretty beat. Krejjh has actually dozed off, and is snoring quietly against Brian’s shoulder.

“D’you wanna keep watching?” Brian asks quietly. “We should probably save the actual finale for when Krejjh is awake, but we can watch an episode of something else.”

RJ considers it, but reluctantly shakes their head. “Thanks, but… I think I do need to sleep,” they admit, stretching their arms up over their head.

“That’s fair. How’s your leg?”

“Uh…” RJ hasn’t really thought about their leg since dinner. The energy drink made every part of them feel fuzzy and light, so it hadn’t seemed like a concern. They hope they haven’t accidentally overdone things, although it’s not as if they’ve been running around the corridors. Well. They might have raced Krejjh to Brian and Krejjh’s room. It seemed like a fun idea at the time.

They stand up experimentally, testing how it holds their weight. It definitely throbs, but it’s a dull throbbing, and it doesn’t feel like it’s about to give way beneath them. “I probably should have stayed off it more like Violet said,” RJ admits. “But I think it’ll be better after some rest.”

Brian grins, an expression that RJ can just make out in the glow of the holo-screen. “Not really following medical advice is kind of a time-honoured tradition on this ship. It’s a miracle Violet hasn’t given up on all of us and left us to our own devices.”

RJ knows he’s joking, but the idea of Violet not being around to help in the aftermath of situations like the one they were in today is more than a little horrifying. “You guys didn’t even have a medic before she joined the crew, right? How did you manage?”

Brian shrugs in that easy way of his. “Arkady has a fair amount of field experience dealing with injuries, which I expect she picked up, uh… during the war,” he says. “Krejjh too, though obviously their knowledge is mostly applicable to Dwarnians. Sana and I know basic first aid, and Campbell – you met him when we made a stopover in Neuzo – has some skills and some contacts who don’t ask too many questions. We would sometimes go to him for help if we were in a bind, medically speaking.”

RJ nods slowly. It makes sense, although it also raises a number of other worrying questions. Namely, what if they’d been stuck out in the middle of the Deep or in hostile territory and weren’t able to get in contact with anyone? What if something really serious happened?

Brian correctly interprets their expression. “Mostly, it’s best not to think about it,” he says cheerfully. “Overall, we were pretty good at not needing any help, but it did happen occasionally.”

“Maybe I should learn some first aid too,” RJ says, thinking about possible worst-case scenarios on unknown planets and the fact that there’s only one of Violet. “Just in case.”

Brian smiles. “No reason not to. Violet could probably teach you stuff that the rest of us don’t know.”

After saying goodnight to Brian (and a still-sleeping Krejjh), RJ starts off in the direction of their room, but then reconsiders and heads towards the kitchen. Maybe it’s the lingering advice from Park to stay hydrated; maybe RJ just wants to sit and nurse a cup of tea and stare into space for a while.

They aren’t expecting, upon entering the kitchen, to find Arkady already there, reaching for the box of tea at the top of the cupboard and wincing as she pulls at her stitches.

“Uh…”

Arkady whips around so fast RJ is positive she must have pulled something else. She relaxes slightly when she sees RJ, obviously afraid it might be Violet or Sana. “Hey, McCabe. What are you doing up?”

RJ shrugs slightly as they step further into the kitchen, letting the door whoosh shut behind them. “Same as you, I think. I came to get some tea. Should you be… doing that?” Arkady has turned back to the cupboard and is slowly stretching up again to try and grab the tea. She huffs in exasperation.

“Don’t you start.”

“I’m just saying, we do have a stool,” RJ points out reasonably, going to fetch the foldaway stepping-stool.

“I don’t need a stool,” Arkady retorts. RJ thinks it’s meant to sound deadpan, but it comes out a little petulant.

“Well, I do,” says RJ, carrying it over and setting it down next to Arkady. “Move over.”

Arkady rolls her eyes, but moves aside to let RJ climb onto the stool and grab the box of tea, newly replenished thanks to a recent supply run.

“Why do you guys keep it on the top shelf, anyway?” asks RJ, setting the box on the kitchen table. “Is it because of…?” They nod at the scrawled NOT FOR YOU, JEETER on the lid of the box.

“Oh, that?” Arkady seems surprised, like she’d completely forgotten it was there. “It’s a joke, kinda – Jeeter doesn’t drink tea normally, but he has a habit of raiding our stash sometimes when he’s really sleep-deprived. And he always forgets that he’s allergic to rooibos, so. I wrote that as a reminder.” She flips open the top of the box and considers the contents.

“I… see,” RJ says, brow crinkling. They don’t really, but that tends to be the case with a lot of things involving their crewmates, so they decide not to spend too much time worrying about it.

Instead, they pick out a bag of peppermint tea and wait for Arkady to choose her flavour – lemongrass and ginger – before quickly plucking it out of her hand. “I’ll make these!”

“Kid–” Arkady grabs at RJ, who dances out of reach. “Listen, I can make my own goddamn tea–”

“Sure, but if I don’t make you sit down then both of us are going to get in trouble with Violet, and also I think you’ve already popped a stitch,” RJ shoots back. Arkady looks down and swears as she sees the tiny spot of blood that’s leaked through the bandages around her side onto her shirt, and grudgingly sits down at the kitchen table.

Smug, RJ rummages around for two clean mugs and drops the teabags into them. They pick up the kettle and carry it over to the small, pump-operated sink to fill it with water.

Intent on their task, RJ almost doesn’t notice it until the last second – out of the corner of their eye, a glint of light off silver rocks, off the barrel of a gun—

The kettle goes flying with a loud clatter as RJ whirls around. “ARKADY, GET D-”

Then they stop, heaving breaths in the middle of the kitchen, their leg throbbing. There’s nothing there.

Everything is very still.

But RJ saw it, they saw–

A glint of light, reflecting off the fridge, in the corner of their eye. Not an attacker. Not silver rocks and purple sand.

“-kid, can you hear me? RJ. RJ, can you hear me?” Arkady is suddenly right there, her face serious and intent, bending down to RJ’s level. “Kid, I need you to breathe with me. You’re having a panic attack. Breathe in–”

RJ is confused. They are breathing in. Aren’t they? Then they register the sharp, panicked breaths that they’re taking, their side beginning to ache from the strain. Oh. A panic attack. Right.

It feels like their lungs are already full to bursting, but RJ manages to drag in a breath.

“And out…” Arkady demonstrates, and RJ copies her. It’s helping to even their breathing out, but RJ’s muscles still feel like they’re locked in fight-or-flight mode, a non-existent threat pinging at the back of their brain.

“And again,” Arkady instructs, and she starts counting as RJ breathes in, and then out again. Her tone is matter-of-fact, with no attempt to sound soothing or sympathetic, and weirdly, it helps ground RJ. Plus, Arkady seems like she’s done this before. Maybe a few times before.

They gravitate over to the kitchen table, RJ breathing more normally but still keyed-up and tense. Their head is light from sucking in air, and their hands feel strangely tingly. They blink as Arkady pushes a hot mug towards them. At some point, she must have cleaned up the kettle and boiled some water for tea.

“Thanks,” they say, voice hoarse. They realise they should probably give some kind of an explanation about what the hell just happened. “Uh, that was…”

“Do you want me to get Violet?” Arkady asks, over them. RJ blinks.

“No, I- it’s not a medical condition, I swear. I mean, I don’t think it is. I just…” They think back to the glint of light, and then immediately try not to think about it. “I thought I saw something, and I panicked.”

“It was the refrigerator, right?” says Arkady. “Reflecting something.”

RJ looks at them, surprised. “Yeah, I- how did you know?”

Arkady shrugs. “I figured it might be something that reminded you of earlier. And since there’s no purple sand in here…” RJ laughs at that, very weakly. “I didn’t suggest Violet because she’s the ship’s medic,” Arkady goes on. “She knows a lot about this kind of stuff. She could…” Arkady gestures vaguely. “Talk to you about it.”

RJ really doesn’t have much desire to talk about what happened, although they know they probably should. “You seem like you know some stuff,” they point out. Belatedly, they remember the tea, and take a sip.

“Having a guh- uhhh, having a close… that is, knowing someone with anxiety will do that to you.” Arkady coughs as if trying to cover up her almost-slip of the tongue. RJ hides their smirk of amusement behind their mug.

“I don’t have anxiety. I don’t think, anyway,” they say slowly. “I’ve never had problems coping with combat situations before. They ran us through all sorts of simulations in the Academy. I learned to shoot in any conditions, under immense amounts of pressure.”

“Yeah, but how much actual field experience do you have?” Arkady asks sceptically. “Those were just simulations. It’s not the same as… actual war.”

She sips her own tea, a dark look on her face, and RJ is forcibly reminded that Arkady fought in the war – was probably a teenager when she did. There’s an awkward silence as they try to think of something to say. “No,” they say eventually. “I guess I don’t have any… experience with that.”

Arkady straightens up suddenly, squaring her shoulders. RJ remembers her popped stitch and hopes she isn’t putting any additional strain on it. “If this is the part where I’m supposed to delve into my dark past and tell you a story that inspires you, you’re shit outta luck,” she says flatly. “You want touchy-feely, you can go wake up Sana.” RJ laughs for real this time.

“I’m good. I promise,” they say. “Uh, but. Thanks for…” They falter, trying to be sincere but not wanting Arkady to make fun of them. “…Not freaking out,” they finish.

Arkady looks a little taken aback, like she wasn’t expecting to be thanked. “It’s no big deal. Really.”

At the mention of Sana, something occurs to RJ that makes their heart drop to the bottom of their stomach. They don’t want to voice it aloud to Arkady, though. Unfortunately for them, she reads it on their face anyway.

“You've got this scrunched-up look on your face,” she remarks. “Whatever it is that’s suddenly bothering you, spit it out.”

Her tone is impatient, but fortunately RJ has spent enough time with Arkady by now to know that she sounds like that most of the time, so they know not to take it personally. Well, too personally.

RJ worries at their lip, and then bursts out, “Please don’t tell Sana what just happened.”

Arkady’s face does something complicated; she looks halfway between baffled and annoyed. “You think I’m – what – going to rat you out to the Captain?” A slight laugh creeps into her voice.

RJ is too worked up to be reassured, though. “It took so long for her to agree to send me out on a drop-off, and I know that I had a bad reaction just now, but I can guarantee it won’t reoccur and I won't let it affect my performance on-”

“Oh my god,” Arkady interrupts, running a hand over her face. “Kid, listen to me. First of all, never try to keep things from Tripathi. It’s pointless, and she’ll only pry it out of you anyway and then be disappointed that you tried to hide it from her. Save yourself the bother.”

Arkady shakes her head slightly. “Second of all, the Captain isn’t going to bench you because you had a bad reaction to something that reminded you of a combat situation. If she did, I’d never-”

She catches herself, but RJ is able to mentally complete the sentence. I’d never be allowed to go on a drop-off or supply run.

“Look,” Arkady says. “You can’t “guarantee” that something like that isn’t gonna happen to you again, maybe in the middle of a job. When it happens, you deal with it, and you get on with the job. If you can’t do that, then maybe you should stay behind on the ship. But if you can deal with it just like you would anything else unexpected that happens, then I don’t see the problem.”

She gives RJ a flat look, as if daring them to find a hole in her logic. RJ has to admit it makes sense. It’s going to take a lot longer than they realised to shake the mentality that was drilled into them at the Academy, and under the Regime: optimal performance, optimal efficiency. The idea that anything less – any mistake – is unacceptable. That being human is unacceptable.

They realise they haven’t said anything yet. Arkady doesn’t seem to be waiting for a response, and has gone back to drinking her tea. Maybe she can tell that RJ’s taking in what she said, but they still want to give some kind of acknowledgement.

“Yes,” they say, into the silence. Arkady raises an eyebrow at them. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Arkady replies.

“Uh, thank you,” RJ adds, because they feel like they should say it, even though Arkady definitely won’t want them to. They drink some more of their now lukewarm tea.

“Ugh, don’t thank me,” Arkady says, predictably. “And speaking of not telling the Captain things: we’re not telling her that I just gave you a goddamn pep talk.”

RJ smirks. They can’t resist pointing out: “Didn't you just say it was pointless to keep things from the Captain?”

“I did. I also forgot to tell you about the exception to that rule,” says Arkady breezily.

“Which is?” RJ asks, already knowing the answer.

“Me.”

RJ snorts a little. It’s a relief to be back on the familiar ground of trading snark back and forth and not thinking about panic attacks or worrying about what will happen the next time they need to pick up a gun. They wonder if they’d be able to sleep now if they went back to their room. Maybe, after a couple of audiobooks. They’re still only midway through the collection that Park gave them, and Park has been talking about persuading Arkady to connect to the local network on their next stop-off so that he can download even more.

RJ realises that they never got the chance to ask how Arkady came to be awake and making tea in the kitchen so late at night. It’s probable that she’d say it was none of their business – and isn’t, really, except for the fact that they’re crew, and they were on a drop-off together earlier where RJ watched Arkady get shot, more than once, in part because she was trying to draw fire – and attention – away from RJ and Sana.

Arkady’s finished her tea, but she hasn’t made a move to get up and either refill the mug with more water or make her excuses and go back to bed. Instead she’s staring into it, brow furrowed, like she’s thinking about something unsettling. There’s shadows under her eyes.

“Are you-” RJ begins, and then second-guesses themself. Except that now Arkady is blinking at them, confused, which means that RJ needs to come up with something to say instead, damn it. “Uh, I mean. Could you… not sleep?”

Arkady looks momentarily annoyed by the question, and RJ prepares to walk it back, but then her face clears and she just looks tired. “The pain makes it… difficult,” she admits, grudgingly. “And before you say anything about painkillers, the kind that Liu gave me have some weird side-effects if you keep taking them for too long, so I don’t wanna risk it.”

“And she can’t give you something else?” RJ asks, because well, it’s the obvious question.

“We’re running low,” Arkady says, shortly. “Meds have always been the hardest to get our hands on, even when we’re just moving them, never mind for our own usage. There’s even more of a shortage now. Black market prices have gone up – we think the Regime is requisitioning more, either because they’re expecting to need them, or just to keep them out of the hands of ‘insurgents’. And back-alley doctors, abortion clinics and anyone else they’ve decided doesn’t deserve to have them.”

RJ feels the now-familiar wave of anger at being confronted, yet again, with evidence of the Regime’s callousness and pointless cruelty towards the people it’s meant to be protecting. Normally when this happens they keep quiet, uncomfortable with voicing outrage towards something that, until recently, they were completely complicit in. But this time, they can’t keep it from slipping out. “Fuck that.”

Arkady just nods, though RJ thinks there’s something approving in it. “Point being, I’d rather go without for a few hours and be sure that we still have enough in reserve for an actual emergency.”

RJ looks at the spot of blood on Arkady’s side, dried now but still there, and wonders what would class as an ‘actual emergency’ in her book if not this. No doubt if it were Sana who had been hurt (well, hurt worse than she was), Arkady would be making a very different argument. But RJ isn’t Sana, which means there is no way they would get away with pointing that out.

“Are you planning to stay up all night drinking tea in the kitchen?” they ask instead.

Arkady’s mouth lifts a tiny bit at the corner. “I was planning to kill a bit of time doing that, then head down to the engine room and do some stretches. Gentle ones.”

“The… engine room?” RJ is completely nonplussed. They know Arkady and Violet go there fairly often, but they figured it was for a specific reason, not like… recreational engine room time. “Don’t you brew moonshine in there?”

“Not all the time,” Arkady says. “A batch lasts us a while, so we only brew some every few weeks. You want to steer clear of the engine room while that’s going on, but otherwise it’s fume-free, and pretty roomy. Have you even been down there yet?”

RJ has not.

Which is how they somehow find themself in the middle of the engine room with Arkady at something like three in the morning, moving slowly through a series of Tai Chi stretches.

RJ can safely say they never predicted that their night would end up like this. But as they finally fall into bed half an hour later, gradually dozing off with an audiobook playing in the background, they feel pretty okay with how it turned out.

[ksbwnotes]

Chapter 2

1. Oof

I’m sure, even after being told about this ‘relative’, Sangwoo kept it cool and didn’t tip off anything to the police, acting like “OH RIGHT MY RELATIVE THAT I HAVEN’T SEEN IN A FKKN DECADE”. It comes to show that he is incredibly calculating and intelligent, able to keep a facade on to an artform. This was probably something he has been able to do ever since he was a child, as we’ll later witness in his flashbacks.

Later Sangwoo says “you might as well have said you were my brother”, which is meaningful because Sangwoo doesn’t have one. So every relative Sangwoo knows is just as nonexistent as his nonexistent sibling.

2. I find this important to note

Bum obviously is prone to putting people on pedestals, only seeing them through the rose tinted glass he wants to see them in.

3. Why this though?

I find it very interesting that, because he doesn’t want to die, what he yells out is “I FELL IN LOVE!”  Why this? I’m sure he’s also used this an excuse for the others he has stalked (I wonder if Sangwoo ever realized that Bum also stalked women and how he felt about that), but it most likely never worked with them. 

Bum was just spouting whatever came to mind, so the fact that the word ‘love’ is what jumped out of him says a lot of how much it has been consuming his every being, even in the face of death.

4. s;jgio;sejro;gisejro;igerj wtf sangwoo

...I...well. I mean, it’s a great parallel, I think. Bum’s desperation for love making him yell that as his last words, while Sangwoo’s desperation for that same love making him stop in his tracks and even...fucking pet Bum???  I dunno, lonely or not, that wouldn’t be the first response of a completely not-gay-straight-as-an-arrow man. But obviously, Bum is a cutie pie and can appear feminine, which is why Sangwoo didn’t automatically kill him. If Bum looked like a ‘man’, then there would seriously be no saving Bum. 

And I’m sure Koogi meant to emphasize Bum’s feminine attractiveness in that petting panel, maybe as a way to show what Sangwoo was seeing. I love how it’s purely white and blank behind Bum, as Bum is all Sangwoo is seeing. The fact that it’s white rather than black can suggest that Bum could be a new beginning, something pure and untainted.

I do kinda wonder if Koogi had Sangwoo as straight as a way to mitigate the stigma against homosexuality???  As a way for her to say “just because the story is between two men doesn’t mean this is supposed to be representative of homosexuality itself”.

5. Wow, the whiplash of mood and quick thinking

Boy didn’t even fkkn hesitate to destroy Bum’s legs, goddamn. 

However, this does show that Sangwoo is very aware and his mental faculties are intact, even during times like these. You think he’d be fkkn furious and lose it, beating Bum to death automatically before Bum could even say anything. But Sangwoo doesn’t. The moment Bum says “love”, he stopped. He wasn’t in a haze of fury...maybe excitement (especially with that goddamn terrifying smile as Bum runs up the stairs), but even that was controlled. 

In away, Sangwoo just seems...tired. He’s moving only because he knows he has to. 

Also, the moment he says “not with your legs the way they are”, Sangwoo sees Bum the same way he has seen the women who’ve also been in the basement. The CEO daughter girl also had broken legs, so obviously the first thing he does is ruin their legs so they don’t run away...which...yeah, smart. I actually haven’t seen that even with Criminal Mind. xD

So that does show that Sangwoo seems really set in keeping his prey with him. Not to ‘chain’ them or anything, but to keep them from leaving him. 

6. Double homicide

Ooooh 3 years ago?? Okay this is interesting...conscription age is 18 (or 17 since Koreans add that one year). I’m confused because, technically, Bum should’ve met Sangwoo first in the military, then in his college days. So did Sangwoo go to military later at age 20?  Could be since his mom is...yeah. And his dad...sure. 

Also, Bum and Sangwoo are four years apart. So say that Sangwoo went to college first, so Bum met Sangwoo when he was 22...then while Sangwoo was 20 and Bum was 24, they went into the military later. Since Sangwoo is 24 now (or 25 in Korean age jfc), that means he was 21 when his parents were killed. 

Sangwoo also seemed to have needed to be discharged early, most likely because of his sick mom, which would explain also why he was in no position to befriend Bum. 

Anyways, so that means Bum knew Sangwoo and was in love with him for about 6 years.

7. Wow

No wonder Sungbae is like this. He sees the eyes of every person he chased in Sungwoo’s dead-eyed stare. But he’s actually wrong about this, lol. Sungwoo’s mom is the culprit, technically, even though she was also a vicitm.

8. UHHHHHHH

HEY, SANGWOO, HEY, WHY IS BUM FKKN NAKED TO HIS UNDERWEAR WHAT THE HELL. WHY DID YOU UNDRESS HIM SANGWOO. HEY.  

Oh my god, wait, was that really Bum’s underwear or did Sangwoo put that on him??

Also, wow, Bum’s hips. He seriously has a feminine body. Like...pear body shape lol. 

Also, seriously, Sangwoo is treating Bum right off the bat like the other women. Rather than completely heterosexual, Sangwoo is more demisexual. And rather than femininity, he more prefers ‘weaker’ bodies, so that he doesn’t feel threatened by them. That is automatic towards females. 

9. Hmmmmn....

Ah, for this to be the first thing you fucking wake up to, jesus christ. xD

I wonder though, why did Sangwoo cut her hair short? There’s probably multiple reasons for it...but one theory I would find interesting is that it’s because he met Bum. 

Maybe he wanted to see how she looked like with a male haircut, how it would look like and compare how it felt like to see a pretty girl beside a pretty boy. He compared the two physically and made his decision that Bum was worth more than her.

I really do find it interesting that Sangwoo truly chose Bum over her, despite her being voluptuous and beautiful and actually a woman, which...you know...important for het men right. 

But Sangwoo chose Bum because even though Sangwoo went straight to beating him with a goddamn bat, Bum yelled “I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU”.

If the choice was between what’s between the person’s legs vs the person themselves, Sangwoo will choose the person.

10. Interesting insight

Into why Sangwoo killed her and his thought process.  Again, interesting, the fact that he kept emphasizing how stupid she was. 

Her screaming for help and stuff is a very natural reaction and no one should ever blame her for that. But, for Sangwoo, it was ridiculous because she should’ve known that would piss him off more rather than make him feel guilty. 

Part of it is how he learned to survive growing up--by reading his parents’ moods and figuring out how to respond. And on a smaller scale, how to respond to other people so that they see nothing but a charming, handsome man. The fact that she can’t even do 1/100th of that is fucking infuriating...and on a personal level, I can understand that frustration.

The other part is that her begging for mercy is obviously NOT what he wants. He wants someone like Bum, who’ll respond to him with loyalty and desire. Who won’t be afraid of him and will still stay to ease his loneliness. 

11. Uh

What kind of half-baked excuse was this, bro. You spared him only because of what he yelled out to you and you just don’t want to admit it to yourself...or maybe just don’t want to say it to Bum, so that you can control him better.

12. Women have hair too, asshole

Sangwoo really does try to feminize Bum throughout the whole story. So obviously, yes, his instinct is more hetero. If Bum were burly like a guy rather than delicate like a girl, there would be no saving him. Sangwoo has his preferences. And Bum fits the most important aspect--and that most important part isn’t Bum’s genitalia.

I also do think it has to do with social construct. Sangwoo most likely grew up internalizing misogynistic and homophobic belief systems, whether or not those are what he truly agreed with.

13. The first time Sungwoo snaps

Notable to mention that it’s because he sees Bum trembling in fear of him. Sangwoo doesn’t like being reminded of the monster he is. He doesn’t take pleasure in it. But because he knows that he’s unforgivable and can’t go back, he just makes the situation worse by further slipping into the skin of a monster.

Honestly, this might be more indicative towards what he witnessed with his father. He’s emulating his father’s qualities because he knows that he’s no better than him, and can’t handle that fact. He’s also locking up his women THE SAME WAY HIS FATHER DID TO HIS MOM. 

But, honestly, I think it’s because his mom is just as bad as his dad, that’s why he’s doing the same things as his dad.

14. You beat the girl

This is indicative of the fact that Sangwoo would be willing to be with Bum despite being a guy. And also suggests that, again, he really was comparing them and decides that Bum, with all his ‘loser’ like qualities, is still worthier than her. Heterosexual first, but demisexual overall.

And again, I think he’s doing the same things he has seen his father has done, pouring the food over Bum’s face like that.

15. First reward

Ah, here comes the training. 

Also, I can see how differently Bum responds compared to every single person he’s seen, including his mom. They all will feel humiliated and resentful, hateful towards Sangwoo, seeing him as a monster, or being completely defeated. But Bum, instead, responds exactly the opposite. This is exactly why I think Sangwoo decides to kiss Bum. 

Because, despite Sangwoo calling him a retard, that is exactly what Sangwoo wanted to see (but at the same time, not...Sangwoo doesn’t want someone as messed up as Bum, but he knows that only someone as messed up as Bum can be with him, and more than anything, he doesn’t want to be lonely). 

If Bum reacted with fear rather than desire, Sangwoo would’ve never kissed Bum.

This is also a huge catch-22 that will end up blowing up on both of them. Bum reacting like this will make Sangwoo feel better about his actions and like he was able to find the person who’ll be able to accept him for who he is. But in the long term, it will reinforce this behavior and truly make him into his father. It will also keep him from truly dealing with his past. 

16. Oh goddamn

Great insight into Bum’s mentality.  It’s amazing, also, that he sees this as a sign of ‘dating’.

What I find telling is that Bum is thinking this DESPITE SEEING PROOF OF HIM BEING A MURDERER. I do get that it could be from his dissociation from real life, so he doesn’t quite understand what is going on. But at the same time, really, if Sangwoo treated Bum better, then Bum would’ve been absolutely fine with him being a serial killer and even join him. I honestly do believe Bum is more of a natural-born murderer than Sangwoo (though Sangwoo is probably more of a natural asshole lol).

17. Why are you also mentioning the word date!?!?

And I’m not sure if Sangwoo senses that those are Bum’s thoughts, but he also is thinking about dating in this context??

I can see how Sangwoo could’ve ‘read’ his prey and responded in a way that would’ve messed with their heads, but at the same time, it could be that Sangwoo is looking at this situation in just as much a twisted way as Bum is. But rather than Bum’s “I’m disgusting, yet he’s kissing me” mentality, he’s more likely thinking “Kissing him isn’t disgusting, so he passes round 3″ (round 1 is the first time with the bat, round 2 is the one where he kills the girl instead of Bum).

The thing is, since Sangwoo didn’t find Bum’s kisses disgusting, it reinforces his desperation to keep Bum with him. If he didn’t like kissing Bum, then I truly believe Bum would’ve died right here and now.

Also, interesting: “You’ll be the only one that ends up hurt, you know?”  So, obviously, Bum having one working leg increases his chances of escape. So this is Sangwoo’s way of saying ‘if you escape, then I’ll make sure to hurt/kill you because of that’.

18. Here comes the sledgehammer

This is an interesting parallel. Looking back at chapter 1, it also seems like only one of the girl’s legs are broken, like how Bum’s leg was after falling down the steps. 

So to keep the girl from escaping, Sangwoo just most likely tied her up. It’s not full-proof and it limits her movements, but Sangwoo probably doesn’t give a shit because with how she’s acting, she wasn’t going to live much longer. 

But for Bum...with Bum, he’s planning to let him live much longer. He doesn’t want to restrict Bum’s movements because that makes him less appealing. Instead, Sangwoo takes it personally--takes it upon himself--to actually break Bum’s legs. This is a much more permanent fixture, reflecting how he’s planning to keep Bum with him for a much longer time. 

Also, now that I’m looking at this, I think Sangwoo doesn’t actually rape his victims. Yeah, he has molested the girl’s dead body, but I think that’s more of a curiosity towards a dead body than actual sexual interest. It’s natural after seeing his mom’s corpse in front of him and all that...screwed up as fuck jazz lol. 

I think he has sex with them in the beginning and that’s probably when he snaps because...his mom raped him, so. After that, he tortures them according to their reaction to him. But he probably doesn’t actually touch them more than that. In the case of hypersexuality, Bum fits this much more than Sangwoo does at this point. Sangwoo seems to just use it as a weapon, while Bum does it because he wants to be fucked. 

This makes sense because it seems like Sangwoo was raped once by his mom and probably molested the other times, while Bum was frequently raped.

Furthermore, Bum--as we’ll later see--is most likely the only one he truly does rape. 

[spaceskam]

freedom tastes of reality

for @isobelevansappreciation day 5: self-discovery

Summary: With the help of Michael and a handful of beautiful women, Isobel figures out apart of herself. OR Aromantic Pansexual Isobel like we deserve.

Warning: mentions of explosions/war, implied sexual content

ao3

.1.

She was the first thing Isobel saw that night.

She looked like a literal angel: dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, white clothes. Her hair was big, a mass of perfect curls forming a halo around her head and resting against her shoulders that were covered in a long white cardigan. Beneath that was a white tube top, white hot pants, white pumps. She was heaven-sent. Isobel forgot how to breathe.

Her eyes followed her to the bar all the way until Michael snorted loud enough to break her trance. Isobel looked back at him to see him smiling smugly at his drink.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he hummed, "Just wondering how long you're gonna lie to yourself."

"Excuse me?"

Michael rolled his eyes and then looked her in the eyes.

"How old are you?" he asked. She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Twenty-one?"

"So you're an adult."

"Yes? What does–"

"And adults do things that are scary."

"I mean, not–"

"So go over there and ask her to dance and stop saying you come to a gay bar to make me feel better," Michael said, throwing a straw wrapper at her. She stared blankly at him for a moment, stumbling over her entire thought process.

"I'm not–"

"Izzy," he said, "Fuck labels. Have fun and figure it out on the way. You want to talk to her so go do it."

Isobel felt frozen for way too long. He eventually rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink.

"Or don't. Not gonna shove you out of the closet," Michael said, putting his drink down, "But I'm gonna go hit on that guy over there. Take your time." Michael stupidly pat her on the back and swaggered over to a guy covered in tattoos and who Isobel wouldn't have assumed was his type.

But eventually her eyes drifted back to the absolute angel who was already looking at her. Isobel quickly looked back to her drink.

Yeah, that girl was gorgeous, that didn't mean Isobel wanted to dance with her. It didn't mean Isobel wanted anything to do with her at all. But she was staring at her and that had her face turning an embarassing shade of red.

And when she looked up again, Angel was coming closer.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Angel asked. Isobel, bold and ever-confident Isobel, opened and closed her mouth a few times to try and find words. And Angel smiled. "I think I do."

"I don't think–"

"No," Angel said, "I know you. I can feel it. Come dance with me."

And, well, Isobel couldn't say no.

By the end of the night, she and Michael walked home full of excited laughter at the new revelation.

.2.

Isobel decided she was blessed when a stunning, long-legged maid of honor walked into the venue.

She looked like a goddess, honestly, high-waisted jeans and a dark purple shirt tucked into them. Her sun-kissed skin complimented her short, firetruck red hair. Isobel hadn't seen the braids maid dressed yet, but she could already see her looking gorgeous in it.

"Isobel, uh, Evans Events, right?" she asked, "Daphney sent me in her place. She's sick and can't taste anything."

"Well, you're a good friend," Isobel smiled, "Nice to meet you."

Isobel led the way to the kitchen where the caterers had set up a bunch of cakes to test. Goddess looked over them and gave her a little smirk.

"Maybe it's unprofessional of me to ask," Goddess said, "But do you maybe wanna try these with me?"

"Maybe it's unprofessional of me to agree," Isobel said, "But why not?"

The next 45 minutes consisted of making eyes with a stranger while trying cake, creating a new form of foreplay out of nothing more than looks. It built slow until eventually they stood closer and Goddess made an excuse to make her try a bite off her fork. Isobel hummed softly in approval and watched as Goddess licked off the excess icing after her. It was small, but heat bloomed in her stomach at the sight.

As confident as Isobel was, this was also brand new territory. She'd danced with women, even kissed them, but she'd only ever slept with men. It was a travesty, honestly, but it seemed like she had a real shot at experiencing something.

"I think this is the one," Goddess said, nodding.

They wrapped that up as quickly as possible and yet it still felt like hours of talking and trying to make sure she didn't let this woman just leave. Eventually, when they finally finished finalizing that, Goddess turned to her.

"Would it be unprofessional to ask you to walk to me to my car?" she asked.

"I mean, technically, you're not my client and my day ended with finalizing the cake choice. What we do doesn't have to be professional," Isobel said boldly. Goddess smiled slow and suggestive and Isobel was losing her goddamn mind.

She walked her to her car and neither of them left it for the next 45 minutes.

.3.

"Don't tell Max."

"Oh, my favorite stories start like that, go on."

Isobel rolled her eyes at Michael and bit the tip of her thumb as she looked around to make sure no one overheard. She leaned against his shoulder.

"I'm gonna sleep with his new coworker."

Michael laughed, but he hid it by bowing his head when she dug her elbow into his side. Then her name was called and she left his side to grab the tray of four coffees. They waited until they got outside and started walking to the police station before they continued their conversation.

"How do you know she's into women?" Michael asked, "Actually, how do you guys do that? 'Cause I still haven't figured out how to do that if I'm not in a gay bar."

"It's all about the eye contact, Michael, Jesus, you know nothing," she scolded. He just snorted in response, waving for her to continue. "I brought Max coffee yesterday like I always do and I had to wait for him to get back and we talked a little bit and basically I know she's into me."

"She said that?"

"No, eye contact, keep up."

"Oh, okay," Michael said, "How can you tell the difference between, like, normal cop eye contact and flirtatious eye contact?"

"What do you mean? There's a clear difference between authoritative eye contact and 'fuck me' eyes," she said. Michael didn't respond right away and she gave an exaggerated sigh. "You poor, poor child."

"Yeah, whatever, I'm the one getting regular dick from a guy training to be a military officer and you're just making eyes at your brother's co worker, who's the real loser here?"

"Still you."

"Rude."

Isobel smiled and looped her arm with his, both of them grabbing their respective coffees and taking a sip as they continued walking towards the station.

When they stepped inside, she almost immediately saw Jenna Cameron sitting posted up on her desk. She was as gorgeous as she remembered and immediately went to give her the coffee she got her.

"Didn't forget you this time," Isobel said as Michael excused himself to give them space.

"Thanks," Jenna said, taking a sip slowly and maintaining eye contact. For a moment, Isobel could see how Michael blurred the two different types. But she could tell and it felt glaringly obvious. "You know, Max doesn't talk about you enough."

"Oh?" Isobel asked, smiling as she leaned against the desk, "Well, what is he leaving out?"

"From what I can tell," Jenna said, pausing to give her an obvious once over, "A lot."

"Well, maybe we can go out for drinks and I'll tell you anything you want to know," Isobel proposed. Jenna smirked and nodded.

"I'd like that," she said, "And maybe I can teach you a few things while I'm at it."

"Like what?" Isobel prodded.

Jenna just shrugged, coyly taking another sip of her coffee and keeping Isobel on her toes. She enjoyed every goddamn second.

"Just a couple of things," she said, "Maybe a couple different ways to use handcuffs. You know, if you're interested."

Isobel sucked in a deep breath and her skin felt hot. It was so, so forward. She was obsessed already. Sorry, Max.

"I'm interested. Absolutely."

"Good."

And Jenna taught her more than a few things.

.4.

It wasn't until she was 26 that Isobel realized something might be a little off.

"Shhh, it's okay," Isobel whispered, combing back Michael's hair as he threw up until there was nothing left to throw up and he was just dry heaving and sobbing into the toilet.

He'd gotten a call from one of Alex's brothers who gave a slightly incoherent spiel that boiled down to Alex's unit having been bombed and he hadn't been found yet. There was a chance he'd never be found or, if he was, he wouldn't be found alive. Michael was a mess.

It didn't quite make sense to her, mainly because she didn't realize he and Alex were still speaking. She thought they hooked up sometimes, but she didn't notice that Michael saw it as more than a hook up. And, yeah, you could be upset about a hook up or a friend dying, but... This was Michael. He was deteriorating in her hands.

She tried to think about a time maybe he'd let on that he was in a relationship with someone and couldn't remember it. She always just assume he was like her, not like Max, and thought dating was stupid. It was fun to hook up, but she never really craved more. Hell, ever since Michael encouraged her to ignore labels and just dive into her sexuality, she stopped worrying about that pressure all together. Every time someone asked when she was going to get married and pissed her off, she had Michael right there confirming her feelings right alongside her.

And now he wasn't.

"It's not okay," Michael choked out, "It's never gonna be okay."

Isobel laid her cheek between his shoulder blades, still combing through his hair and trying her damnedest to comfort him through something she couldn't understand.

"We-we were supposed to have more time," Michael cried, "This was supposed to be his last tour. He was supposed to come home. We were gonna get married, Isobel. Now he's just gone. He's gone. I didn't get to say goodbye."

Married. That one word rung in her mind through his whole speech. He wanted to get married. Her brother, the one person just like her, wasn't like her at all. He wanted to get married. She hadn't considered it. She hadn't wanted to.

She thought through the catalogue of people she'd hooked up with and not a single one had she ever wanted to actually be with romantically. It never crossed her mind. Was it possible she still hadn't met the one?

She pushed the thoughts out of her head for later. Michael deserved her full attention.

"It's not over yet," she whispered, "They might still find him."

"But–"

"And if they don't, then I'm here. You're not alone, okay?" Isobel promised him. Michael choked on a sob, but he nodded.

She held him until the phone called to say he was found alive. Barely, but alive.

They slept easier after that.

.5.

Josh, Brandy, Caroline, Sam.

Isobel dated every different type of person she could find, trying to find her person. They all either bored her, went too fast, or wanted to push boundaries that she didn't like being pushed. PDA was much different when it was something like holding hands and she didn't like it.

In fact, she hated all of it. She was almost 30 and she'd been dating even though she didn't really want to. She'd heard women online say it was fine to be single, but it still didn't sound right. She single didn't feel like the right word. She wanted something... just not that. She didn't know how to describe it.

"You think there's something wrong with me?" Isobel asked Michael as they laid out by the pool she'd had installed during the winter. He turned his head to her, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.

"What?"

"I want like a perpetual fuck buddy instead of a boyfriend or a girlfriend," Isobel said, "I don't mind it being the same person for awhile, you know, but just not like that. Every time I've tried, everyone wants something different than I do. Is that so wrong?"

"No," Michael said, "Who said it was?"

"I mean, my mom, society," Isobel explained. Michael snorted.

"Fuck society."

"Yeah, but still. Even you have a person, what if I don't?" Isobel said. Michael shrugged.

"I wouldn't really call Alex my person," Michael said, "But I'm sure you have someone out there."

"What if I don't want one?"

Michael paused for a few seconds before saying, "You don't have to have one."

"Then why did you have a dramatic pause?" He stayed silent for too long again. "Michael!"

"Sorry, I'm just thinking," Michael said, "Is it commitment you're not interested in or is it the, like, romantic relationship part?"

She thought about it, but it didn't long to find her answer as she filtered through her failed relationships. It was fine up until the point they started expecting her to be a girlfriend or started treating her like one.

"Romantic part," she said as confidentially as she could. He hummed and laid back on the chair.

"Have you ever heard of asexuality?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I'm not that. Definitely not that," she said. He snorted.

"Yeah, but there's a word for the other side of things too. There's aromanticism, kinda sounds like what you're saying. Or at least what I know about it," he explained. Isobel's mouth felt a little dry.

"What happened to fuck labels?"

"I mean, yeah, still fuck labels. But they can be helpful sometimes when you feel alone," Michael explained, "And that might help. I can help you look into it."

"Okay," she agreed softly.

They stayed silent for a little longer as she mulled over the word. If that was it, then she had an answer. She liked the idea of having an answer. She also liked the idea of not having to fucking worry about something so trivial.

That sounded nice.

+1

"You're fucking married!"

"I'm fucking married!"

Isobel hugged Michael so tight she nearly lifted him off his feet. He just laughed helplessly, so unrelentingly happy. And she was happy for him. Maybe she didn't get it, but it didn't matter. He was happy and that mattered.

"This is so fucking weird," Michael laughed, looking around the room at their tiny little reception. Alex was sitting beside his brother, Greg, talking about whatever brothers like them talked about.

"I bet," she said, resting her head against his shoulder as they stared out at the party.

It took a little while, but Isobel finally realized that her relationships were just going to be a little bit different. Just remove the romance. It made it harder to find someone, but, honestly, it was worth it now that she had a word and an understanding. Queer platonic partners weren't easy to come by where they lived, but she didn't even care. She was finally happy with her situation.

"I'm so happy for you," Isobel said. She'd gotten to walk him down the aisle which was an unforeseen dream of hers. "You and Alex are gonna be so happy."

"I hope so," Michael breathed, "A long goddamn time coming. I'm ready to just fucking be with him without all the bullshit."

"Well," Isobel said, "Your time is now."

"Yeah."

He rested his cheek against her head and watched as Alex squeezed his brothers arm before getting up to go speak to someone else. Isobel watched as Greg sort of folded in on himself after Alex left, curling over his phone.

"Don't tell Alex, but his brother's kind of hot," Isobel noted. Michael snorted.

"You know what, Greg might actually be a good fit for you. His dad fucked him up real bad."

"Oh, thanks for that."

"No," Michael laughed, "I meant he's got a bad track record at girlfriends 'cause he doesn't give them enough attention or whatever. Married to his job, he said. But he's nice and he does his best, so I say go for it. See if you guys fit."

"Ooh," Isobel said, slowly peeling herself off Michael, "Gonna go see if I can offer something more his speed, you go blow your husband." Michael laughed and let her go.

"Oh, and, Izzy?" he said before she got too far. She hummed as she turned back to him. "You're my person. Not Alex. Just thought you should know."

And that meant more to her than anything else.

[calumrose]

Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 6 || C.H

A//N: Viola, I present chapter 6! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it was only supposed to be small but... whoops it’s over 9k! Anyway, here’s more Calum and Eloise in all their cuteness (and raunchiness - that’s your warning!) Enjoy! 

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 

His lips were sinners. God, they were that good.

Eloise could barely hold herself together as his swollen muscle worked against her, every crude sound it elicited echoed throughout the silent room. Her hand involuntarily found its way into his hair, fingers tangling in his dark curls as his tongue worked wonders on her core. Head pressed into the mattress, Eloise fought the urge to look down and watch him, knowing the glint of his eyes as he peered at her would only encourage her to stampede to breaking point.

She didn’t understand how she wasn’t embarrassed, never attempting to hide herself from him as he discarded each item of clothing from her beautiful body. He never once made her question herself as she lay in front of him, only ever fuelling her ego with sweet names and amorous affirmations.

She was practically begging for him, begging for him to keep going, begging for him to bring her to the point where she would crumble. God how was a man this good.

“God, Calum,” She gasped, throwing her head back against the mattress. The sound of his satisfied groan was music to her ears, as was the sound of every moan that fell from her lips to him. It was a mixture of sounds they wanted to hear forever.

Calum watched from his position, knees bent as he knelt at the edge of the bed, his tongue savouring every inch of her taste, her back arching in pleasure, completely bewitched at the sight of her losing every ounce of self-control right in front of his very eyes. He took a mental snapshot of every moment, drinking in every gasp, every moan, every quiver that rattled throughout her body as he worked his tongue against her sensitive folds.

“God, you’re so pretty like this,” He remarked breathily, his hands grasped her thighs to keep them open, to keep her ready for him, revelling in the way she presented herself to him, in the way she blossomed, and waited for him to bring her to exactly where she wanted to go. The groan he released vibrated throughout her entire body, her fingers tightening in his curls, his dark hungry eyes watching as Eloise’s glazed ones met his as his tongue licked along the expanse of his lips that glistened like gloss in the light with the taste of her. “So goddamn pretty.”

Every swipe of his tongue, kiss of his lips, every soft touch had Eloise’s toes curling as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. Her stomach coiled with every touch, every look. His eyes travelled along her body as it shook for him, his eyes admiring the sight of her neck that was littered with markings he had caused, the excitement of knowing they would only darken over time elicited a growl from within him. The sound was overwhelming in Eloise’s ears, her heartbeat thundering as Calum’s talent only heightened her nerves, her body craving to feel the burst of pleasure it so desperately desired.

His arms only pulled her thighs closer to him, her whole body shifting further down to the bed as he pressed his tongue further into her, embedding the muscle as it worked into overdrive, pushing for the release that both of them were trying to reach. The room was filled with whines, gasps, and shaking moans as she neared so close to her climax, her head pushing back against the mattress as she gasped for air, letting out a struggling, “Oh, my g-god,” when she felt as though she was at her peak. “Shit, shit, shit, Calum, I’m- “

Her free hand was thrown over her mouth as if an attempt to silence her outcries in the quiet house, her body shaking, eyes closing as her body embraced the overpowering blow that Calum was delivering.

“Cum for me, doll,” Calum encouraged, his muscular arms lifting her hips as he straightened up, tongue never leaving her as his lips encased the orgasm that erupted within her. The new angle only heightened her senses, the overwhelming strength of the orgasm causing Eloise’s eyes to see fireworks, her mind hazed as her toes curled, her blunt nails tugging on Calum’s hair only causing him to groan against her and she released right there and then all over his tongue.

Calum released his grip on her, lowering her hips, with a final kiss to her sensitive clit, being ushered back up to where the pretty brunette lay with a gentle tug of his curls. He didn’t give it a second to wait before he crawled up her body, lips following the saliva trail he had left behind when he first began his descent down her body. A journey he would make a thousand times over if she wanted him to. He knew he would never get tired of her body.

His plush lips ventured back along the sweet skin of her neck, his hands slowly travelling over the swell of her breasts, a destination they never wanted to leave, his fingertips tugging her nipples teasingly as his connected their lips in a slow, sucking kiss, the taste of her dancing along his tongue.

He was completely obsessed with her, in every sense of the word. He wanted to know every inch of Eloise like the back of his hand. The way she felt, the way she sounded. The way she tasted had his tongue tingling, a taste he only wished to be blessed with every day. And still, he knew that would never be enough for him, even having her morning, noon, and night would never be enough to suffice Calum’s dying desire for the girl who lay open for him.

“I want you so bad,” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes fluttering as she reached a single hand forward and pulled on the waistband of his boxers, silently urging for him to remove the constraints. Her whine felt like a punch to his gut, feeling his length twitch at the sound. Her chest rose and fell with shallow shaking breaths, her body urging for her to continue, her body urging for him.

Eloise couldn’t hold back at the fact that she practically drooled for him, the sight of him stood in front of her, completely bare once he tossed his boxers to the side, completely bare and ready for her. She couldn’t fight her eyes from scanning down his figure, drinking in the sight and admiring every single inch of his body. The art that danced along his skin; his collarbones and arms only fuelled the fire, the toned chest, compelling thighs, and perfectly sculpted face were only a small list of the reasons why she felt as dumbfounded as she looked, of the reasons why she was so starstruck by the god of a man who stood before her.

The mattress dipped slightly as he crawled back onto the bed, his lips connecting with her skin once again as he journeyed his way back to her lips, the connection between them practically searing like a bonfire. Each kiss leaving scorching burns in their wake as they lost themselves in one another, the feeling of Calum’s hardened length pressed against her bare thigh caused her heart to beat erratically, as if it were moments away about from bursting.

“Utterly perfect,” Calum rasped, lips capturing hers as if to try and solidify his statement, realising how breathless she had him, how absolutely numb he felt to anything other than her in that moment, his front pressed flush against hers, their skin smooth against one another’s touch as the impatience between them grew with every passing second. “Fuck, I need you so bad.”

“Then have me,” Eloise let out a whine, senses overwhelmed at the thought of Calum and having to wait any longer to feel him, her hands grasping his face as if he was a delicate rose, the lines of his jaw resting in her palms, as his chest pressed against her shaking one. Their eyes met in a fiery dance, brown staring into brown, as they hovered over one another, lips merely inches apart, as she drank in every feature of him, cherishing every beautiful thing she could see as she watched the man above her. “You can have all of me, Cal. I want you.”

Foreheads pressed together, breaths mixing within the silence of Calum’s bedroom as their blood pumped throughout their veins, and hearts pounded against their chests. They were entangled with one another, eyes never drifting as they tried to remain as close as their bodies would allow, realising that such a thing would never be humanly possible.

Realisation hit Calum like a truck, the thought of a rubber between them only bringing a hint of disappointment to his chest before his train of thought was interrupted by the familiar sweet song of Eloise, “I’m covered. ‘M on the pill.”

He swore his heart jumped and confetti cannons were shot in his chest as the words she spoke registered in his brain, his forehead dropping to the space on the bed next to her, lips pressing against the crook her neck, a groan laced with nothing but pure arousal escaped his mouth at the thought of feeling Eloise without any barrier, any filter between them as they got lost in each other’s bodies.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” The smirk was almost painful, the thought in his head being voiced as it fluttered within his chest and mind where the thoughts of Eloise basked. His strong hand reached down between them, gripped his base, and allowed the tip to brush against her sensitive folds briefly, the soft audible whine that escaped her lips only encouraged him, the smirk remaining strong along his lips before he slanted them over her own in a hot kiss; full of adrenaline as he got lost in the beauty that was Eloise.

With a swift movement of his hips he allowed himself to sink inside of her, the sensation of her body wrapping itself around him forcing him to release her lips momentarily, foreheads pressed together as the two let out conjoined groans at the new feelings that burned within them.

Eloise couldn’t fight the gasp as she rolled her eyes back at the staggering way of how he filled her so completely, buried to the hilt, to the point where she could already feel her stomach coiling at the sensation that had begun to build. God, she would never feel something like this anywhere else. And he felt the same, dragging his lips along hers as he released shaking breaths, his heart caught in his throat as he held himself up above her, arms shaking at the sensation that was this woman who was wrapped around him.

Both of them took a moment to process what was happening, to bask in the level of intimacy that neither of them had taken a step towards that first night of meeting, the new level that they had undeniably craved ever since. It took for Eloise to clench, for her eyes to roll euphorically at the sensation of Calum being buried so far inside of her, for Calum to make a move, breaking every slither of control he had within himself as he pulled out, barely leaving much of himself in her warmth before he snapped his hips forward, the sound of their skin connecting being a sound that only spurred him on.

The pleased moan that escaped Eloise at Calum’s rough movement motivated Calum to pick up the pace, his lips helplessly kissing her for what felt the hundredth time that day, but still revelled in the fire her lips ignited just like it was the first time he felt them all over again. It was all tongue and clashing teeth, rushed movements mixed with the burn that was coursing through their bodies as the waves of pure ecstasy overpowered their ability to breathe and the control over their bodies, the sensation that erupted within Eloise only being made more enjoyable at the gentle scratch of his stubble against her soft skin.

Eloise’s legs moved to wrap around his hips, her ankles locking together at the base of his back, letting out a soft, “Feel so good, Cal,” as the new angle allowed for Calum to push himself into her further, speed only picking up, and had Eloise hurdling straight for the edge. Calum had his face buried into the crook her neck, unable to comprehend a feeling as euphoric and overwhelming as this, an experience he knew he never wanted to end. “God, I’m so full.”

She really was going to be the death of him, he knew. Calum’s lips kissed her collarbones, painting new markings along her supple skin. He had to find the strength to push himself up, his torso hovering above her, hand grasping onto the back of her thigh, blunt nails leaving crescent shaped marks as his hips never once missed a beat, his entire body overwhelmed with the emotion and the feeling of just how well he fit with her, as if she were his missing piece. “You were made for me, baby,” He groaned, the praise that fell from his lips couldn’t be stopped, as he embraced everything about her. “A perfect creation, just for me.”

The moan that left Eloise only proved that she believed that. And she believed that in its entirety.

It wasn’t much longer before they were both meeting their final destinations, stomachs coiling almost painfully as their muscles convulsed at their fast-approaching orgasms. Eloise couldn’t hold back her release, not once Calum let his hand fall from her thigh to keep himself propped up, his free hand travelling down to rub fast, but loose, hypnotic circles over her clit with the calloused pad of his thumb, as he let the urging words slip from his swollen lips, “C’mon baby, let me see how pretty you are. Let me see just how pretty you are when you cum, Eloise.”

Eloise didn’t think she had it in her to force her eyes open at his enticing words, her eyes looking up and finding the beauty that was Calum above her, bringing her the kind of sensual bliss she didn’t know was possible, the man who ignited her body in a burning fire, one that caused every single nerve throughout her body to stand at full attention. All it took was for her eyes to connect with his and that was it. She was breaking in the best way possible.

Calum’s movements continued, speed never slowing, as he encouraged her to ride out the high, the warmth she embodied as she released only spurred him on, reaching his own orgasm at a speed he didn’t know how to control. The echo of skin slapping against skin and the combination of their moans captured the moment perfectly, filling the air with nothing but the pleasure they let themselves get lost in.

The kiss-swollen lips of Eloise parted in a powerful gasp as Calum continued his movements, his body yearning for the sensation he felt within her sensitive core, urging himself to remember the moment of how her name felt falling past his lips in an overpowering euphoric groan when his own orgasm finally caught up to him, washing over his entire being, and she feels him in all his glory as he deliciously spilled every ounce of himself inside of her.

Breaths were heavy, limbs were tangled as they lay together in the messy sheets, basking in a moment they knew they would never forget, in a moment they knew had changed everything for the better.

*****

19 Days Left

The sheets felt softer than the last time she found herself tangled in them. The colour of the curtains no longer puzzled her, neither did the colour of the floor, or the dog toy that had been moved to below the windowsill since she was last here. Everything was the same; still memorable. The only difference this time compared to the last was a big one. The stupid smile that spread across her face at the thought of the sleeping man next to her, his arm hooked securely around her waist as she lay in his bed, only widened as she remembered the night’s events.

The thought of him cherishing her was one she knew she would never forget, neither would the thought of how perfect he looked above her, felt inside of her, how he spoke to her was even perfect. She wanted to slap herself for feeling like a lovestruck teenager, unable to stop the rerun of the night as it played vividly in her mind. Eloise, come on!

She couldn’t help but to look at his arm, eyes picking out the ink that was scattered along his skin, her finger inquisitively coming up and running along it, tracing the lettering and over the outline of the different pictures as she smiled at the smooth feeling of his skin against hers. Eloise’s mind flashed back to what led to the events of last night, holding back a sigh at the memory at the feeling she remembered of how she felt like she was sat in a confessional, admitting to her wrong-doing and begging for forgiveness. She messed up, she knew she had hurt him, and she had only hurt herself when she learnt that the feelings he had felt towards her were genuine, them stemming from a place of kindness with nothing but good-hearted intentions, and she had quite literally taken his heart and played with the strings.

She knew it was never supposed to get to this point. Not for her anyway. She wasn’t supposed to care if Calum felt genuine towards her, she wasn’t supposed to care if he fell in love with her or not, she wasn’t supposed to catch real feelings because it was all for personal gain. It was all for a game of money. She was in pretty deep, and quite frankly she wasn’t worried – well, she was – but not about what happened to her. She worried about what Scott would say, about what Han would say. She was betraying them big time; she knew she would never be forgiven for that. She knew she would never be forgiven by them like she had been by Calum; the two other men in her life being a lot colder and having a lot more conditioning to be naturally angry. She was going to lose them; she was willing to accept that to a certain extent but that didn’t stop it from hurting still.

Thoughts travelled to the man who slept next to her, brown eyes watching as soft snores drifted from his parted lips, back rising and falling beneath the duvet, hair sticking up all different directions – much of that being her own fault – as it spread against the pillow. He was like a perfect picture, something that was to be treasured and never disturbed. He was almost too perfect to be touched, to be seen as real, but he was. He was real and he was with Eloise.

What are we? – She asked herself, letting a soft sigh fall from her lips as she lay there and watched a sleeping Calum, the sight being one she felt as though she would never get bored of watching, it filling her body with relaxation as she matched his breathing, finding herself counting each one silently. She knew they weren’t a couple; in all honesty she didn’t know what exactly would class them as a couple. Did they have to officially agree to that? But she knew they weren’t just seeing each other. Surely there was something in-between right? Was there a name for two people who felt a connection after a few days, one of them having lied to the other since the start, confessing to said lie, forgiving them, and then sleeping together? No? Okay.

It wasn’t something that she had the urge to discuss, not wanting to hear a dreaded response of nothing – that being physical or verbal. But it was still something she craved to know, something she didn’t think she would feel so desired to understand. They weren’t friends. She knew that much. But were they lovers?  

“You’re awake,” A sleep-laced grumble distracted Eloise from her thoughts, her eyes falling to feel the brown ones peeking up at her through thick eyelashes, a sleepy smile on his lips as he noticed his arm that was stretched out across her waist; it not moved since they fell asleep the night before. Eloise couldn’t not notice the subtle surprise in his voice when he saw her, the sound resulting in her own smile itching at her lips at the sight of the pretty man who lay in the bed. “I thought you would’ve been out for the count for a few more hours.”

“Unfortunately for you, sleeping beauty, I’m a morning person. I can barely sleep past ten on a good day,” She chuckled, adjusting herself so she sat up against the headboard, her soft hand coming up and combing through his curls, her lips pursed ever so slightly as she gently combed out the tugs with her fingers, feeling comfort in the small moments she could share with him. It was so comfortable, so quickly, so easy. His eyes watched her from where he lay, brown eyes searching those of Eloise as he treasured this moment.

It was as if there were no barriers between them, as if it had always been like this, as if it had always just been the two of them with no tension, no lies, and no associations that stood between them. It felt as if they had been like this for months, as if it had always meant to be. And that warmed Calum’s heart, to see Eloise so content as she focused on her hands in his hair, the little glint of concentration in her eyes as she focused on removing the knots as gently as possible, as if her hands didn’t hold the ability to destroy lives if she so wished. It was a softer side she had, one that not many saw, one that Calum felt he had begun to see from the start, it only showing itself more and more clearly with every moment he spent with her.

The involuntary soft moan he let slip was one that caused a fond smile to spread along Eloise’s lips, the sound only proving to her that he enjoyed her touch, the way her fingers worked as they curled through his hair. She remembered when her mother used to brush her hair, when she used to play with her hair, having always loved the feeling and would let her mother do it for hours. It was something that everyone enjoyed, even if they didn’t want to admit it. The soft tingle it created within the body being one that Eloise missed, a soft comfort it brought to her that she no longer could feel.

“Are we going to talk about last night?” She spoke softly, twisting a soft curl around her finger as she brushed them away from his face, her expression soft as she sat up against the headboard, hand never stopping as it continued to rake through his mop of curls. It wasn’t a mistake, she was sure of that, but she wanted to know what he thought. Did he come to regret the decision after sleeping on it? Or did he bask in the glow the thought of the night gave him inside; the burning butterflies that danced within his stomach? “Or would you rather just- “

“What about it?” He interrupted her, eyes glancing up as he perched his chin in his palm as he pushed himself up, using his bent arm beneath him to support himself. She was even more beautiful in the morning, he noted. He had saw her in the morning before, but this was different. He was with her, fully engrossed in the moment they were sharing together. There was no rush of anyone trying to escape, there was no awkward moments of trying to remember what happened. There was nothing but pure admiration as they remained in bed and shared hopeful gazes and soft touches.

“Anything, I guess,” She shrugged, her cheeks turning a light rosy shade as she looked down at the space between them, tearing her eyes from his for a moment. Why did she feel so shy all of a sudden? “Like, what happened,” God, she felt like an idiot. She really was acting like a lovestruck teenager with a painfully sickening crush. It was like being back in high school.

“I’m not sorry if that’s what you mean,” The confidence he spoke with was dizzying to Eloise, he was so sure of his answer, the smile on his lips was enough to make her want to repeat the sins of the night before all over again. Pull yourself together, she warned herself silently as she rolled her lips into her mouth, meeting his dark eyes as she tried to prepare herself for her own response.

“Me neither,” Her blunt nails gently grazed his scalp as she slowly pulled her hand away, abandoning his mop of hair before she readjusted herself on the bed, crossing her legs as she attempted to sit comfortably. Her fingers grasped the bedsheets, pulling them up to cover her bare legs in an attempt to protect them from the chill coming from the window. Although with the heat that Calum was creating, she didn’t need to worry about being cold. “I don’t regret any of last night.”

“’M glad to hear it.” He hummed, staring at her helplessly with a boyish smile spread across his lips. That fucking smile. It was going to get Eloise in so much trouble. Eloise’s eyes subtly drifted to his chest, noting the black ink she could make out from their positions, the artistry being something she always admired regardless of who it was attached to. It was something she had always considered doing, but she never had the money and never had the time. So, it was put on the backburner until a later date. Although most things that Eloise placed on the backburner ended up being forgotten, a distance wish that she would never go back to. The art reminding her of having a choice, rekindling the memory of what it felt like to live before she was tied down, it only fuelling her desire to feel that memory once more.

And Calum was her chance.

“I’m tellin’ you, you better make a breakfast as good as that beef you made when I first came over. You’ve set yourself at a high standard and I really don’t want to be disappointed,” Eloise pointed lazily at him, smiling at the memory of the dinner they shared that night; the food being something that she knew she would never forget, it was that good.

“I’m not makin’ any promises,” He laughed as he pushed himself up, sliding out of bed, stretching his arms out and releasing a deep yawn. Eloise’s eyes fell to his shirtless body, watching as every muscle twisted and bulged as he stretched; biceps curling, shoulders tensing, thighs making their presence known as he stood there in nothing but his boxer shorts in front of her. She could feel her mouth-watering at the sight, having to mentally remind herself that he wasn’t a piece of meat; no matter how tasty he looked. “But I can try my best. Anything specific takin’ your fancy or should I surprise you?”

The raise of her eyebrows was enough of an answer and he laughed, slipping into a pair of athletic shorts, and left the bedroom with a soft acknowledgement of, “Surprise it is.” Before he disappeared into the kitchen to make a start, leaving Eloise in the comfort of the creased bedsheets, alone and warm. She let out a loud exasperated breath, her chest finally feeling light as she released the weighted breath she had been holding, her mind running in circles as Eloise tried to figure out what was happening in that moment. She felt like she was dreaming, as if she were flying, it felt impossible to be living.

It was feeling like that that made her realise why she never walked away every single time she thought she should have. Last night, Eloise was trying to convince herself that she should have walked away from Calum at the very beginning, leaving his house that morning and never going back. She felt like when Han questioned her whereabouts, she should have said that he didn’t want to see her; she should have been stern. She felt like she should have picked a different victim. But when she smiled at the butterflies she felt when she was around Calum, when she felt herself laugh with him, she knew she couldn’t have done it with anyone else. She knew she couldn’t do it at all.

It’s what led to her sitting in his living room the night before, confessing to the twisted plan of the Gypsy Kings, admitting to participating with the cruel intentions, only to realise that the fake feelings she was pretending where her real ones all along; undeniably. The sight of him made her weak at the knees, made her feel guilty for ever having any form on unkindness intended towards him, made her unable to feel anything but pure admiration and infatuation for him. The little things he did; how he smiled, how he laughed, how his hair fell limp in the morning, how his fingers tapped on the steering wheel of the car in even total silence, made her realise why she stayed every time, why she could never make herself walk away and why she felt what she did for the man who unintentionally captured her heart.

The wooden floors of Calum’s bedroom felt cold against her feet, her legs carrying her around the bed and to the bedroom door. Her hands gripped hold on Calum’s shirt that he had discarded on the floor last night, tossing it over herself and nodding how it came to the perfect length as the hem resting halfway down her thighs. He wouldn’t mind right? She pulled open the bedroom door, the familiar hallway greeting her eyes as she spotted the large windows, the sunlight beaming through them due to the sociable morning hour. Her eyes caught sight of the familiar photographs along his walls, the beautiful canvas at the far end catching her attention for a few extra seconds before her brown irises fell on one familiar photograph. She stared at it with less surprise this time round, and instead of her lips trembling at the anxiety of discovering his job, she smiled at the sight of him in his blue uniform, a hint of reassurance washing over her and she thought of how proud he was of what he did, of who he was. And his family must have been too.

Bacon. She could smell bacon, and man it smelt awesome. Her eyes practically hit the back of her head in euphoria at the realisation of what the smell was. Her mouth instinctively salivating at the thought of greasy bacon, it being something that she always enjoyed. It was impossible to mess up bacon. Well, she hoped. She walked into the open plan area of the house, smiling at the sight of Calum stood over the stove, his back facing her as he focused on the meat that was frying away in the pan in front of him. He looked at peace when he was cooking, his muscles were relaxed apart from the one in his brow, constantly furrowed in concentration as if to make sure he didn’t mess up what he trying to cook.

She made her way into the kitchen, smiling fondly as she perched herself up to sit on the kitchen counter next to the sink, her head tilting to the side as she admired the sight of him. He stood in his dark blue shorts; hands occupied as he hummed along to whatever song what was playing on the radio by his window. It sounded like typical breakfast radio, the upbeat voices of the presenters trying to boost the moods of many early risers as they made their way to work, filling the kitchen before they dispersed and a recognisable song in the charts played in their place, filling the room with music.

Her brown eyes fell to the couch on the far side of the room, smiling as she recognised the familiar lump of fur that lay curled up on the cushion, big eyes meeting hers from the other side of the house. “I think he’s upset with me,” Eloise couldn’t hold back the giggle, disrupting the silence and tearing Calum’s attention away from the pork in the pan and the voices on the radio as his eyes turned and met the familiar cocoa ones that belonged her. She pointed over to where Duke lay on the couch, chuckling fondly at the recollection of she first met the pup. “I think I stole his bed last night, whoops.”

Calum couldn’t hide his chuckle at the realisation, smiling as he turned back to pan with a shake of his head. “He’ll get used to it.” He chimed, using the tongs in his hand to remove the cooked pieces of meat from pan before placing another few strips on the heat, a loud sizzle erupting from the connection between raw meat and burning metal.

“And why would he?” She asked knowingly, smiling at the thought of this becoming a regular occurrence. A genuine regular occurrence. Eloise found herself liking the idea of this becoming her new normal; being in the kitchen in the morning with someone cooking for her, a dog wandering around minding its own business, and having nothing but happiness cloud the room as the two people in it enjoyed one another’s company. It was a secret dream that Eloise didn’t talk about too often; usually only when she got drunk enough but the sad kind of drunk. She did have one dream that she denied herself; one where she with someone, someone she loved dearly; someone who loved her, and they grew together, owned a home together, and raised a family together. It was something that she secretly wanted but had written it off long ago, the mere idea becoming a joke to her. It was never going to happen for a girl like her and she was more than willing to accept that.

“Bacon’s ready if you want some,” His voice spoke up, head nodding towards the plate of piping hot bacon that sat on the counter, ignoring her question, both of them knowing exactly what he meant, “You’ll find the butter on the bottom shelf in the fridge and the rolls are in the cupboard next to it.” His hand pointed behind him towards the silver appliance, head quickly turning to glance at her as a smile graced his features, the sight of her in his shirt finally sinking in and catching his eye.

Calum swore he felt his boxers tighten at the view if front of him, his throat drying as he tried to compute between his brain and his body, trying to control himself. It was just a shirt, he told himself. Just a shirt. Cheeks flushed, Calum coughed a little to clear his throat, blinking rapidly a few times before turning his head and focusing back onto the hot pan in front of him. It’s just a shirt, Calum. He had to remind himself that he had seen her naked for crying out loud, why was seeing her in his shirt causing him to have a somewhat similar reaction? Oh yeah… Okay, don’t think about that, that’s not helping.

Eloise noticed his reaction; the way his cheeks flushed, and the way his Adam’s apple bopped as his eyes cascaded down her figure – as subtly as possible – so he could drink in the woman who stood in his kitchen. It made her feel as though she wanted to shy away like a child but there was something inside her that craved having his eyes on her, as if there were no other place where she wanted them to be.

It blew her mind when she thought about it; how every single feeling she had felt since the moment their lips connected last night suddenly made sense of everything. It had opened her eyes and let her see what was right in front of her since that very night. Eloise couldn’t help but wonder if this is what her parents once felt; a self-embrace as you looked on at someone who made you feel as though you were suffocating but in the best way. She wondered what it felt like for them, hopelessly lovestruck, with nothing but eyes for one another, she wondered what would have happened if her dad didn’t live as he did. Maybe they would’ve been happier, maybe they would still be alive.

She knew her mother would be proud of her for listening to her heart, always knowing that her mother pushed for her to follow the steady beat of the organ and to do what she felt was right. Her dad, on the other hand, was the tactful thinker; always planning ahead of what his next move would be in all walks of life. For so long, his method made sense to her but it was what had caused her to become so unhappy in the way she lived, something that she hadn’t fully come to realise until her heart spoke up, until her mother helped her.

Eloise took her place at the counter beside Calum, smiling to herself as she buttered a few rolls and made the bacon sandwiches. It blew her mind how so quickly she had accepted what she felt; how normal this felt. And she knew, she was going to enjoy every second that she could get before she would have to face the reality of what this admission brought forward for the both of them.

Warm arms slipped around her waist as a tender presence was felt behind her, soft full lips finding the crook of her neck like they had last night as Calum held her, distracting her from the mundane task she was trying to perform. He was good at that already: distracting. “Bacon smells good,” She commented, closing over a roll and placing it down on a small plate to her left.

“You smell pretty good too,” He hummed, pulling her tightly against his chest, erupting a giggle from Eloise as she smirked at his remark. His eyes trailed over the skin of her neck; bruised from his lips and the assault he struck upon the blank canvas last night, his mind remembering the path he had paved out along her body, the urge inside him burning with desire to walk it again, and again, and again. He wanted to walk that descent for the rest of his days.

“Take your stupid breakfast and sit down,” Eloise scoffed playfully, her head shaking as she handed him his plate before making her way over to his dining table, feeling how his arms dropped from her as he took the plate before joining her.

She couldn’t ignore how his knee brushed her own every few minutes, as if he were reminding himself that she was still there, real, and not just in his imagination. The breakfast was good, Eloise sucking the salty grease from her fingers after picking up a piece of bacon that had slipped from the confinements of her bread roll. She could feel the burning eyes from across the table, unable to hide the pouting smirk that she wore at the expression on his face she caught in the corner of her eye. She knew what she was doing.

Calum couldn’t help but bask in how good that moment felt, the simple act of sharing a breakfast together filling him with a fulfilling feeling that he felt as though he had always searched for. His eyes watched Eloise as she ate, wishing that he could spend every morning like this; in peace and in happiness with her. Her eyes met his, the hairs of his leg brushing against her own limb as he slid it to rest against her soft skin, her touch bringing a comfort to him as they sat together. He knew they had things to talk about, but he couldn’t help but want to ignore them for as long as possible, to enjoy every moment he could have with her with no interruptions. And she wanted the same, badly, but they both knew they couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room much longer.

It was time to bite the bullet and ask themselves the burning questions.

“How are we going to handle this?” Eloise was the first to speak, taking the first swing at the invisible wall they had silently put up to forget about what brought them together, her knee knocking against his gently as if to try and make sure the same comforting aura remained between them. “They can’t know about us, no one can. Not until this over.”

Instinctively Calum nodded, he knew she was right. Nobody; no cops, or gang bangers, could know about them until this was over. Of course, Han and a few members knew about them already, but no one knew about them. And that was how they needed to keep it. As far as anyone else was aware, everything between them was fake when it came to Eloise, and nobody could think otherwise.

“Doesn’t mean we need to act any different though,” He let a shrug fall from his shoulders, large hand reaching out and capturing hers in a soft hold, turning the limbs over so he could laced his fingers between her small ones, a soft smile being shared between them at the pure sight, “You just need to give them the fake intel on our investigations like we agreed, mislead them into thinking that you’ve pushed us in an opposite direction, so they think they stand a chance,”

Eloise couldn’t tear her hand from where their hands joined, the size of his compared to her own was almost laughable, it consumed her small fist with ease. His hold was warm, comforting, dizzying, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She had grown up holding guns, knives, liquor bottles, and endless numbers of dirty money bags in the palms of her hands, and she knew that with the simple touch of Calum’s palm in hers that she would choose to not touch anything else as long as she lived. He was truly breaking her, breaking down every wall she had built over the years, making his stand as the one who could free her heart.

When she sat there, holding his hand, she felt as though she could breathe, as if she was living, truly living, like every cold restraint she had tied around her heart over the years of feeling afraid, of being alone, were breaking when he looked at her, with every simple smile she felt like her heart could beat again, it could beat freely as she drank in every beautiful second that she shared with him.

The way her heartbeat vibrated within her chest reminded her of a time when she last felt truly alive; a time where she last felt whole. The photograph she found on her Instagram that day at the café, the last happy trip her and her parents had taken together before everything fell apart. She labelled that day as the last one she remembers smiling with nothing but love, the day that makes her heart bleed with pain at the knowledge that she’ll never experience that day again. But being with Calum reignited that feeling of warmth in her heart that she felt, reminding her what it was like to forget the pain she had become so engrossed in.

It was all she had ever wanted; to be able to forget and to be able to embrace memories that she could associate with nothing but positive feelings.

Maybe Paige really was right… Maybe Eloise was falling in love.

But wasn’t it a bit quick? Eloise couldn’t even be sure that it was how she was feeling. Maybe it was just the effects of their night playing with her heart? No, definitely not. She decided to push the thoughts to the back of her mind; a box to delve into another time.

“They don’t need to know what doesn’t concern them, just let them believe whatever they want,” Calum spoke kindly, eyes detecting the undeniable paranoia that itched across her face. It scared her a bit, or better said; they scared her. She had never been afraid of any of the Gypsy Kings before, but that was before she got romantically involved with a cop, especially one that she was supposed to use to their advantage. “El, just tell them what you need to in order to keep them happy. You just need to keep them happy until that shipment comes in, and then let us do the rest. And until then, I’ll keep the cops off your backs, okay?”

They had a plan. Eloise had kept herself awake half of the night once Calum fell asleep, reciting it in her head, drilling it into herself as if to try and convince herself that it would actually work. Of course, it was going to work, it had to work. They had laid together and figured out what they needed to do in order to construct the downfall of the gang Eloise once considered to be her family.

They were to continue as expected, Eloise would report back to the Kings about her progress with Calum, hand them false information regarding the NYPD’s knowledge of the shipment, claiming that she’s attempting to set up a diversion to distract the police so they can follow through with the capture of the shipment. Eloise would keep Calum in the loop with the details regarding the deal, keeping the tip offs as anonymous letters he would mysteriously find that he could use to strengthen the precinct’s case against the gang.

They had planned for Calum and whoever else he would bring to wait a mile or so out of the boat yard, to wait until a certain time or for a code word to be spoken to indicate that Eloise was ready for them to rumbled. They’d discussed the possibility of her wearing a wire, the details still being hazy as she wasn’t sure if what was the best course of action.

Calum had worked out an escape plan for Eloise, explaining that if she had the chance, she needed to run and hide, expressing his feelings regarding the idea of her being in prison. He had made her aware of a broken fence at the southside of the yard – being familiar with the area – explaining that she could sneak out through there and try to get away. He assured that he would try to prevent her from being snatched up by the police, wanting her to have her chance at freedom instead of being locked in a cell for the rest of her days.

He didn’t want that for her, and neither did she. But he knew it was better than her being shot. Well, he thought it was. Eloise knew, deep down, that she wasn’t going to survive prison if she was put there. No snitches ever lasted long once the word got out. Eloise knew she had two options; she either ran or she didn’t make it out of that boat yard alive. Calum had instructed Eloise to never stop running if she managed to escape, telling her to run and get out of New York as fast as she could, to go somewhere no one would know to look and to start somewhere new, to start again.

It’s all Eloise had ever wanted; to see somewhere new and to have a fresh start. She thought about it more often than not, but now she couldn’t see herself doing that. Not without Calum being included in that new beginning. God, she was getting too attached too quickly. She felt so stupid for thinking they could do that, that they would be able to run away together and build a life somewhere that no one knew their names or knew of her past.

But hey, a girl could dream.

Eloise queried about proof, asking about what she would do if the Gypsy Kings wanted proof of her work with Calum; something to back up what she says, to assure them that she was doing as she was asked. “They’re gullible but not entirely stupid,” She informed him, a soft sigh leaving her chest as she saw the gaze Calum had on her. He looked so helplessly smitten, a lopsided boyish smirk on his face as he watched her lips move with every word; a sight he loved.

“We can arrange a run in or something, make it seem as though we’re out on a walk or we’re on a date and you run into a familiar face in the street. I’ll even let you hold my hand and I can act incredibly loved up if need be, and we’ll play it from there,” His fingers squeezed hers reassuringly, “Honestly, El, you worry so much. We have time to work everything out, we’ve got weeks left,” He was right; the shipment wasn’t arriving for a few more weeks, so they had time to fill in the cracks and build on their plan. Eloise had time to lie, but this time for the right reasons.

She couldn’t stop the teasing smirk on her lips as she let out a coy, “I’m not sure much acting will be required on your part,” Her playful giggle was a sound he wanted to replay, a sound he wanted to save for those lonely nights when he couldn’t sleep. As much as he didn’t want to admit so quickly; she was right. He was so helplessly smitten with her and he didn’t know how to stop, nor did he want to.

Calum tugged her hand gently towards him, requesting for her to move closer to him with a quiet, “C’mere.”. Her eyes never left him as she stood to her feet, moving around the table, arms moving to wrap around his neck as she adjusted herself as she straddled him on the dining chair, the warmth that his hands radiated through the fabric of his shirt that she wore ignited the spark in her stomach again, every nerve ending within her body standing up attentive as she focused on his fingertips, one hand sliding down her waist and resting rather comfortably on the side of her thigh. The textured skin beneath his fingers created an almost uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, his hand moving so his fingers weren’t brushing against where her scar sat. He didn’t ask about it; sensing it wasn’t something she was ready to disclose with him yet. The combination of their hot skin felt like a fire dance, both of them unbearably close to one another and yet both fighting to resist the urge to lose themselves within one another for a second time in the same twenty-four hours. God, the things that boy could do with the simplest look.

The difference in Eloise was almost monumental, a change that she never thought would happen, the speed of such a transformation unsettling her ever so slightly. She had gone from being a closed book, a locked chest at the bottom of the ocean with no key in sight. She was so apprehensive when it came to her feelings before; locking them away until they clawed at the cage to get out momentarily before she found control again and regained stability once more, but since Calum stole her table at the bar that night, she found the security around her emotions beginning to chip away.

From what started off as a mere throwaway fling – a failed one at that – to a game for selfish personal gain, to where they stood now; it was something that knocked Eloise for six. It was all supposed to be fake, something she would forget even happened in a months’ time but in reality, it was an experience that had changed her life. From how she started with a simple sexual attraction to a good looking stranger in a bar, she had developed true feelings and what felt like an emotional connection; one that she knew she wouldn’t feel anywhere else to the man who’s heart she could hear beating in her ears as she sat with merely inches between them.

Her fingers snuck into the back of his hair, fingertips curling around the locks that coiled at the nape of his neck, a gentle smile across her lips as she just looked at him, admiring everything she could see as she sat in the silence. Voices in her head fought for pride of place, a million questions being thrown around that she tried so desperately to ignore.

Would she come to regret letting her heart make this decision; to allow herself to become an open book and allowing for someone, especially someone who she was supposed to have a hatred for, to read every metaphorical word that itched across her skin as it told her story? There was no definite answer, not one that Eloise could feel confident in giving herself, but that didn’t stop her from silently begging – praying – for it to never be the case.

The way his blunt nails were dragging along her thigh were distracting, the tickle from his fingers sparking a smirk from her as he slowly pushed the fabric of his shirt up, eventually allowing it to bunch at her hips as she sat perched in his lap. With a raise of her eyebrows she quipped, “And what do you think you’re doing?”. She pursed her lips a little, the slight action urging Calum to kiss her again, the internal battle he was having with himself over if he should just carry her straight back into the bedroom was painful, the urge feeling as though it was primal.

Eloise’s dark eyes watched as his Adam’s apple worked in his throat, the expenditure of his neck tempting her to coat it in colourful markings again like she had the night before, the light bruises beginning to take their true form as the colours contrasted against his brown skin. There was no other way she wanted to spend her time, other than being wrapped up in his sheets, dead to world as she lay with him. She wanted to forget the plan ever existed, her eyes only focusing on the god in front of her.

“I think it’s about time I show you just how beautiful I think you are,” His let the words fall in a mesmerising breath, as if he didn’t even give himself time to think them over, it being the first thought that came to him when he looked at her. “I want to cherish every single inch of you,” The whisper was deep, the little pause between those three words that rang in Eloise’s ears not going unnoticed alongside the hint of a groan lingering in his throat as he rolled his lips into his mouth almost painfully, the animal inside of him stirring at the sensation of her sitting on top of him. His desire to ravish her was too strong that he couldn’t fight it any longer, just like he couldn’t last night, he couldn’t hold himself together around her, not once he saw that side of her.

Eloise bit back the moan that fought to leave her, biting her tongue to try to silence it, as if to try and fight the effect his words had on her. Although she knew, there was no way in hiding what he did to her, knowing he could feel it just like she could. The sensation of his fingers playing with the elastic of her underwear only spurred her on, causing her to work harder to prevent the pleasurable noises that Calum wanted to hear so badly. The only sound she could muster the strength to make was a simple whimper, her voice shaking as her eyes slowly closed and her lips connected with his own.

“Then prove it,”

She knew she was done for; a complete mess of limbs and noises at the hands of a man who knew exactly how to treat her. And she couldn’t feel better about it than in that moment.

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