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[01zfan]

should’ve told me | l. at

fwb!fratboy!anton x fem. reader | 6.1k words

my anton anon’s this one is for y’all

contains: friends with benefits, reader denies feelings, pining, love confessions, unprotected sex

you kept anton around for longer than you should have. you’re grown enough to admit that you should’ve let him down easy a long time ago, probably after the first time you hooked up. 

it was as innocent as any hookup could be, one thing leading to another once you and anton were done with your class project. he had pleasantly surprised you with how smart he was. when he wasn’t surrounded by his stupid fraternity brothers he was also pretty sweet. and he was tall, with a pretty smile that took up his whole face. he ended up in your dorm and it was just the two of you, and you hadn’t touched anyone intimately in a long time. when he pressed his body close to yours and you felt his strong broad chest he covered up with hoodies you didn’t stand a chance. you fucked anton on your tiny twin bed, the cheap wooden frame creaking underneath your shared weight. 

the worst part was that he was so good at fucking you. it was truly always the quiet and shy ones. the same anton whose face went all red when he had to talk in front of the class pressed your body deep into the mattress and left marks all over your neck. the same anton that had to join a fraternity to make friends was incredibly bold, his sweet voice telling you how wet and tight you were. but he was sweet nonetheless, saying gentle praises when he hit a spot deep inside of you and shyly admitted that he had thought about what you would feel like wrapped around him.

although his words were sweet, his actions were rough from the strength and size of his body. when he bent his legs while chest to chest with you he unknowingly pushed your legs upwards, almost making your knees touch your stomach. you moaned while taking it all, loving the feeling of anton accidentally manhandling you. anton didn’t know how strong he was until he flipped you over with ease, apologizing in your ear for surprising you. you immediately forgave him, even taking the extra step to tell him he can do whatever he wants to you. what he wanted was to make you cum over and over again until you were near tears.

you two spent the next couple hours going at it, both of you missing your last classes for the day. when anton finally finished on your ass the sun was setting, bathing your tiny dorm room in sunlight. anton’s hot pants fanned your ear while the sun continued to set. you wanted to see his face, see if he still got shy right before reaching his peak, or how the sun would light up his brown eyes. when he pulled out and jerked himself off over you, you craned your neck to try and see him. all you got was a view of his toned stomach, his muscles tensing underneath the taut skin. you had to settle for the sound of anton’s quiet whimpers and the feeling of his hot cum on your ass and thighs. you were nearly out of it yourself, two orgasms deep before anton let himself go.

anton came to his senses quickly and apologized for the mess he made. his stamina seemed to double yours, getting control of his body fast while your limbs still felt like jelly. he got down from your loft bed, going over the side instead of wasting time with the stairs. he came back quickly with paper towels and a cold water bottle from your mini fridge. he cleaned you up while you drank the water, hoping your roommate took notes for you in class.

when anton was done he pressed kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder blades. he had gone back to his shy and reserved self, nothing like the man that was fucking you into your mattress or jerking himself off over your ass a few minutes prior.

“did you cum?” anton asked quietly.

anton was too cute for his own good. you turned around to see anton sitting at the end of your bed looking at you expectantly. his face lit up immediately when you told him yes, and when you told him you finished multiple times it looked like his head was going to explode. anton closed the space between the two of you, kissing you on the lips. it caught you off guard, a passionate kiss on the lips being the most intimate thing you’ve done all day. when you pulled back, anton did too.

“i’m sorry.” anton said immediately.

you shook your head and smiled at anton. 

“just surprised me is all.” you said.

you could tell anton wanted to kiss you again. but you sat on the other end of the bed, trying to figure out why your heart was doing backflips now. you were saved by the custom ringtone of your roommate calling you.

you looked away from anton’s flushed face and his swollen lips, letting him catch his breath while you answered the call.

“hey yunjin.” you said. 

you motioned for anton to get off his bed and he did so immediately, handing you your clothes. he was moving frantically for some reason, much more rushed to get dressed than you were. 

“do you have a guest over?” 

her voice over the phone was high and flirtatious. yunjin knew who it was too, the shy boy in your class you always said hi to when you passed by him.

“why? are you at the dining hall?” you asked. 

you threw on your shirt without bothering to put on a bra. it was cold enough you’d be wearing multiple layers anyway.

“heading over there now. i’ll meet you there?”

you could hear the shuffling of people and yunjin putting her stuf faway. you must’ve barely missed class being dismissed. you quietly thank anton for handing you your underwear and pants off the floor. you pressed the phone to your ear using your shoulder while you put your pants back on.

“okay. i’ll see you in a little bit.” you said.

there was silence only for a moment on the other end of the line. you could practically see yunjin on the other end of the line with a smug look on her face while she exited the classroom.

“oh and tell anton i said h—”

you hung up before yunjin could finish her sentence. you could see her loudly laughing to herself in the hallway. 

you let your phone rest on your chest a moment before looking down, seeing anton fully dressed with his backpack slung over a shoulder. you got down from the bed yourself, feeling his hand on your back as if you hadn’t gone down the ladder a million times before. 

on your way to your door you felt anton trailing a little too close to you. when you made it to the door you put on a pair of slip ones, watching anton watch you. you smiled again, the way he was trying to be so inconspicuous about it all.

“what’s so funny?” anton asked shyly. 

he smiled big at nothing, giving you an eye smile while you put on your shoes.

“you’ve been jumpy ever since we did it. i feel like you want to ask me something.” you said. 

you grabbed your jacket off of the coat hanger by the door and slip it on. you stuff your phone, wallet, and keys into the pockets, checking that you have everything. anton still stares at you, trying to find the words to talk to you.

“do you want to eat at the house?” anton asks.

you raise your eyebrows at anton asking you to come over to his frat house before opening the door. anton shakes his head quickly, realizing it could be taken a different way. he’s goes back to following behind you in the small corridor of your dormitory. he readjusts his backpack as he leans his body forward, a height advantage so he can be closer to your ear.

“maybe we could talk about what just happened.” anton says quietly.

you remain silent while you walk through your building. anton follows you through the twists and turns of the hallways. when you make it to the elevator anton stands behind you, rocking on his heel while you continue to say nothing. 

when you make it outside the building you pull anton to the empty outdoor area that surrounds your building.

“i’m not hanging out with you at your frat, anton.” you say.

you tried not to sound too harsh, but you saw anton’s face flash with pain. his hand tightened around the strap of his backpack while he started looking everywhere else but at you. 

you thought it would be a one and done thing with him. you knew how frat boys got down, fucking girls once and then ditching them. the reputation of his frat brothers reputations preceded them, but it seemed like anton was different. maybe that’s why you told him that you wanted to sleep with him again. you kissed him on the cheek and said you wanted to see his face next time, leaving him alone in the courtyard of your building before heading to the dining hall. 

you had said those words to anton only in hopes to stun him long enough that you could walk away. but as the week went on and you thought about how he felt against you, you caved. you couldn’t stop yourself from hitting up anton again. you texted anton during class as he zealously took notes.

hey.

you watched him continue to write on the paper, alternating between looking at the board and his composition notebook

yunjin is sleeping at her boyfriends place tonight

ill be all alone :(

you loved the rush you felt seeing anton peak at his phone underneath the table. when he saw the text his eyes scanned the classroom until he found you. you smiled at him and waved, giving him your most innocent look. anton dropped his pencil on his notebook to put both of his hands underneath the table to text you back.

you don’t talk to me for a week but you hit me up for sex?

anton tucks his phone back into his pocket before going back to look at the board. he puts his head in his fist, facing his head away from you.

isnt that what this is

anton stayed in the same position, not looking at his phone.

pleaseeeee antonnnnnn

anton went back to his phone and you could see his shoulders slightly raise. he must’ve been laughing at your pain and desperation.

anton didn’t reply to your text but when lass dismissed he approached you after throwing everything into his backpack. you stay seated at your desk, looking up to anton who stands on the other side. he looks the same as he did outside of your courtyard, a single strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

“you wanna walk together?” anton asked.

anton hated that you didn’t want more from him. but he loved the way you smiled at him from your seat and the way you bounced happily all the way to your apartment with him standing behind you. he loved when you grabbed his hand once you entered the safety of your dorm room, and how you rode him on the beanbag next to your bed. anton loved that you couldn’t even wait to get him on your bed and how you became a babbling mess above him. the night ended with anton fucking up into you while he easily held your hips in place. anton loved looking at your face the most, and then feeling your sweaty body slump against him when you were all spent. anton wrapped his arms around your body and continued to fuck you until he was spent. he asked you if you wanted to go to the dining hall after you got dressed, or go on a walk with him. you looked at anton like he was crazy before crawling up to your bed, saying you were tired.

you wanted to use sex with anton as a treat, only having him after a stressful week or when you did really well on a test. but anton became an addiction neither of you wanted to handle. at your worst you were calling him everyday, asking if he could swing by your dorm to help you with something while yunjin was out. that something was the aching between your thighs, and you found out early on that anton was the only one who could satiate you. 

anton hated that you only wanted him for sex. if he had told any of his fraternity brothers they would’ve been confused. having no strings attached sex with a beautiful girl was an ideal situation. but anton wanted more. he wanted to hold your hand in public and walk around with you on campus. anton knew that you were focused on school, and him confessing feelings would complicate your situation, or worse lead to you calling your arrangement off completely. so anton settled for being there when you needed him, responding to your late night texts by knocking at your door in just gray sweatpants and a hoodie. he settled for abiding by your stupid rules, and he settled for giving you dick whenever you asked, whether it was a quickie before your roommate got back or a large warm hand over your clothed pussy while you studied in the library. it wasn’t all anton wanted, but he reveled in the fact that in those moments you only thought of him.

anton swore he could see you slowly getting attached too. sometimes when he’d come into your dorm you’d get on your tiptoes to kiss his nose sweetly, or throwing on his hoodie after sex like you didn’t have clothes of your own. he loved seeing you in his clothes and he knew you loved it to some degree too, stealing a few of his hoodies to keep in your closet. 

you remember when you started craning your neck so anton could kiss your lips during sex. you were the first one to set the boundary to avoid kissing on the lips, too intimate for just being sex buddies. but he had you in missionary and made you feel so full. anton found his way around the kissing rules by pressing his lips to your cheek and forehead before going to your neck. anton found out that sucking on your neck made your mind short circuit, making you completely forget that he was breaking the rules you set. but you were the one that pulled anton’s head from the crook of your neck when he pushed into you slowly.

“kiss me anton.” you whined.

anton wasted no time making out with you while thrusting into you slowly. your spit tasted almost as sweet as your slick and anton spent the rest of the night trying to memorize how your mouth felt. he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to kiss you like this again.

honestly, it was cruel how you kept him around without telling you how you felt. you figured that if you spent enough time ignoring your feelings for anton they’d subside, and maybe he’d stop liking you too. neither of you talked about how you begged for his kisses last night, but he didn’t care as long as you kept letting it happen. 

it had been three months since you started your arrangement with anton. three months of him chasing after you and three months of you ignoring him and your own feelings. anton stopped answering to your texts as often and he stopped asking you to hangout outside of sex. you  knew that anton was losing interest and it made you panic. you hated to admit that you would miss more than just sex if he stopped talking to you. so your dynamic had change over time. it was you showing up to anton’s door late in the middle of the night now. 

when anton opened the door you gave him your brightest smile, trying to get the same one back. you felt your heart drop when he only gave you a small one back, making enough space for you to come inside the frat house. when you tried to give anton a kiss on his cheek he turned away, walking up the stairs to his room. now it was you that trailed behind anton with a white knuckle grip on your overnight bag, feeling like you weren’t wanted. anton was still sweet to you, moving behind you to lead you to his room like you had forgotten.

anton was still a really good host, he made sure to clean his room top to bottom each time he knew you were coming over. he put on quiet music for you and ambiance lighting, a warm and dim orange light to not be too presumptuous. anton was confusing to you, the way he seemed like he didn’t care but was nicer to you than you were to him.

anton had made his way to the couch in his room, sitting right in the middle. you dropped your bag and took of your shoes, walking to stand in front of him. anton went into his seat further, leaning his head to rest on the back of the couch. anton had a hand on his thigh and the other along the back edge of the couch as he looked up at you. he was so nonchalant you felt yourself scrambling.

“i missed you.” you said. 

you reached out a hand to him but anton didn’t grab it, only rubbing up and down his thigh. 

“you could’ve said hi to me in class.” anton said calmly.

it was true. you both knew it was. but you had to keep up appearances and for some reason pretend like you didn’t spare anton a second glance outside of the bedroom. anton spread his legs slightly as he settled more into the couch, looking you up and down. with that hat on it was hard to tell what anton was looking at, if he was staring at your face or your body. you bent down until your hands rested on his shoulder, trying to look into his eyes. you took off the hat he wore and anton brought the hand resting on the back of the couch to push back his hair. 

anton stared back at you with a look that made your stomach do flips. anton’s eyes stayed locked on yours, checking for a change in your expression he brought his hand that was on his thigh to your hip, slightly pulling you onto the couch. you straddled anton, hands picking at the material of his sweatshirt. now that you had seen the body underneath the sweatshirts you felt yourself going a little crazy, especially how he wore nothing underneath. you could see his collarbone, dressed with a fading pink mark from the last time you two met up. you continued to fiddle with the fabric of anton’s sweater, waiting for him to say something to you. you found yourself driven by his voice in bed lately, the way he would softly guide you through the motions or tell you sweet things. one of your hands drifted down his body, resting over his hand on your hip.

“i’m taking bahiyyih to the social.” anton said. 

you had to control your expression, hiding the twinge of pain you felt at the thought of anton with another girl. the fact that he said it so casually made it hurt even more. you knew you didn’t have the right to be mad—it made sense. bahiyyih was in the sister sorority and you had declined anton’s invitation. but you thought it meant he would go alone, just like he did for the last social. now he was going with a girl that could possibly have a crush on him. you bit back the jealousy, bringing anton’s hands that were on your waist to the buttons of your shirt. 

“she’s a sweet girl.” you say after clearing your throat. 

anton hums in agreement as he undoes your buttons. he looks at your shirt, more and more of your skin becoming exposed to him. he wished that he was going with you, only asking bahiyyih after he was pressured into finding a date. you were right, she was a sweet girl. but she wasn’t you.

when your shirt was off you noticed that anton didn’t help you out of it like he usually did. his hands went back to your hips while you shimmied out of your shirt and bra. anton’s eyes that were usually glued to your chest looked at the skin on your neck, running a gentle hand along your collarbone. everything that usually made anton tick wasn’t working, and you could feel yourself slowly going insane.

“take off your pants for me?” you asked.

you hated that your voice sounded meek at the command. anton listened regardless, lifting you and his hips so he could pull his pants down. his dick was still hard as it rested against sweatshirt. you grabbed his length, giving him a few pumps to gauge his reaction. anton did let out a content sigh, but he didn’t look down to see your hand wrapped around his dick. his eyes were scanning your face, his hand going to your face. you awkwardly stand from anton’s lap to rid yourself of your own pants.

anton follows your lead as you situate yourself on his couch. you try to think what position would be best, maybe you shouldn’t see his face tonight. you go on your hands and knees and anton slots himself between your legs, a large hand resting on your ass cheek to spread your folds. you hear anton spit on his length and hear him pumping his dick before he lines it up to your entrance. this is the part where anton would lean over and kiss your shoulder blade, but instead he just slowly pushes himself into you. the stretch with no prep is painful, but you take it anyway. anton barely makes a sound when he is in all the way, only the sound of his breath coming out slightly labored filling your ears. you look behind you to get a glimpse of anton, and he stares at your back. 

“talk to me anton.” you are practically begging him to give you something.

instead he pulls out, of you and sits back on the couch. you turn back around to face him, trying to cover up your body. anton’s face is in his hands as he slightly shakes his head.

“i’m sorry. i can’t do this anymore.” anton apologizes.

you wish you could disappear.

“did you not like it?” you ask quietly.

“no, i just,” anton looks up from his hands to look at you, feeling genuinely sorry that you look so dejected. ”i just can’t keep having emotionless, no strings attached sex with you.”

“i thought you didn’t like me anymore.” you said

anton looks at you with confusion before shaking his head again.

“i tried to stop it but i can’t,” anton looks for your clothes on the floor of his apartment. he can’t bring himself to look at you, or to outwardly tell you goodbye. “maybe it’s for the better.” he says

“i don’t want to stop being with you.” you respond. 

there is a lump in your throat that materializes out of nowhere, growing in size when you see anton looking for your clothes.

“i can’t do just sex.” anton says back to you. “i need more.”

“with bahiyyih?” you ask.

for the first time in your life, you see anton get visibly annoyed. you randomly mentioning a girl almost has him yelling out loud in anguish. how could someone like you be so smart and so stupid at the same time. his hand goes to his temple to rub it slightly, and he closes his eyes.

“not with bahiyyih.” anton says quietly.

it was in front of your face the whole time, offered to you on a silver platter. you ignored it each time. maybe you didn’t deserve anton. but he was about to leave your life forever if you didn’t do something about it.

“i want more than just sex.” you blurted out. “i want more, too.”

anton’s eyes got wide while he looked to you. he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, how sincere your voice sounded. 

“i like you anton. i don’t know why i’m so scared to tell you.”

anton not saying anything back to you caused your mouth to begin running. you couldn’t stop yourself from being uncharacteristically honest with him. 

you felt stupid until anton held your hands in his, looking deep into your glazed eyes to see if you were lying.

“do you mean it?” anton said simply.

if you said another word, you were sure you would cry. so you nodded your head and closed the gap between you and anton. it was a quick and simple chaste kiss on his lips, but both of you knew what the kiss really meant. the war was over, and your contract of no strings attached was finally null and void.

anton smiled before kissing you the same way you kissed him. anton pecked your lips over and over as he lead you to his hips again. you go back to straddle his hips but anton doesn’t let you settle before he picks you up.

“wanna be my girlfriend?” anton asks.

you smile like an idiot in love and nod your head.

“wanna be my boyfriend?” you ask back.

you can feel the heat on your face as anton nods his head and smiles. he leans into another kiss while smiling, loving the feeling of your lips against his.

anton walks you over to the bed and lays you down on the sheets. the word slides off his tongue perfectly. anton doesn’t waste a second before crawling above you. his hand rested by your head while he hiked one of your legs up. he placed a strong kiss to your lips, one that left you lifting your head so it would take longer to break. anton looked down the space between your two bodies, his dick sitting upright looking for stimulation. anton lowered his body until it was resting on yours, almost crushing you with his weight. he bent his legs until his tip found your founds. 

anton used his dick to shallowly thrust through your folds, loving the sound of slick and his sticky tip interacting. he loved hearing your whines as he teased you, and seeing your squirming hips as you tried to get his dick inside of you. anton kissed your cheek and you only tried to kiss him back a beat later, your mind preoccupied with all the teasing. anton used the arm on your leg to drag you down slightly, bringing your hole closer to him.

“you’re not just saying you like me so i’ll keep fucking you like this right?” anton asked.

you shook your head immediately, heart hurting at the tiny amount of pain you detected in his voice.

“i like you alot anton,” you loved the feeling of the confession rolling off your tongue. you wished you had said it sooner. “i like you so much.” you repeated. 

“good.” he kissed your cheek again. the tip of his dick was prodding at your entrance, and you couldn’t stop pulsing. “can i fuck my girlfriend now?” he asked.

anton asking you something so lewd with the gentle and airy tone in his voice nearly left you in tears as you nodded your head like an idiot. anton pressed a deep kiss to your lips, sticking his tongue in your mouth in the same moment he slid into you. you could barely kiss him back, moaning at how full you felt. you fought to keep your eyes open, loving the view of anton’s large body above you and his big eyes that were full of adoration. you can’t believe you almost let yourself lose him. anton must’ve felt the same, because he pressed his lips to your forehead before going into the crook of your neck. he pulled all the way out and slid back in, so slow you could feel every vein and every twitch of his dick. you walls spasmed around his thick dick, causing anton to groan into your ear when he tried pulling out.

“can you feel me?” anton asked. 

he had a sarcastic twinge to his voice, like you weren’t almost struggling to take all of him. 

“yes,” you pulled back your hips to meet anton’s slow thrusts. “your dick feels so nice.” you whimpered.

“your pussy is wet and tight,” anton licked the shell of your ear before blowing cool air on it. “all for me.”

he pulled his head from your neck to watch himself disappear into your pussy. he pulled all the way out, messing up the tempo he set, all so he could watch it again. anton’s body shivered against yours, you brought your hand to the nape of his neck to play with his hair.

“it’s a perfect fit.” anton said.

he sounded astonished, seeing how well you took him and feeling the sensation of you closing in around him.

”so perfect.” you agreed.

you loved the puffs of hot air you felt on the shell of your ear and your neck, the way it was followed by anton’s tongue licking the area. these were the motions you guys have gone through a million times before, but knowing that anton was yours now and you were his heightened everything.

“i’ve wanted you like this for so long.” anton breathed into your ear. 

“you should’ve told me.” you whined out.

anton’s hair was soft in your hands, his locks tickling your knuckles. you gripped his hair to only lightly tug on it, you preferred just feeling an extension of him in the palm of your hand. anton laughed against your neck, pulling his lips from a forming bruise with a gentle pop.

anton put his arms around your and sat up, bringing your body up with him. he manhandled you into a new position, one where you were both facing eachother and sitting up. you had never seen anton from this angle before, having to lock eyes with him while he fucked up into you slowly. his hand on your side next to your chest helped you stay up in the air so you had to do little to no work. his large hand on your side covered most of the area, his hand accidentally teasing your sensitive nipples. when anton saw your face change from the slight stimulation he experimentally moved his fingers that pressed into your boob. you let out a sigh from the feeling, and anton looked up to you before jutting out his bottom lip.

“why didn’t you tell me?” anton pouted.

you weren’t sure what he meant until he took your entire areola into your mouth. you clenched around him tightly, and he let you set the pace for riding him. feeling anton’s tongue expertly flick over your nipple drove you insane. you were bouncing on his dick faster than you ever had, feet planted on either side of his body to give yourself more leverage. you made sure to not go to high, so anton could keep your tit in his mouth. 

anton loved seeing you bounce on him with a new vigor. he had never seen you perform quite like this when you were only his fuck buddy. but now that you were his girlfriend you rode him with a purpose, and a tiny voice in anton’s head told him that you had to be trying to get pregnant. anton would have to wait to tell you how bad he wanted to give you a child, one with your beautiful smile and personality. he let his teeth graze the sensitive skin of your nipple. you whined and leaned your body back, fingernails digging into the skin of anton’s shoulder.

“so good anton. so good.” you praised.

anton moved to your other breast after wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to him. he needed you as close as possible when you came, and he needed to see your face as he did it. anton separated his mouth from your nipple only to sloppily lick the areola. this was his first time playing with your breasts so extensively and he was already obsessed with it. the way the supple skin melded into his lips and how reactive you were to it. he loved the way you pet his head gently as he sucked on your chest, biting your lip to hold back high-pitched whines when he did something new.

anton reluctantly separated from your chest when he felt your hips begin to slow. you were not an athlete by any means, your legs already burning from riding anton for only a few minutes. luckily, your boyfriend was here for you. so he let you rest on his strong thighs while he slowly pulled back his hips to fuck you slowly again. anton would’ve continued with your fast pace but he needed to bask in the moment, to not get distracted by keeping up the fast speed. 

this seemed to effect you more, making you pull his body into your chest as you moaned loudly. the feeble attempts to be quiet was long abandoned, and anton loved that. he wanted his whole frat house to hear how good your boyfriend was making you feel. he could feel the vibration of your voice through your chest, the sound slightly muffled on one side because of how tightly you were pulling him in.

when you were getting close, you pulled anton from your chest and moved your hands to his face. he looked into your blown out eyes and you looked into his. he ran his tongue over his swollen lips before you let out a prolonged moan.

“anton i’m close.” you whimpered.

only then did anton let himself slam your body down on his. he loved the way your voice shook when he got a little rougher. he was still just as slow as he let out a groan.

“fuck,” anton pulled you back down on him again. “me too.” he grunted.

“can you do it inside?” you asked. 

your voice had gotten quiet and breathy. anton smiled and nodded before kissing your lips. you were too cute when you were shy.

anton brought you down one more time before you crumbled into his arms. you used the remaining amount of your energy to try and overpower anton, needed to feel him fully inside of you while you uncontrollably spasmed around him. you could feel your cum seep around his dick and anton leaned back to watch you swivel your hips trying to get him deeper inside of you. it was pitiful and beautiful, seeing his girlfriend chase her pleasure like that. 

seeing you high off of him made him follow closely after you. anton gripped your ass and panted into your chest while he shot ropes of cum directly into you. it caught him by surprise, it left him a whimpering mess while his head resting on your chest. when you rose your hips to come back down it was his turn to exert his strength, easily keeping you in place while he continued to whine out your name over and over again. you continued to milk him and anton felt like he was cumming for centuries. 

he brought you down with him to the bed, both of you panting. you rested on anton’s chest and felt him squirm underneath you from stimulation as he pulled himself out of you. your hole continued to seize around nothing, still coming down from the high anton brought you to.

the sweat on your chests was cold on your skin by the time you regained your sanity. anton’s hand traced shapes on your back, and you shivered when he lightened his touches more and more. you heard shuffling outside, probably the sound of his fraternity brothers moving around the house. 

you looked up at anton from his chest and smiled when you saw he was already looking at you. he pinched your cheek and you kissed his chin. you moved some of his hair from his face and he kissed your hand once you were done. you sighed contently feeling his body underneath yours, resting your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat.

“so you’re gonna take me to the formal right?” you ask, smiling against his skin.

[dwaekkicidal]

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ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: After finding what Stray Kids' closest female friend really does with their leader behind closed doors, Jisung and Changbin decide they want in too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 6.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, slight angst before the first divider? But it gets resolved like immediately, fluff, nicknames used: 'baby girl, bunny, jagi(ya), and baby,' ot8✗reader mentions but smut is written for 3racha✗reader, Changbin has a fat crush on u, Chan✗reader action, Changbin✗reader action, some m✗m action: Chan✗Jisung mentions, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, rough sex, (1½) pvssy slaps, hair pulling, overstimulation (?), readers a brat for 2 seconds, Channie is referred to as “Daddy” and Changbin as “Sir”, p in v, creampie & no protection (don't be silly wrap ur willy also pee after sex pls), blowjobs, a handjob, I think thats it?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: an audio I heard a few weeks ago inspired this... I actually have no clue how this came out of that audio but you’re welcome (or I'm sorry)

MDNI!! smut below the cut

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PSA: Sorry if you find this annoying, but I put so much yapping talking that I was only comfortable posting this with color-coded dialogues: If you hate it let me know so that I don’t do it again, but it kinda worked out so I kept it in instead of adding a million more words for nothing

Chris | Binnie | Hannie | You

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You’re currently sitting in Stray Kids’ studio at the JYP building. Chris sits beside you in the other office chair at the desk, while Changbin and Han sit on the couch. Both staring holes into your heads as yours stare on the floor in embarrassment. They just walked in on you and Chris fucking in the studio, right in the very chair Chris was sitting in.

Speaking of, you see in the corner of your eye as he rubs his hands all over his face in frustration, his ears a very bright red. “Listen.. Normally we wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that in a public setting.. But I didn’t know you two were coming today and we got carried away..”

You glance up to see Changbin frown at the older boy, his eyes full of anger. You look over and check on Jisung, his eyes glossy. You furrow your eyebrows and lift your head fully. “Hannie..” You start, but immediately give up on your sentence when you see Changbin’s eye snap his eyes to you, the anger still prominent.

“Okay well… I don’t think that's the problem here… Do what you want, hyung. It’s your life..” Han starts, staring at you for a moment before continuing with a deep breath. “But you know how both of us feel about her. Hell. How the entire group feels about her. You have to see this from our point of view.”

Chan fixes his posture at the sentence and you look between the boys with pure confusion on your face. “Huh??”

“In my defense, I didn’t know how you guys felt until we were already messing around. We had already agreed on this arrangement months prior to the first person saying anything.”

“Arrangement?” Binnie says with the most attitude you’ve ever seen come out of him.

“We’re not dating.. We’re just…. friends with benefits. Sex with no extra emotional strings attached.” Chan sighs loudly, rubbing the back of his neck and continuing. “In all honesty, me and her talked about including you guys but we were afraid it would ruin things. Ruin the group as a whole.”

You start to feel frustrated, they're talking as if you’re not even in the room and when that's mixed with the ruined orgasm you just had, you can't help but get annoyed. “Hello?? I’m still here by the way. Can one of you tell me what the fuck is going on before I leave.” You narrow your eyes at the three of them and cross your arms. They’re caught off guard at your tone, you’ve never spoken to them in any tone outside of a sugary sweet one with pretty doe eyes. Even Changbin’s demeanor falters before he cracks his own neck. “Bunny. You haven’t noticed anything odd? How Hyunjin paints you every chance he gets? How Yongbok gives you all kinds of sweets and says that he ‘baked too much’? Not even the princess treatment that SEUNGMIN of all people gives you?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him before sputtering out, “W-Well yes, but I thought that was just normal behavior.”

Han lets out a tense laugh at that, when you turn to him he decides to continue for Changbin. “Jagiya, we don’t even do these things with each other… all of us are pretty in love with you. We have been for a long time to be honest. Though.. some of us…” he pauses before stealing a glance at the timid boy beside him. “Some of us fell faster and harder than the others. At the end of the day, you have all 8 of us wrapped around your finger.”

All the attitude and anger in your body is suddenly flushed out, replaced with confusion and surprise, “Wait..” When you think back to what Changbin said, the pieces start to click together. All 3 boys watch your reaction nervously, and Changbin lets out a slight sigh of relief when he sees the gears turning in your head. “She actually had no clue.”

“I tried to not blatantly say anything about it once I found out. But I honestly thought you knew about some of the members, baby girl?”

“I had no clue… I’m so sorry Binnie, Hannie..” You hear Han let out a sigh as your eyes watch Changbin’s, they stare into you less angrily but it makes the hurt more evident. You frown sadly at him and let your head hang, not sure what to do with this situation.

“It’s okay, Jagi. Now that I know you were oblivious about our feelings, I don’t think I’m as upset. More so at Channie-hyung for getting to you before us. But I’ll get over that feeling soon.. I don’t know about him though.”

The man in question’s eyes never leave your form, but he takes Han’s words to heart and takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t know. I’m quite hurt but Han is right. It’s honestly our own faults for not being clear with you.”

His words hang in the air for a while before you fix your posture and look over at Chris, meeting his eyes. He tilts his head at you, but you quickly turn to look between the other boys. “What's going on in your head, pretty?”

“Mm.. Well Channie did already spill the beans on what we spoke about.” You say, looking up at each boy before being met with confusion on each of their pretty faces. You clear your throat before continuing, “About… me being with all of you guys..” You pause once more to gauge their reactions, when you don’t see any negativity you finish your thought: “If you guys are okay with sharing, I don’t think I would mind dating all of you. At the end of the day I have been loyal to you guys anyways... So if everyone is okay with it, it could work.”

Chris’ head snaps to the couch to try and read their expressions. He can see Changbin thinking deeply about it and the faint blush on Han’s cheeks more or less gives him an answer. “Only if you guys are okay with it. I told you already, even before I knew about everybody’s feelings I was easing her into the idea of being with us all, whether that be through dating or her being our mutual friend with benefits.”

Han nods and looks over at Changbin, nervously watching his reaction as he mumbles out an “I’m okay with it.. Only if Changbin-hyung is too.” At the mention of his name, Changbin blinks multiple times to bring himself back down to earth. Once he realizes the outcome of this is in his hands, he gulps and clears his throat. “I… I don’t know..”

“If you need time to think about it, I’ll give you as much time as you need. In the meantime, Chris and I will stop everything we do and we’ll go based on what you guys are okay with.” Changbin furrows his eyebrows and looks at his hyung, who nods in agreement with your promise. “I told you, we spoke about this before. Many times actually. If enough of you weren’t okay with it, we agreed to cut things off completely for the sake of our friendships being more important.”

Changbin slowly nods, “I… I need some time to think about it.” You and Chris nod before meeting each other’s eyes for a moment. “Okay well, we should head home then. The song can wait, we’ve all had a long night.”

Everyone silently agrees and one by one the studio empties. You were the last to leave, but you quickly caught up to Changbin, wanting to have a 1 on 1 chat with him. “Binnie. I really am sorry. If I had known earlier then I wouldn’t have let us do this for so long without involving you guys. I feel horrible.”

He smiles softly at you, placing a hand on your head and massaging your scalp with his fingertips. “I know, Bunny. I’m not really mad anymore, I just don’t know if I can handle sharing you. Jisung and I spoke about it a few times but we thought it wasn’t even on the table.”

You nod and shuffle on your feet. He thinks for a moment before looking at you nervously, “Can you answer a question I have truthfully?” When you nod eagerly he continues, “...If you would date us all, as in all 8 of us.. Could you actually see yourself loving us all equally?”

You bite your lip before laughing nervously, “That’s honestly not even a question to me… I already love you all equally. I wasn’t lying when I said I had been loyal to you guys ‘anyways’. I turned down so many idols and random people on the street because I knew I had you guys. I knew how much I loved you all and I knew wasting time with these people to get over my feelings wouldn’t be worth it. So I sat patiently and waited to see how things would go.”

He lets out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding, letting out a light laugh of relief. “Can I hug you, Bunny?”

“Please.” He smiles and pulls you into his arms, the two of you stay in the embrace until Changbin gets a call from Chan, telling him that the taxi is outside and they’re waiting for him. You say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.

Now we wait..

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A few days pass as normal, and you almost forget about what happened in the studio. When you’re lounging on the couch scrolling through a streaming site, you hear your phone ding a few times and it makes your stomach drop. You drop the remote immediately and in seconds your phone is unlocked with your text messages open.

Your hand slaps over your mouth and you squeal, not being able to contain your excitement, and you spend the next few days excitedly preparing yourself for Friday night.

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When the night comes, you walk into their dorm as if it was any other day. When you meet the eyes of the men sitting at the dining table, you hesitate. All three sets of eyes look up at you, the older boys hold soft smiles while the youngest is biting his lip with red cheeks.

After some time of the awkwardness in the air fading, the four of you talk boundaries. In summary, you all agreed on:

Changbin only wants to fuck you, Chan and Jisung are open to anybody but mainly want you, and you want all 3 of them.

Specific kinks were talked about, but everyone agreed on rougher play for the night, just nothing too extreme yet. Specifically yes to spanks, rough fucking, choking, and hair pulling.

Chris closes it out with a few statements: “If, at any point, you aren’t sure to keep going, we use the traffic light system. Just ask her what her color is and she’ll respond with ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down, and ‘green’ for keep going. And aftercare is a MUST. You don’t give her aftercare, you don’t get her at all.” When the other men agree, he leads you guys to the dining room where the coffee table is already moved to the side.

Before you know it, you’re sitting on their dorm’s couch, shyly playing with the strings on your sweatpants. All 3 men are standing between you and the tv, thanking every god they know that Hyunjin is out of the country for the week. Chan warily looks over his members faces, looking for any sign of hesitation. Instead he’s met with both basically eye-fucking you and Jisung already hard as a rock through his jeans. He laughs to himself quietly before looking over at you, initially looking for an unsure reaction from you as well. But when he watches your eyes jump between the other 2 and you bite your lip, he takes a breath before speaking.

“Since this would be both of your first times with her, I’ll show you all the good spots and how to play with her properly.” You roll your eyes and frown up at him from your spot on the couch. He gives you an amused smile and you watch from the corner of your eye as Changbin grabs a chair from the dining room, placing it in front of the tv so that it faces the couch. Chris swiftly pulls you to your feet before taking a seat on the chair. He pulls you into his lap and makes you face the other 2 men, who are now seated on the couch patiently waiting for the scene in front of them to unfold.

“You ready, baby?” He asked into your neck, his thick lips already placing wet kisses and his hands already pulling at the elastic of your sweats. You make a scene to hold eye contact with both men on the couch before responding to the one below you, “Yes, Daddy.” When Changbin’s eyes widen before he closes them and lays his head back, you giggle to yourself and move your eyes over to Jisung. You hear him groan and class a hand over his mouth, and when he notices your eyes are staring into his wide boba ones you smile innocently and tilt your head at him.

By the time both men recover, Chris is already pulling your sweatpants and underwear from your ankles, then moving his hands to the base of your crop top. He finally breaks away from your neck to pull it off, unintentionally showing off the red marks all over your neck to the couch. As the shirt gets pulled above your head, you hear a gasp from the couch and Chris’ voice against your ear. “And no bra? Baby.. you’re gonna kill them haha..”

You bite your lip and smile before teasing, “If they let themselves die this easily then you can have me all to yourself again.” You almost miss the way Changbin’s eyes narrow with how focused you are on Jisung’s growing pout. You hear Jisung let out a “Hey..” before you laugh and stick your tongue out at both boys. Immediately after, you feel your legs get hooked over Chris’ wide stance. 

He teases you by softly rubbing his hands against your inner thighs, nipping at your neck and ear as he does so. His left hand slowly trails up your stomach until he meets your chest and starts toying with your nipples. The hand still on your thigh trails up higher and higher until you feel him spreading your folds with his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to slide against your clit and down to your hole. You slump against him when you feel him slide two fingers in you, his thumb replacing his middle finger on your clit. You faintly hear Chris say something to the other boys about where they should try to angle their fingers. When he angles his hands the way he describes, it rips a desperate moan from your throat and your legs tighten against his.

Both boys on the couch adjust themselves in their pants at the sight of you spread so widely in front of them, Han nodding enthusiastically with each sentence that comes out of Chris’ mouth. With the fast pace his fingers set, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

You feel yourself getting close and Chris catches on very fast. He pulls his fingers away and lands a smack to your inner thigh before grabbing your chin and raising an eyebrow at you. “Did I say you could come yet? You didn’t even ask permission.” You almost miss Jisung’s moan at the action, but quickly respond with a, “N-No, Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”

He tsks at you before softly running his hands along your thighs again, “Just because I’m showing the boys how to play with you doesn’t mean that our rules aren’t in place. Don’t be a bad girl and make me punish you in front of them already.”

“Yes, Daddy” you whine out as you nod feverishly, your orgasm fading away slowly. He hums before returning his hand to your cunt, playing with your folds as he gets lost in thought for a moment. You sigh and lean your head into his neck once releases your chin.

You almost say something about the lack of stimulation when Chris suddenly pushes you on your feet, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he quickly stands. He sits you on the chair but pulls you down so your ass is hanging off the chair, legs folded into each other as he puts you on display towards the couch. You feel butterflies in your stomach, remembering just exactly what Chris made you do the last time you both were in this position.

You shiver as his fingers softly caress your folds, he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Once he realizes that you knew what his plans were, he bites his lip and smirks down at you. When your lips open to say something, he suddenly returns the 2 fingers inside your hole to prevent words from forming. You guys hold eye contact for a moment, but once his fingers dig into your gummy spot roughly, your mouth opens in a gasp and your eyebrows raise. Your eyes threaten to close as you watch him meanly mimic your facial expression and rub against the spot harder.

Your legs already start to shake and you throw your head back against the chair with a whimper, closing your eyes when the stimulation is a little too much. A firm grip in your hair pulls your face to meet his, he places a gentle kiss to your lips before adding a third finger. He ruts them into your soppy cunt over and over again until you hear him laugh when your eyes slam shut again. You’re sure both boys can hear the wet noises coming from between your legs. You wish you could see their faces, but at this point you figure Chris is trying to put on a show for them so you don’t complain.

“F-Fuck!!! Daddyyy!! I-I can’t..” You cry out, one of your hands meets his and your nails dig into his wrist as your thighs clamp shut. He pulls his fingers out and pins both your hands against the top of the chair with his spare hand. He lands a slap on your cunt and doesn’t give you time to react before he slams three fingers back in and resumes his bullying pace.

He coos at you, pressing a kiss into your calf, “You can, baby girl…” He pauses before positioning his hand so that his palm could bully against your clit with the thrusts. His tone is much darker when he continues, “I won’t stop until you do. So you better give them a pretty view, yea?” You gush more around his fingers as and when you clench harshly, he leans down to push his lips against yours.

At this point, Han has caught on to what Chris is trying to do, and he finally can’t stand the tightness in his jeans so he removes them. He quickly pushes his boxers down and can’t stop himself from fisting his cock at the sight of your cunt and ass on display for them, your wet cunt dripping down your ass as Chris continues his pace. Changbin on the other hand, isn’t fully sure what is going on. But that doesn’t stop him from palming his bulge, biting into the pointer finger on his other hand to keep quiet.

The sounds coming from you somehow get louder and you pant into Chris’ mouth, moaning against his lips as you feel the knot snap in your stomach. Suddenly you squirt all over his arm, squealing into the kiss as Chris rides your high. He fingers into you roughly before giving you a second to squirt more, then forcing more out of you. He repeats this until you pull away from his lips and gasp desperately for air, and he finally slows his hand to almost a complete stop, letting you breathe. He softly slaps your cunt as he pulls away from you fully to admire the mess you made.

“I told you, baby girl.” He laughs, ghosting his hand over your inner thigh as he watches you glisten. He pulls away from you completely, pulling his shirt off in one go and using it to wipe your thighs down and throwing it onto the puddle you made on the floor. He pulls you back to your feet, and holds you up with both hands as your legs shake aggressively, before sitting back down and resuming the earlier position: you on his lap.

He showers your neck and your cheek in kisses as your legs stay glued shut, his thighs making sure of that as they stay against yours. One of his hands holds you against him while the other caresses your hip affectionately. He knows you’re not in this plane of existence from how quiet you are, so he tries his best to ground you with as much physical touch that he can offer.

After a short while, your soul finally returns to your body. You mumble something incoherent and he takes that as a sign that you’re still there. He giggles into your neck, trailing his kisses down to your shoulder. You feel his arms tighten around you before he’s whispering against your skin, “You alright, baby? What’s your color?”

You sigh into his hold and whisper back a “Yellow.. Just give me a minute.”

Once you deem yourself ready, you let him know. He reluctantly loosens his hold on you and clears his throat, placing a final kiss on your shoulder before looking up. “Now that she’s ready for you both.. who wants to play first?” Chris asks as he eyes dart between the boys you completely forgot about. The two in question glance at each other quickly before wordlessly deciding to keep quiet and let Chris choose. Chris nods in understanding before glancing over at the youngest and watching the way he’s slowly fisting his cock as he waits for the next move. Chris very quickly thinks back to the boundaries everybody set earlier and he smirks against your shoulder. He whispers something in your ear, just low enough so neither of the other men can hear it.

But when you smile and slide off Chris' lap, softly crawling towards Changbin on all fours, both boys on the couch suddenly fix their posture. Han almost whines at the thought of Changbin getting you first until he watches the oldest stand up and saunteer towards him. He gulps and looks up at the man, biting his lip when Chris leans down and grabs his chin to hold eye contact. “You still okay with us playing a little bit, Hannie?” Not fully trusting his voice, Jisung nods eagerly and allows Chris to take control, "Please..."

While the two boys to your right get lost in each other, you sit at Changbin’s feet and look up at him with puppy dog eyes. You even go as far as to tilt your head and rest your cheek against his knee. “Hi Binnie~” You whisper out, “Can you play with me? Pleasee?”

He curses under his breath and nods, “Y-Yeah.. Yeah we can play, Bunny.” You smile in response and bite your lip, undoing his jeans before pulling them off his legs. He pulls his shirt off as you leave soft kisses up his thighs. He shudders the closer to his crotch that you get, and breathes harshly when you place a kiss to his dick through his boxers. He sighs when you back away and pull his underwear down just enough so that his dick slaps against his tummy. You pause for a second to admire his width. He’s so hard and his tip has a mean red tint; you’re almost afraid of taking him.

Suddenly the man above you laughs and pulls you up onto his lap, letting his dick rest between you two. He quickly pulls you into a kiss, running his hands up and down your sides softly. Your own hands are running up and down his biceps and squeezing, finally relishing in the feeling of his muscles against your hands. When a hand of his slides down to your ass to squeeze, you smile into the kiss and angle your head so that you are making out even deeper. It’s very short lived however, because the hand that was squeezing your ass pulls back and lands a slap to your cheek.

You jump in against him and pull away from his lips, frowning at him. He laughs at you before landing another to your other cheek. “Those are for the little comment you made earlier about Chan getting you to himself after this.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest and snapping back, “Well soooomebody doesn’t know how to take a joke.” Changbin’s mouth opens slightly and his eyes narrow dangerously at you. If it wasn’t for the fire in your abdomen that grew from his stare, you would have been terrified and apologized right away.

You quickly think that should have been the case when a hand shoots forward and clamps around your neck, squeezing tightly right off the bat. You let out a gargled noise as his other hand lands 2 harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, massaging against them right after. “I’m sorry... What was that?”

Jisung and Chris pull a few inches away from each other at the sound. Jisung’s hips buck up into Chris’ hand and he lets out a pathetic whine at the sight of your ass cheeks already turning a darker red. The man above him lets out an exasperated laugh before saying “Oh yeah, I should’ve warned you two that she can be a stupid brat sometimes. I would say I’d teach you how to deal with it, but it seems like you got it under control already. You know what to do, baby. Be a good girl for Binnie, or else I'll handle you myself.” Changbin steals a confused glance at his hyung before returning his gaze to you, loosening his grip on your neck to give you more breathing room. He watches your eyes meet Chan's and you gulp deeply before wresting your hands on his chest.

“‘M sorry Binnie. I’ll be good now I promise.” His hand loosens the grip on your neck you all the way at your puppy dog eyes stare into his, but they stay resting against your throat as Chris speaks up again. “Not ‘Binnie’ baby.” Your eyes meet Chris’ again and he smiles at you teasingly, his hands still stroking Jisung at a slow pace that has the boy whining into his hand. You bite your lip at the sight of Jisung looking fucked out already and turn back to Changbin and retry, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll behave now.” You watch Changbin swallow thickly before leaning his head sideways and letting out a curse.

“Atta girl, baby.” Chris says, before turning back to the squirming boy below him.

Changbin quickly mutters an ‘Up’ before you climb out of his lap to stand in front of him. He quickly swaps spots with you, making you sit on the couch as he stands above you, kneeling against the cough to ground himself. He strokes himself a few times, not bothering to prepare you any more than Chan did already. He pulls your legs up and holds them near your chest, and then he finally sinks himself into you. He keeps his eyes on your face the whole time, mainly watching for possible comfort changes in your expression. But when your jaw drops at the stretch and you take over his hold on your legs, he can’t help himself from staring for other reasons. While you’re busy hugging your legs into yourself, he trails a hand to your mouth and positions his thumb to press down on your tongue. With every inch of his duck entering you, you swear you lose another piece of your mind. And after what feels like forever, his hips finally meet the backs of your thighs

He lets out a shaky sigh and lightly thrusts into you, testing the waters before pulling out farther and setting a calm pace. For a while, he softly thrusts into you, just savoring the feeling and sight of your tight cunt around his dick. It’s not until you let out a whine that his eyes return to your face. His hips stutter and he watches in awe as he pulls his thumb from your drooly mouth. While that thumb moves down to draw circles onto your clit, you look up at him pleadingly before begging so sweetly. “Please, Sir. Please I promised I’d be good. Just fuck me hard, please please please.”

From the other side of the couch, Chris’ ears perk up at the sound of your begging. He chuckles breathlessly and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the pretty boy who’s on his knees below him. “F-Fuck. Bin I usually have to overstimulate her for her to beg like that. You must’ve fucked her stupid already.”

Changbin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sentence and he starts up a rough pace, pounding into you fast before responding, “Y-Yeah? You think so?”

You throw your head into the couch at the new rhythm, nails digging into your legs at the stimulation. After squirting like that earlier, you’re not sure you can last very long and that’s made even more true by the sloppy presses you feel on your clit. Not long after this pace was set, you feel yourself rapidly approaching your high.

You manage out a: “Binnie- S-Sir, can I cum please.. I want you to cum inside… I’ve b-been good, right?” and he groans in response, nodding his head and leaning into you, his fingers never leaving your cunt and his pace never faltering. “Yeah, baby. Don’t worry, Binnie’s got you.” His body weight on your legs gives you an uncomfortable stretch, but when his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, you can’t find it in you to complain. Almost immediately after that, his spare hand leaves a slap to your ass, and you cum on impact. Your lips detach from his as you let out desperate wails, trying to take deep breaths while he slows his pace to make slower but deeper thrusts into you. His gaze meets your teary eyes before he dips to your neck, biting and sucking marks onto the skin. He follows suit not long after, groaning and biting harder subconsciously as he rides out his high.

You lay against each other, catching your breaths before you let out a pained whine. “Binnieee… my legs..” His mind is still foggy from that strong of an orgasm, so it takes him a second to pull away. Once he does, he softly rests your legs against the couch and massages the muscles, already knowing which ones would be hurting. He watches your mixtures of cum ooze out of your cunt, and onto the couch. He would normally freak out at such a viscous substance getting the couch dirty, but his zips his mouth shut and watches in awe for a moment. You don’t fully notice when he walks away due to getting distracted by the other end of the couch.

Chris let out a few gasps that turn to groans, signaling that he’s dangerously close. You quickly turn your head to watch as Jisung deep throats him all the way, even gagging a few times. You whine out something along the lines of, “That’s so hot..” but it meets none of their ears as Jisung’s nails rake down Chris’ thighs, his hips buckling as he cums hard. He throws his head back and holds a firm grip on Jisung’s permed hair as he thrusts softly into his mouth, quickly angling his head back towards the boy to watch him swallow around his length. Slowly the grip on the younger’s hair loosens, and you and Chris watch the boy on the floor with lidded eyes. Jisung hollows his cheeks and slowly pulls off the eldest’s dick, he matches the older’s gaze and shows off the contents on his tongue before making a show of swallowing it, showing his empty tongue after. Chris throws a hand over his eyes and whines, resting his head against the back cushion as you sit there and laugh. You and Jisung meet each other’s eyes before you wink at the boy, blowing him a kiss with a fucked out smile on your face.

By now Changbin is returning to the living room with a warm cloth, wiping you down gently before throwing it onto the pile of your clothes. Chris disappears to his room to grab shirts of his for you and Jisung while Changbin throws the scattered clothes of yours into his own hamper, and Jisung’s into his hamper. While the two eldest members run around cleaning, and preparing blankets and snacks for a cuddle session, you and Jisung embrace each other on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder as your breaths even out. You could fall asleep at this point, but you’re quickly distracted by the boy’s bulge in his underwear.

“Hannie… you’re still hard?” You laugh. His cheeks and ears turn red before he laughs too. “Yeah… I came in the beginning, but watching you and Changbin-hyung while watching Channie-hyung come undone got me hard again. It was all just too hot..” You laugh into his shoulder but trail one of your hands to the bulge, trailing a featherlight touch that has the boy’s thighs clamping together. “Can I help you then, Hannie? Me and you didn’t get to play. I can’t go another round but I’ll happily suck you off.”

You hear a shaky breath as his hips buck against your hand. “Fuck,, Yes please, baby.” Giggling, you drop down to your knees for a 2nd time tonight, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. You take it in your hands and pump it, placing teasing kisses up and down his shaft. You smirk against him when you feel his hand slip into your hair, grabbing a tight but not painful grip as a warning to stop teasing. You hum and lick a long stripe until you reach his tip, placing a final kiss there before you take him all the way to the hilt. The grip in your hair tightens as you hum and hold your spot against his pubic bone, some of the hair there tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him a few times before pulling away, stroking him while you rasp out, “You wanna fuck my mouth baby?"

You swear his eyes sparkle as he nods enthusiastically. His hands quickly move to rest against the back of your head, “Hit my thigh a few times if you need a break, ok?” You nod and smile up at him, happy that he still genuinely cares about your well being. Your smile fades as he moves your head against him, slowly fucking your mouth against his dick as he lets out a sigh. You hollow out your cheeks and feel the grip on your head get harder. He starts fucking himself into your throat, using all his will power to not do it as rough as he wanted to, ‘We can save that for another day’ he argues to himself. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his high, his thighs shaking as memories of what happened less than 10 minutes ago resurface to his mind.

He goes to pull you away as he cums, but you swat his hands away and take matters into your own hands, literally. One of your hands trails up his stomach, your nails ghosting around his chest as your other hand reaches up to fondle his balls. It’s all so sudden and he chokes on his own drool when he tries to warn you that he’s cumming, but regardless you swallow every last drop. Once his hips relax back into the couch, you pull back so that only the tip is in your mouth, sucking hard to get every last drop and he lets out the whiniest cry you’ve ever heard.

As the older boys return with blankets and snacks, you and Jisung pull away from each other. Eventually everybody is settled and a movie is chosen, the four of you cuddle up to each other and relax. Han is laying with his head against your chest when he suddenly lets out a laugh that startles your sleepy form. The three of you look down at him with different confused expressions before he chuckles to himself again.

“The others are missing out sooo bad.”

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

[cherubify]

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA / LEON KENNEDY

6.1k words

cw: corruption, stalking, doppelganger themes, dirty talk, attempted sa, dubcon, hints of mindbreak/exhibitionism/overstimulation, fingering, creampie, unprotected p-in-v, use of pet names, fellatio, filming, dead dove do not eat, minors dni

a/n: this was written for an anonie's reqqy! it marinated in my wips for a few weeks (mb!) so it feels kinda off to me + i kept changing the title but.. yeah! n special thanks to my trusted beta reader @xoxostarlet!! <3 ok i'll shut up now but enjoy!

There’s a saying out there– something about how there are more than seven people in the world who share the same face as you. Despite possibly living in a distant community, with a foreign tongue and having one’s own idiosyncrasies, there’s someone out there who resembles you. A doppelganger, is what most people called it, right? Leon hasn’t met anyone who looks like him yet, though he’s heard passersby comment on how he looked like a model whose name was always on the tip of his tongue.

It must be a prank pulled by the heavens when they created people, forgetting to register their creations as solely unique individuals and reusing their faces for a recycled project. At least, that’s what he thinks when he finds yet another film, with its poster girl bearing a striking resemblance to the store clerk. A knowing smile crept up his face as he strolled over to the front desk.

You sat behind a long counter, homework precariously piled up as you scribbled your answers onto the papers. A cash register and your laptop accompanied you on your side. He set his selection of the day beside your papers, prompting you to look up.

“This one again? You borrowed it last week, Mr Kennedy,” you commented with a shaky laugh.

The man on the other side of the counter was an older man with a face and body of strong and hard corners everywhere. He was dressed in grey sweats and a hoodie, the hood draped over his side swept dirty blonde hair. Leon was what he told you to call him, but the desire to maintain personal distance led you to calling him by his family name instead.

“What can I say? It’s a good way to kick my feet up.” His arms were folded on the counter as he leaned towards you.

You snorted inwardly. Yeah, kicking your feet up by getting off to these… morbid tapes, huh? You read the summary of all the films he rented before. They were about dark things you’d never want to be involved in. Random films centred around dark plots, such as Stockholm syndrome, hardcore BDSM and the like. Perfect for twisted people with twisted fantasies. But not for you, you were proud to say you lived a mostly peaceful and non traumatised life, and you would keep it that way.

It’s not that you wanted to kink shame; people could watch whatever they wanted. But having to rent out these tapes to a shameless guy like him was uncomfortable. And he was making you feel even more uncomfortable when he waltzed up to the counter, showing you his findings of the day. What a weirdo. At least act a little embarrassed like the other customers, wouldn’t you?

However, you shoved down your grievances and processed his purchase on the register. Once you finished, you passed both the film and a receipt to him. He took it from your grasp, warm fingers brushing against yours. You immediately withdrew your hand and discreetly rubbed your skin raw against your jeans.

Nothing went unnoticed by him, including your poorly hidden disgust. His lips curled on his face, he knew what you were thinking– most people didn’t relax by renting adult films. If only you knew his true intentions. Why he chose this specific film to rent again.

You jabbed the back of the store with your thumb, attention returning to your homework. Beside the staff room and a tiny toilet, there was another door that led to a room: the viewing room. He entered, closing the door behind him softly. It was furnished the same as always: a family sized couch with cushions. No windows or lights, just a single projector, a screen and speakers. A viewing room to watch the store’s rented shows and only that.

Not that he couldn’t view it at home, but he wanted to do it here. In this room, in the back of a store you had no choice but to man alone. He knew the sounds leaked into the hall and into the sales floor. And the actress in this film had impressively exaggerated moans. Which was why he liked this certain film. He knew your face would be distorted with horror as you struggled to put up with it for the next hour. Plus the second hand embarrassment you experienced when other customers entered (not that there were many to begin with).

He chuckled softly whilst setting up the screening. When it began to play, he slumped onto the couch, arms crossed. He knew you noticed the resemblance you shared with the poster girl. Knew the uneasy glances you’d send him whenever you caught him browsing through the adult film section. It was fun pushing your buttons– seeing your innocent face distort with horror, embarrassment, shame whenever you scanned the films he chose. You certainly noticed the increasing resemblance of all the actresses to you. It was clear as day from the tautness in your smile as you forced out a polite ‘thank you’ when he returned the goods.

He tried to focus on the actress on the screen. A girl who shared the same hair colour and clothing style as you. There were some similarities in your faces, but only as far as the curve of your jaw and the curl of your lips. A mismatch in voice, sure, but when the woman on the screen moaned, he wondered if you replicated such a sound. The thought made him swell a little in his sweats. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

Like the girl on screen, he wanted to bend you over a kitchen table as you wore nothing but a frilly apron and underwear. He’d rip your panties off and bury his face between your perfect butt and-

A knock on the door snapped him out of his daze. He paused the show and it creaked open to reveal you, standing hesitantly. Your eyes shifted from him to the screen, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the darkness of the room. You tried to hide the way your eyes flitted from the screen to him. The same old expression on your face as your bottom lip quivered.

“Um… I can hear everything,” you told him- and he knew, but he listened anyway, “It’ll bother the customers, so please keep it down.”

Or go home. He knew those words were on the tip of your tongue. There were no other customers around (probably) but he smiled anyway and complied, just because you asked nicely. He jabbed the volume button once.

“Sure, but maybe a kiss would convince me, darling.” He called out, but you barely heard it over the creaking of the door as you closed it.

Always running away before he could shoot his shot. Like a game of mouse and cat, a fitting analogy considering how you’d tremble in his presence and flee with your metaphorical tail between your legs. He chuckled and resumed the film, the volume a single decibel lower while you sat at the counter, shaking your head.

In your eyes, Leon was a bit of a troublemaker. You weren’t naive enough to be fooled by his clueless facade. You knew that he got a kick out of the distress he put you in when he played his fine selection for the day. He could go home instead– in fact, you had a right to kick him out. But your boss instructed you to be kind to regulars, such as Mr Kennedy here. So what more could you do besides put on your customer service smile and voice? After all, customers were always right. You’d like to believe that if it weren’t for the amount of trouble he gave you by entering the store. If he pushed any further you were sure to blacklist him from the store for good.

When he came out, you watched hopefully. Hoping that he’d walk out of the door. But then he began searching through the aisles and before you knew it, he set another box onto the counter again. An adult film with its poster girl sitting on a couch sultrily, her hair colour and hair parted the way you did yours. Last time his choice was a girl with the same fashion sense as you. All of his selections consisted of girls that took after you. Quite the strange coincidences, but you chalked it up to just you having run-of-the-mill features.

“Come again,” you grimaced inwardly. You hoped he wouldn't, but when he left he cast you a knowing smile over your shoulder. You groaned aloud, because you knew he would.

You worked at the rental video shop temporarily, home from college for summer break when your pockets were emptier than you recalled. This store was an easy choice, simply because it was right across your apartment complex. The close proximity meant you could just tumble out of bed in the morning and clock in with your pjs. The owner was a decrepit man who was out of town half the time, so he couldn’t be bothered with what was happening except meeting the bare sales requirements.

Retail life was no stranger, but this was the most relaxing it had ever been in your job history. It was a joy working in this store, believe it or not. Truly a pity it was only temporary. No naggy managers or bossy coworkers. Just you and the occasional customer wandering among dusty aisles. Speaking of dust…

You checked the time– a few minutes left before closing. It took a mere second to find Leon, whose blonde’s head peaked above a low row of shelves. You guessed he was sifting through another peculiar genre. So you left him to it as you entered the back and into the staff room. Unbeknownst to you, the front door jingled as someone stepped onto the sales floor.

When you finally returned, you were armed with a step ladder and a duster, the latter missing more than half of its feathers. Despite its haggard appearance, it was clearly not being put to use, apparent from the store’s dust infested furniture. Perhaps the store’s sorry state was a contributory factor for the lack of visitors. You set the ladder down at the front of the store and began dusting from top to bottom.

A cough alerted Leon’s attention to you and he peeked up from the boxes in his hands. You stood precariously on the top, a hand clutched over your nose as you dusted a shelf. From where he stood, he could see cotton peeking from your loose shorts. He set the goods down to grip either side of the ladder’s frame.

“I don’t think this rickety thing’s stable enough for you to use, sweetheart,” he commented, prompting you to look at him. “You should come down before you fall.”

“I’m fine, Mr Kennedy. I’ve got everything under control,” you began cleaning again when you inhaled some dust. Your eyebrows furrowed, then your face crinkled as you sneezed. And ironically you fell. A shout and a thud followed, and you found yourself in his arms.

He had an awkward grip on you, having caught you suddenly with open arms. His arm was wrapped around your thighs and the space below your shoulder blades. The vice grip on the fat of your thighs caused your face to explode with red.

“Oh my god- I’m sorry!” You gasped as you wriggled in his arms, begging to be put down. He yielded and you were onto your feet again. You backed away from him, hands clasped apologetically. “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Are you- are you okay?”

He laughed, and it’s an airy, low sound. The regular crossed his arms and leaned against the ladder. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Y-Yeah. But I guess I should throw this out,” you rubbed the back of your head sheepishly.

“Let me,” he offered and he swiftly walked out with it in tow. The entrance jingled before closing behind him as he disappeared.

You rubbed your arms awkwardly, the heat from your face dissipating as you exhaled shakily. Maybe you were wrong about him. Leon was quite a nice guy. Now, if it weren’t for his weird fetishes, maybe you’d give him a chance. You shook your head. What were you thinking? He was just a customer. You sighed and picked up your fallen duster.

You turned your back to an approaching man. Footsteps behind you prompted you to look up, and you expected a blonde but was mistaken. Your face was shoved against a shelf, the old thing creaked as it leaned back then back onto its corners. Your wrists were held behind you by a gloved hand, and you strained to see the perpetrator but the grip on the back of your head prevented you.

“Just stay quiet and it’ll be over soon,” it was a hushed voice, unfamiliar and muffled. “–be a good girl and stay still.”

“Who are you calling a good girl?” You gritted your teeth and struggled against your captor’s hold. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll-”

“Uh uh–” something cold pressed against your neck. Was that… a knife? “–It’d be better if you don’t struggle.”

You froze as the blade dug into the column of your throat. The stranger released your wrists to wander a gloved hand along the curve of your spine. It hurt to swallow, and you struggled to breathe as the molestor’s hand dipped into your shorts. Was this how your summer break would end? An assault in the store you part-timed in for quick cash?

Your train of thought was derailed when a grunt echoed in the store. The blade was withdrawn and clattered onto the floor, and you whirled around to find a masked man collapsed on the floor. Standing behind him was Leon, who swiftly pocketed a gun into a holster on his belt. You gaped at him– has he always carried that on him?

“Are you okay?” Leon stepped over the body to grip your shoulders. His wide eyes scrutinised your smaller frame. “Did he hurt you?”

You looked at his hands then at him, “I… I think I’m alright.”

The man frowned and studied the unconscious man with a hardened expression. He dialled for the cops and filed a brief report. Afterwards, he dragged the molester outside the store, where he tied his wrists to a lamp post. The man was limp throughout, unconscious from whatever Leon had pulled. You clutched your arms as you sat at the cash register, eyes fixated on the counter.

A first aid kit came into view. Leon stood on the other side, a sheepish smile on his lips. “I found this in the back,” he said softly, digging through it. He produced a disinfectant wipe and a bandaid.

Only when he reached out to you did you notice the wound on your neck. It stung, and you gingerly touched it. Beads of blood sat on your finger. It was a little cut that had bled into the collar of your top. He dabbed the swab of disinfectant against the wound, and you hissed. His hand found yours, and he held it as you squirmed in your seat.

“It’ll sting for a bit, but better safe than sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m not a wuss, I can take it- Ow!” You jumped in your seat when he pushed the swab deeper against the cut. The two of you exchanged a look, and the corner of his lips tilted up in amusement. You kept your eyes on the ceiling, lips pursed.

Then he placed a bandaid over the wound and his fingers ghosted over it. “There. All better,” he sighed.

He withdrew his hand except the one in yours. You ogled at the larger hand in yours, at the way his slender fingers were comfortably interlaced with your shaky ones. Just like two pieces of a puzzle, perfectly slotted into one another. You tried to banish the thought. You exhaled softly, and you squeezed your trembling lips together into a feeble smile.

“Thanks, Leon.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled back. In that moment, he was all you could see. Not the arrival of the police car outside the store or the officers standing by the criminal, but just him.

A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “So I take it you’re dropping the formalities?”

The blonde was referencing how you always called him by his family name and not his first name. You refused to answer, the faint blush on your cheeks sufficed. He squeezed your hand, and you squeezed back.

Leon accompanied you for the rest of the night. He stayed beside you in the police station, drove you back to the store and assisted you in the cleaning duties. Despite the incident, life moved on, and you were responsible for the night duty chores as the sole employee. Areas unaccessible by you were managed by him, and you found yourself appreciating his company. Although he was a creepy regular, he was quite sweet. You didn’t have to force yourself to laugh at his crappy jokes that night.

And though you were pretty sure he shouldn’t know where you lived, you let him accompany you to your doorstep after closing shift. He bid you goodbye with a gentle pat on your head, and you found yourself staring at the place he stood for a while. You sat in your bathtub, hugging your knees to your chest. Water enveloped your body in the cold of midnight, and you leaned your head against the cool tiles. Your eyes were glazed over with tears as you recounted the recent events.

Thank goodness he was there. If Leon hadn’t been there, something terrible would’ve happened. You wanted to see him again. Maybe you’d give him a thank you gift. It’d be only fair, right?

. . .

“What’s business like this week?” He enquired as you scanned the good in your hand. This time he came in with a different colour of sweats, with a stain on the hem of his blue sweater.

It had been a while since you last saw him. Maybe a week since that night.

“Slow,” you sighed, returning the film to him. The colours on the box’s cover were washed out, and the actress was a blurry blob of colours. Her hair colour and body type matched yours, but that was all you could make out. So you chose to close an eye. “My boss is gonna be so mad about the sales.”

“My bad. If it weren’t for work, I’d be here more often,” the blonde commented.

“You’re a hard worker, aren’t you?” You teased, to which he placed a hand over his heart.

“You don’t know half of it, sweetheart.” Your cheeks tingled at the pet name. Wait– what? “The higher ups owe me more breaks.”

You cleared your throat. “Even if you did, don’t you have better places to be?”

“I’d say you make good company,” he grinned boyishly. Your heart fluttered a little. Wow, what was seriously happening to you?

“Anyways-” He tilted the film in his hand, “-wanna watch this together?”

Fat chance. Just because he was growing on you didn’t mean you were ready to sit in a tiny room with him on a couch, just the two of you in the dark. You’d tell him that, but he read your expression independently and laughed. When he disappeared into the viewing room, your attention turned to the register’s screen where an alert had popped up.

Invalid barcode. Please contact staff.

Huh? You copied the barcode number and manually entered it into the system. The same system popup appeared and you scratched your head, confused. Muffled noises leaked into the sales floor and you stepped away from the counter. Maybe he took a show that failed to register in the system?

You stood outside the door and listened. Was now a good time to enter? You hesitated and held the door knob. A soft moan stopped you in your tracks– followed by a whimper and some incoherent noises.

Weird. For a second there it almost sounded like you. Was the actress a sound-alike too?

You finally opened the door, peaking into the room as the door creaked ajar. It was dark as you expected, just the singular beam of light from the projector that shone onto the screen. Strange enough, you found no one on the couch, only a rolling film on screen. Your dilated pupils shifted to the screen, and you practically swung the door open.

A girl– no, it was you. You were on screen. Laying on bed with a fluffy towel crumpled beside you as your body glistened with droplets, courtesy of your bath. A bead of sweat trailed down your nape, dumbfounded as the you from that night had her fingers buried between her trembling legs. Your face was contorted with pleasure, and you bit the back of your hand to stifle your delighted noises.

How? This couldn’t be happening. You wanted to assure yourself that it was fake, but even you knew there was no denying its authenticity. The camera was shaky, and you scrunched up your brows. The angle… you recognised the angle. You were being filmed from your bedroom windows.

The scene abruptly cut to another one, this time it was of you in your bedroom, standing naked before your mirror. Your hands traced your silhouette, hands wandering down your naked body as you inspected yourself in the mirror. Sleepwear and underwear were gathered haphazardly in a pile behind you. A matching set of underwear on your bed.

It felt like a giant ball of cotton was shoved into your mouth; you swallowed dryly. Your feet moved and you stood behind the couch, your knees feeling like they may give out at any moment. This was last week. How did such a creep go unnoticed by you? Who was filming you? And how did all these get into the store? And– You searched the room frantically. Where was Leon?

The door creaked closed, and you found the devil himself blocking the way out. Another clip played on screen, and you pried your eyes from him to look back at it in horror.

“Nicely edited, don’t you think?” His sneakers thumped against the carpet softly. He stood behind you, arms trapping you against the couch from behind. You flinched at the warm breath that fanned your ear. His fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

“I think I deserve a round of applause for it.”

“L-Leon…” your voice cracked. You should be screaming and pushing him off, like you did before with that man. This was a similar situation, right? So why was your heart hammering in your chest like this?

“What is it, sweetheart?”

His voice was a low murmur against your ear, and you shivered. His voice sounded like it was literally in your head, reverberating in the cavern of your mind. Your breath hitched as a warm hand slid under your shirt.

He unclasped your bra with ease, and his hands slid under it to gently cup the curves of your chest. His hands engulfed them easily, and he fondled them half-heartedly while pressing soft kisses along the column of your neck. His lips grazed over the scabbed wound, and you gripped the couch to stabilise yourself.

You should hate it, but your voice failed to protest when he led you to the couch to lay down. He bundled the hem of your top into your mouth, muffling your squeaks when he slipped his hands underneath your loose bra to run his fingers along the circumference of your areola. His thumbs prodded at your nipples, and you squirmed a little at the tingling sensations running along your chest. He pushed your bra aside and flicked his tongue against one of your nipples. Your fingers gripped the blonde’s tresses whilst he teased your perky buds with his warm tongue, lapping at them painfully slowly.

Leon’s other hand traced down your body until he reached your bottoms. He tugged it off your legs, throwing it behind his shoulder. His fingers wandered to the gusset of your panties where a damp patch had formed. The regular stroked your slit through the thin cloth, and you whimpered softly at his ministrations. All the while his eyes were fixated on you, never looking away as he licked your chest like a starving pup begging for milk.

He pulled your panties aside to squeeze a finger into your tightness, and your gaze shifted to where he was connected to you. A finger disappeared into you, and you squeezed your thighs in disapproval as he tried to fit another. Not that it could stop him when he forced into you one more, and you trembled at the stretch from his digits. The blonde wrapped his tongue around one of the swollen buds on your chest, his free hand pinching and tugging on the other.

“Mhnn,” you hummed softly. Moisture clung to your lashes.The intensity in his baby blues beckoned you into the brink of your sanity, and you threw your head back to guard yourself against his tempting call.

“Don’t be shy,” he withdrew from your chest with a pop. He tugged your top out of your mouth. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Moan for me.”

His padded fingers prodded inside you experimentally , and a certain spot elicited an embarrassingly loud mewl. The blonde grinned boyishly as he fingered that gummy spot, jamming into it harder and deeper with each cry he drew out of you. Biting the back of your hand, your lashes fluttered unsteadily as you twisted and turned, a strange feeling pulsating deep within you. Your hand found purchase in his hair again, tugging on his silky strands in a silent plea. Whether to stop or for more, only god knew.

But then he stopped, and the heat from his body dissipated. You opened your eyes to see the man shed his sweater, pulling the navy blue article over his scarred body. With a shaky hand, you placed your hand over a scar on his chest and traced the protruding tissue. You frowned- what he had gone through to amass the plethora of scars before you?

The jingling of his belt tore your attention back to his torso. He tugged his pants down to reveal the bulging outline of his hard-on through his boxers. You didn’t mean to stare, but you struggled to tear your eyes away and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He carded his bangs with his fingers, pushing them back as he smirked.

“Like what you see? ‘Cuz my eyes are up here.”

Your ears were hot, and you held your breath as he pressed a kiss to your knee. Then he kissed the inside of your thighs until he reached your clothed core, to the drenched gusset of your panties. His lips quirk up in a pleased smirk, and he kissed it before tugging your panties off. It landed atop your long forgotten bottoms, and he swept them off the couch and they crumpled onto the floor.

He planted his hands on either side of you, trapping you underneath him. But for some reason you weren’t scared, no, your heart pounded in anticipation when he leaned in. Maybe you wanted this all along, and you stared into his deep blue eyes when fists suddenly pounded on the door. The thuds echoed in the viewing room, and the both of you jumped.

“Excuse me? Hello…? Is anyone around?”

Your eyes flitted to the door and at the knob as it jingled. But Leon had locked it earlier- thank god- and the customer repeated their question once more. You hesitated before opening your mouth, but he clamped his hand over your lips. You shot him a look, but he answered you with a deep kiss. His plush lips tangled with yours, biting and gnawing on the softness of your own. His kiss was like the ocean, an uncharted wonder that submerged you deeper and deeper with each press of his lips against yours. No thoughts resided in your head, all you could think about was him and his warmth.

Meanwhile, he pushed the back of your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest. The weight of his upper body sandwiched them to your swollen chest, and he ran a finger between your sticky folds before finally slipping in.

He growled against the corner of your lips, and your nails wandered along his back. Pink crescents glowed red as you dug your nails under his shoulder blades, and you whimpered softly. The stretch hurt more than it did with his fingers. He shushed your cries with saliva stained kisses along the corners of your mouth. A sweet haze swirled in your mind, muffling the knocking on the door in favour of the groans from the man sandwiching you to the couch.

“Fuck-” he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder. He was finally hilted within you. His hips stuttered and he struggled to unsheathe himself. He mumbled something into your skin, a hand gripping the back of your knees for support. He withdrew until there was only the tip left, then he slowly filled you up again. Over and over, he plunged deep and slow, drawing pretty moans from you. Soft plapping noises filled the room, a sound barely registered by you in your haze.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” the blonde murmured, his grip on your knees bruising. Strings of drool dribbled down your chin as you laid there limply for him to use. He weakly slapped your cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Look at you. Too drunk on my cock to think.”

Leon chuckled lowly, and you squealed when he slapped your clit. You clenched him harder, and he cursed as you throbbed around him. The veins running along his length pulsated angrily against your gummy confines, and he grabbed your chin to peer into your clouded eyes.

“You’re practically begging me to cum inside, sweetheart. You’d like that, yeah? Mhn… I know you would. Such a dirty slut. All mine.”

He dragged his tongue along the outline of your jaw, and you met his tongue with yours in an open mouthed kiss. His name was a broken song, rising in pitch as an overwhelming sensation escalated with each press of his pelvis against your clit. When you finally broke, you cried out in desperation and you came hard around him. He fucked you through your high, uncaring about the overstimulation racking your body as you convulsed underneath him. His pleasure would become yours, whether you liked it or not. When the thread in his abdomen finally snapped, he stuffed himself to the base and emptied his spent into you.

The warmth in your belly was comforting, lulling you into sleep when his voice tugged you awake. He stood beside the couch, phone in hand. A sleazy grin played on his swollen lips.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.”

You blearily raised a peace sign, the hem of your top between your teeth, bra hanging loosely. Uncaring of the cum and sweat all over your body, you managed a timid smile as the camera flashed. He snapped a photo and sunk into the seat beside you. A commemoration for today, and a little something for him (and you, if you’d like him to send it to you) to remember it.

You crawled over, nestling your head on his chest as your eyelids drooped close. Would your body suffice as a thank you for saving you that day? You hoped he’d ask for more. You nuzzled into the warmth of his chest.

Meanwhile, Leon inspected the pixelated photo. He was deeply pleased with his work, and he kissed the top of your head. You were slipping into a plane of unconsciousness, and he tucked stray hairs behind your ear.

“That’s my girl.”

. . .

“Use your tongue,” He whispered. The heavy hand on your head stroked your hair tenderly, and you gazed up at him through hooded eyes. He laid on his back, on the couch as you knelt between his spread legs.

The projector had long stopped rolling its film, and a single beam of white light illuminated the viewing room. Who knew how much time had passed. All that mattered was pleasing him, so that you could earn his smile, and if you were lucky, his attention.

He clenched his teeth as your canines grazed his pulsing veins. You licked his tip apologetically, earning a low chuckle from him. Your stomach fluttered at the sound, and you closed your eyes as you continued nursing him with your tongue.

“That’s it,” he hissed. He tightened his grip on his phone, and his screen reflected you in it. A red icon incessantly blinked in the upper corner of the screen. In the darkness, a smile snuck onto his face, “Show me what that mouth can do.”

(BONUS)

A month. That was all the rest days he had accumulated after slaving away as the government’s killing machine for the past year. It was non negotiable, so he was going to make the best out of it- and he planned to burn through cheap booze and rewatching classics.

So Leon found himself in a rental video store, a bag in his calloused grip clunking with cans of cold beer, condensation clinging to the insides of the cheap plastic bag. He wandered along the aisles as an old fan nailed to the ceiling rotated in semicircles. The blades whirred at snail's pace, practically useless as even the dust sitting on top of the shelves barely flinched. Sun rays filtered in from the space between the top of the shelves and the glass walls. White light from the rows of blinking LED lights above lit up the dinghy shop. The store was quiet and unmanned, and as he stood at the counter, eyes searching for the clerk, the bell hanging above the door chimed as it swung open.

A young woman, he raised a curious brow- why was she working in a place like this? You were dressed in skimpy pyjamas when you burst in. Your hair was barely tied up, face bare skinned and lips cracking. You licked them nervously when your eyes fell on him- and he stared expectantly at you.

“I’m so sorry!” You cried as you scrambled to the other side of the counter. “I had to leave the store unattended for a moment- Please don’t tell my boss.”

Fumbling, you tapped buttons onto the register. Something must have gone wrong, because you cursed under your breath. Then you pushed your hair out of your eyes to meet his.

“I just got here,” he lied. He had waited for a while, staring at the cracks on the ceiling and at the clock with frozen hands. He was about to walk out without the tapes, even. But your frantic expression proved to be an amusing display, and he found himself smiling politely. “Don’t sweat it.”

“Thank you so much.” You heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. You scanned his selections when your brows perked up, “Titanic? Didn’t know we had this.”

“Aren’t you working here?” Leon teased, and your cheeks flushed. Cute. He leaned in subconsciously as you flustered.

“W-Well, it’s my second day. I still don’t know where most things go- But I know we have classics and plenty of other… stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” He laughed, and it was an airy one that deepened your blush.

You cleared your throat and swatted the air beside you, “You know, adult films and all. The geezer that owns this store has quite the collection.” You gestured at the back with your hand.

“Come back and take a looksie when you’re free, mister. It’ll be of great help. Y’know, for our sales,” you added.

“Maybe,” he said as he took the goods from you. He offered a friendly smile, and you smiled back. Really cute, he figured. So he promised to return.

He kept his word and returned after a single day. How could he not when you bid him goodbye, all smiles and giddy with gratitude. Did this job mean that much to you? He decided he’d spend some of his time watching more films then, since what else could he possibly do besides bar hopping for skirts and getting blacked out drunk at home? Plus, it was ridiculously cheap to rent these films, an actual steal.

As he wandered in the back, his eyes fell on a strange box with a cursive font. His curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up and stared at the model in the front. A woman with the same hair colour as you, the sole worker in this drab store. A knowing smile crept onto Leon’s face.

all content written by @cherubify ! do not repost, edit, plagiarise, or use my work for AI. requests are indefinitely open.

[dollfacefantasy]

Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [5]

・❥ You make a deal with Alastor, uh oh?

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

x: i actually enjoy alastor’s room a lot, esp that little pocket dimension he’s got going on. thought we’d take a chapter and play around with it!

~ 6.1k words

When you stepped into Alastor’s room, the last thing you expected to see was the opposite wall divulging into some swampy void of tall, dark trees as fog rolled across the grass. You swore you could even hear the faint sounds of bullfrogs calling across the flooded expanse.

A bayou in the middle of the hotel? Alastor must have done this, no doubt. Stopping just past the threshold to the large room, you pointed a questioning finger towards the swamp. 

“What is that…?” 

“Just a place to test my powers,” Alastor brushed past you, and the soft, orange lights nearby flickered to life as he entered beside you, “Somewhere the consequences of my actions won’t affect the outside world.”

“Consequences?”

“Correct,” Alastor seemed to be enjoying educating you on magic and what he was capable of, as he continued to undo his coat near the doorway as you explored, “The limits of my powers continue to expand, and anyone with a good head on their shoulders would do well to understand the potential risks involved when playing around with demonic forces. This is a sanctuary I can do that without causing chaos inside the hotel… and a quaint little view as well.”

“Is it real?” Your gaze skimmed across old black-and-white photos of demons you didn’t recognize.

“An illusion carefully crafted with years of work. I’ve fine-tuned it to display scenes closest to my memories from before.”

“It must remind you of home,” you said softly, eyes tracing an alligator skeleton nailed to the wall, a string of small, flickering lights snaking around its ribs and up its tail. 

Even if Alastor never mentioned it without a little prodding, it seemed as if his old home on Earth was something he continued to keep close to him. He still had a passion for music, for southern food, and his drive to keep everything the way it was only further displayed his fondness towards his life on earth. What wasn’t there to miss when you’d end up in a place like this for eternity?

“Indeed,” Alastor nodded slowly, and you watched his signature red suit slip slowly down his back. Underneath, a crimson dress shirt shimmered softly in the ambient light. Thin, leather straps hugged tightly across his chest and back, before wrapping around his shoulders for one and down his sides to latch tightly on his dress pants. 

The chest suspenders accentuated his slenderness, shaping the pointish frame of his suit to lovely lines like the noticeable curve of his hips. His thin, feminine waist was as prominent as ever with the straps keeping his shirt nestled tightly against his skin, revealing a more sophisticated figure than what his tuxedo suit had to offer.

Wowie.

You prayed Alastor would turn around to face you, only so you could see how yummy he looked from the front while he placed his signature red coat onto the hanger next to the door. You struggled to keep your eyes up as they traveled farther and farther down his firm back until—

Wait, a second. Was that small, dark red tuft of fur that was nestled against the small of his back, actually what you think it is? 

It jutted out from the top of Alastor’s pants, relaxed against the tight fabric. As the demon walked towards the bookshelf, arm raising towards a vintage radio, it swished cutely behind him. You zoned in on the ball of fluff, mouth slightly agape.

TAIL!

Heat instantly crept onto your cheeks, your fingers twitching, itching to reach forward and wrap your fingers around the plush fur. Alastor’s tail looked as soft as his ears, and that made your face only boil hotter as you imagined how his hair must feel similar. The thought of burying your face in him like a pillow made you smile dopely, before the realization of what you were thinking made you clamp your lips into a thin line.

Smacking a hand over your face, you tried to hide your embarrassment as Alastor moved a few feet further away, completely oblivious to your flustered figure ogling him.

What was wrong with you?! Here you were supposed to be helping him with his wounds but instead you were too busy drooling at how pretty he was!

Alastor’s tail was much more reactive than his ears, and as his fingers fussed with the radio dial, the increasingly audible jazz tune that began to waft through its speakers had that tuft of fur beginning to rise. White peaked from his underfur, as it slowly lifted in a silent expression of pleasure from the demon, as the music began to pour from the radio crystal clear.

You could understand why he was so intent on keeping it hidden underneath his suit. It didn’t seem like Alastor had complete control of his tail, and there was no doubt he saw it as a ‘weakness’ that other powerful demons could use against him somehow.

You thought it was adorable, and somehow, you’d convince Alastor of that too. 

A gentle jazz beat with words you didn’t recognize wafted through the air, as Alastor turned to face you with a satisfied grin. Your eyes instantly shot up to meet his own, but not in time for the demon to notice your strange, heated demeanor and the way you cracked a quick, innocent grin. 

He definitely caught you staring at his ass, and now you had other things to stare at with how snug that leather strap was across his upper body, and the way it seemed to only make his chest puff out even more. You definitely weren’t having a hard time controlling your gaze as Alastor sidled to the desk, a playful glint from his monocle as his eyelids lowered slightly. 

“Find something of interest?” He hummed, cracking a charming smile as he slid his claws gently across the oak desk’s surface, tracing lines downward until he landed at the top drawer. Pulling it open as you averted your gaze, eyes searching for anything of interest.

“Why, yes,” you nodded, putting a hand to your chin in dramatic thought as your attention landed on the bookshelf Alastor had just moved away from, the rows of books on full display, the titles unreadable in the dim light.

“You love to read, unsurprisingly.” You smiled as Alastor pulled a small medical kit from the drawer, turning to face you slowly, “Do you have a preferred genre?” 

“Murder mysteries are a favorite of mine,” He nodded, striding over to the twin vintage cushioned chairs that sat next to the fireplace, “The fear and the adrenaline that spikes through the protagonist as they try to find the killer before the killer finds them, a thrilling hunt from both sides.”

Alastor giggled at that, placing a hand to his mouth as if recalling a fond memory as you slowly joined him next to the fireplace. It flickered with bright green light, licking at the metal railings keeping its size in check as Alastor stood beside the chair, gesturing you to sit.

“You’re the one injured,” you frowned, plopping down into the chair as you took the medical kit from his free hand, “It should be me doing these things for you.” 

“Manners don’t go out the door just because there is blood present, I am still a gentleman,” Alastor replied with a waggle of his finger, before he took a seat near you, his claws tapping against the chair’s arm rhythmically with the jazz music. 

The warmth from the fire had your eyes drooping slightly, exhaustion tickling the back of your scalp. Even though it was technically still early afternoon, almost getting blown up multiple times, meeting the king of Hell who also saved your life, and being in the center of the two power demon’s bickering had drained you. 

Alastor’s room was very serene, the soft jazz lulling you into a tranquility that had you sinking further into the chair. The deep brown, neutral tones of the antique furniture that framed the room, along with the orange lights that flickered softly along the walls were easy on your eyes, and you smiled softly as you unclipped the medical case’s lid and opened it slowly.

With invisible hands, Alastor’s chair moved forward without effort, scraping softly against the dark red carpet beneath before stilling right as his legs were about to brush against your own. Skimming through the contents of bandaids, your attention landed on packaged tiny alcohol wipes and thin white gauze. Placing the two items on your lap, you leaned over and placed the medical kit on a side table nearby. 

Lifting a hand towards Alastor, you beckoned him forward and he slid his fingers into your palm. He leaned forward as you pulled his hand into your lap, one elbow against the arm of the chair, a hand cupping his chin as he watched you tenderly dab his cuts with the alcohol wipe. The smeared blood against his skin was cleaned off as you worked, and Alastor only silently judged you on the strange, affectionate behavior.

Why would you care so much about a few scratches on his hand, when it meant nothing in the long run. It's not like the rose was made out of angelic steel, yet you fretted simply because he could still feel the sting of the thorns on his tender skin.

For any other demon, Alastor would have slapped them across the face with a tentacle for suggesting to look after him in this way. Why would he reveal any kind of weakness to someone who could use it against him, or view him as what, fragile, delicate? That was not something The Radio Demon could have for his image.

Except, your intention was nothing but pure since the first time Alastor had met you. Even Charlie, the sweet and naive woman he’d come to grow fond of, still had her reasons for treating Alastor with great kindness. He was beneficial to her hotel’s success, and as long as he felt welcomed, he’d help her turn her dreams into reality. Since he began climbing the political ladder of Pentagram City, anytime someone wanted his presence was to use him. 

You, on the other hand, had no ulterior motive. Even when you learned from your friend the terrible things they claim Alastor committed, your curiosity and kindness towards him never faltered. 

You had never asked for his help, even going so far as to deny his assistance when it came to putting that snobby boss of yours back in line. Every time the two of you had crossed paths, it had been him initiating the meeting, him making the first moves for you to notice his presence, him seeking you out. 

And now, even seeing Alastor in any kind of vulnerable state, your soft and gentle demeanor didn’t waver, didn’t dull knowing he wasn’t a second-to-none overlord that could take on any threat as he’s so valiantly demonstrated before.

You didn’t value him any less for his injuries, and in truth, your image of him only improved knowing he was just a man in demon form. Someone with insecurities, human emotions like pain and jealousy, and a good eye for flora.

Except, Alastor wished you’d be paying less attention to his grievous wounds, and instead of focusing on the question you were rudely interrupted trying to answer this morning. 

“Come to a decision on your stay at the hotel?” 

Your hands halted in mid-air, the gauze between your fingers while you had been finishing up wrapping his fingers with the white tape. You had been thinking this whole time about different haircuts to subtly introduce Alastor to improve the only slightly lacking feature on his figure.

“Well–I, um, about that…” you started, grimacing at the way the words fell out of your mouth were scrambled under his intense gaze, “I have been thinking, but I mean, there’s a lot to think about. First off, while I believe Charlie really has something going on here with the hotel… I don’t think I fit the criteria.”

“Of course you do!” Alastor chuckled, as if you had just said the silliest thing to have graced his ears, “If a harlot and that slithering simpleton have a chance at leading a virtuous existence, then I'd say the cards are in your hands for that too!” 

You were about to open your mouth, before he leaned back into his chair, slipping his bandaged hand out of your grip and back to his side to inspect it carefully. 

“And, I’m quite confident you could find a more fulfilling job here at the hotel, instead of under that spineless wretch of a man,” Alastor continued, reclining back into the chair as he tilted his head in thought.

“Probably…”

“Not to mention, complimentary room and board? My, you’ve got a very tantalizing offer right in front of you, any sorry bloke off the street would be jumping at the opportunity you’ve been given.”

Was that true? Alastor was really selling this to you, and you reached up a hand to soothingly scratch your neck as you thought. Would it be so bad to stay here? 

Your thoughts from earlier this morning replayed in your head. There wasn’t anything specifically keeping you from denying the offer. You worked a dead-end job around people you were uncomfortable with, the place you were renting was small and falling apart, and you had nobody holding you back. Your friends were there, but weren’t close in your circle. Which kind of meant you didn’t have a circle… except these new demons at the hotel. You were warming up to them, and they weren’t too bad.

Did you really have a shot at redemption? Were you worthy of eternal happiness?

What if having such made you a laughingstock, what if joining these people made you a target of Heaven? That wouldn’t be good, and you were a nobody with no power that 

“Al…” You sighed with a groan, placing your head into your hands. Why did you have to be so indecisive?!

“Why don’t we make a deal?” Alastor's smile cracked wider, the curves of his lips becoming sharper as an unreadable expression crossed his eyes.

“A deal?”

“Just a simple thing,” He smiled innocently, leaning  “No contract or handshake necessary, I believe you are trustworthy to hold up your end with just words.”

God, he was super close to you now, practically nose to nose as he looked at you expectantly. A playful glint shimmered in his red monocle, and your breath hitched at his proximity. 

“What kind of deal?” You finally whispered, heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“You want to learn my interests, want a peek into my life above, hm?” He inched closer to you, smile widening as you leaned backward, “If I take you directly to the source, show you life as I lived it, then you must move to the hotel and stay for one month.”

‘Source’? What did he mean by that? And, if you agreed, you had to stay for a month? But, he was going to open himself up and share his past life with you, which meant a lot to you. 

His eyelids lowered again, something you had noticed earlier when he caught your ogling. Were they lowered in amusement? Some amateurs attempt at bedroom eyes? You could hardly think straight with how close he was to you, a hundred routes of where things could go next skimming through your mind.

Maybe that was just a delusion of yours, wanting Alastor to show more interest than just pretty flowers and a ring that he seemed to sport on you just for show. You barely knew the man, but his kindness and, oh, and that voice… you were just so impatient.

Alastor wasn’t a big physical romantic, you could tell. Which meant you needed to take things slow, respect his space and his pace. He flustered so easily when you complimented him, obviously new to the whole romantic thing in general, and that only made you want to do it again.

Which meant, it would be you that would have to make some moves this time. Even if they were small, it seemed any act of affection would send the deer demon into a tizzy. A kiss on the cheek? Too brazen. A flower crown for his antlers? A little too cottage-girly for him, perhaps.

“I enjoy your excitement at my proposition,” Alastor broke you from your thoughts, as he smiled widely at your dopey expression again, “But I’ll need you to agree with words, darling.”

You really needed to learn to keep your facial expressions in check, it was embarrassing how easily Alastor had been able to catch you mid-daydream so easily. 

“...Okay.” You finally whisper, and energy crackles inside the room right as the words leave your lips.

“Wonderful!” Alastor beamed, rising from the chair in one smooth motion, his good hand wrapping around your forearm suddenly before pulling you up beside him.

Blinking, you felt him slip an arm around yours before tugging you across the room. The jazz from the radio seemed to increase in volume the closer the two of you stepped closer to the pocket dimension a few feet away.

You halted right at the edge, the croaking from the frogs, and distant calls of the owl grew louder as you lifted your head towards the looming trees. The sky was starless, a large, dark blue shadow masking the scene at night as the fireflies danced. What was Alastor planning?

“Just a moment, I need to grab my cane,” he left your side, walking back to the fireplace as your gaze stayed frozen on the swampy atmosphere ahead. 

You leaned forward, trying to get a better look around the weird little pocket-dimension. Even the air inside changed, you could practically taste the humidity in the air as it began to stick to your forehead.

Did the grass still feel like grass, even in a powerful illusion like this? You had no idea Alastor was capable of this kind of magic, especially such vivid scenery. Slowly, you lifted a foot over where brown wood melted into greenery, still hesitant to touch the strange grass.

You held a breath as you crossed the threshold, the sounds of grass crunching beneath as you walked into the wetland. You could feel the water in the soil squelching as you walked slowly, towards nowhere in particular as you twisted your head at the unfamiliar area. 

Thick, swampy vines curled around large trunks and snaked into deep, mucky waters. The way was illuminated by the flickering bodies of fireflies as they danced almost rhythmically to the soft jazz in the background. Sometimes, the surface of the water nearby would ripple, and you swore the shadow of a long body of something stalking underneath the surface passed right next to you.

When you turned to face the line of trees in the distance, two pairs of glowing, yellow eyes met yours. A silhouette of a four-legged creature, tall with branching antlers that tickled at the leaves above its head. The two of you locked eyes for a few moments, and you opened your mouth slightly in awe as it stood elegantly before you.

“My, you are quite a wanderer!” A chipper voice exclaimed behind you, and you pivoted with a yelp to face the static-laced voice smiling softly toward you.

“This place is really amazing,” you laughed, twisting your head to find the buck had disappeared, “It actually feels like we’re back on Earth, almost.”

“It gets better,” Alastor hummed beside you, extending a hand that you accepted with gentle fingers as he grasped you softly.

“Well, how do I look?” He leaned closer to you, puffing his chest slightly as you skimmed across his pretty figure.

Your hands tentatively lifted to adjust the slightly angled black bowtie near his collar, and Alastor only watched you carefully as you fixed it back into place. 

“Perfect,” you sang with a smile, and he mimicked your expression with glee.

“Always a charm, my doe.” Alastor winked, before he slid his arm through yours once more and stood shoulder-to-shoulder beside you. 

His smile was playful, as he glanced at you standing tense beside him. You had a sneaking suspicion he was going to teleport you again, or do something magically stomach-twisting that had you wishing for a paper bag on the side.

“Now, close your eyes…” 

You followed his instruction, squeezing them shut with a deep breath.

You barely had time to exhale before the wind around you turned to a deathly chill, and the humidity was zapped from the air as that familiar feeling of weightlessness had you tightening your hold on Alastor.

You felt him shifting beside you, although you couldn’t imagine into what as your eyes stayed shut tight, cold gripping at your shoulders. It felt like the ground was alive, transforming right beneath you with barely a tremble as you held your breath tightly. 

Then, your ears popped and you felt the grass beneath your feet shift to firm, rocky pavement. There was music, jazz again, but this time the words were audible as women's voices sang with the bumping rhythm. 

‘I’m just a little Jackie Horner,’

‘Since I met my sugar cane,’ 

“Are you going to keep your eyes shut the entire time?” Alastor prodded beside you, his tone laced with amusement as you relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice. 

Taking a deep breath, you crack an eyelid, the darkened atmosphere easy on your vision as you slowly open your eyes to reveal a scene straight out of a history book. 

You were standing in the middle of a cracked, paved road, illuminated by a stretch of tall lamps that cast warm orange tones across the street. Buildings with tall shutters for windows beckoned an invisible finger for you to follow, as spicy, southern food hit your nostrils and the sounds of riled entertainment reached your ears.

‘I left a light lamp on that old corner,’

‘For the moon in lover’s lane,’ 

They all held porches that spanned the entire front of the house-sized buildings. Darkened, silhouetted figures laughed above your head, as you stood there in awe. 

There were a few cars parked on the sides of the street, with thin, flimsy wheels reminding you of distant times when vehicles were just starting to reach the public eye. 

It really felt like you had stepped into the past, everything reminisced to a world before TVs, social media, and WiFi. When newspapers and radios ruled supreme, people came together and danced on the streets instead of dancing behind the camera on silly apps. 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

“Welcome to New Orleans in Roarin’ Twenties!” Alastor beamed beside you, gesturing to the long row of storefronts, the air humming with lively energy and pulsing with vibrant rhythms of tunes long forgotten. 

You jumped at the sound of a baritone horn blaring from beside you. A steamboat filled with flickering lights and singing, boisterous voices chugged past you, its large wheel churning as water cascaded from the paddles. 

A figure turned to you, masked in shadows before they raised an arm and waved across the water towards you. Your lips curved wider with a smile, before lifting a cautious hand and returning the gesture.

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

You felt someone bump into your shoulder, another one of those mysterious figures that filled the street. 

“‘Scuse me, miss,” the stranger tipped his hat apologetically to you, bowing slightly as he brushed by.

‘So I never take her where the gang goes,’ 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’

You twisted your head to finally get a good look at the strangers around you, before your eyes widened at the sight of a doll-like man, his mouth sewn into a wide smile. Black buttons glinted at you from where his eyes should have been, as the man placed his hat back on and turned away. 

You didn’t have time to process the sight before Alastor was pulling you down the street, a live band played outside one bar, the paint mashing keys to a much faster rhythm as two women swung each other across the sidewalk with laughter and the clicking of heels. 

Alastor pulled you along until the two of you stopped at a bakery storefront. Shadowed puppets flowed around you, as your eyes landed on a steaming plate of deep-fried goodness sitting patiently on a table right outside the doorway. 

“Beignets,” He hummed, handing you a pastry, “A cultural classic in these parts.”

‘I’m a rowdy dowdy, that’s me,’

It reminded you of a tiny pillow, sugar coating its surface as you squished the crunchy delicacy before lifting it to your lips.

Taking a bite, the warmth of the bread bloomed across your body as the food traveled down your throat. Your tongue reached out to swipe at the leftover sugar hanging on your lips, as you smiled with pleasure. 

‘She’s a high hat baby, that’s she,’

Alastor only watched you with a soft expression, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you fill your mouth.

“You seem to be enjoying that,” he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth still partially occupied by the delicious treat. “It’s amazing! I’ve never tasted anything like it before,” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pastry.

“Well, there’s a lot of things you have yet to experience, my doe!” He sang, before tugging you along with a static-laced chuckle.

As the two of you strolled down the bustling street, your eyes caught a small crowd surrounding a man in a tall, black hat as he smiled charmingly at the audience.

The magician, dressed in a dapper suit adorned with intricate patterns, stood before a small crowd, his hands moving with precision and finesse as he dazzled onlookers with his feats of magic.

Curiosity piqued, you and Alastor paused to watch the spectacle unfold. The magician’s fingers danced across a deck of cards with effortless grace, manipulating them in ways that seemed impossible. Cards vanished into thin air only to reappear in unexpected places, leaving the crowd gasping in amazement.

Alastor only glanced at you unamusingly, and you laughed softly at his facial expression. Magic card tricks were nothing in comparison to what he was capable of, and you were sure he could wow this illusionary crowd in a heartbeat.

The two of you turned, halfway down the street now, as Alastor pointed at a few different sights. He even introduced you to instruments you’d never heard of before as the two of you continued on. 

“Have you ever performed?” You turned to him, another southern treat in your hand as you kept pace underneath the gas-lit lamps above. 

“On the streets? No, not like this,” Alastor shook his head, his nails clicking against his cane rhythmically with the music wafting from a bar nearby as the two of you stood near the edge of the river. 

You had gotten your hands on a small cup of Duchess Potatoes, a light, creamier version of the classic spud. Placing a small spoonful in your mouth, you swirled the flavors across your taste buds as you watched Alastor stare out at the open expanse of water.

“Once in a while, I’d stop at an old friend of mine’s jazz club, and on the nights I had a few extra drinks in my system, I'd lend my voice to the flappers as they danced.” 

“That sounds like fun!”

“It was,” He nodded, recounting the memories with amusement, “Mimzy would always tease me that I'd make better use as a flapper than a radio host. Sometimes, I think about life if I would have 

You laughed softly, imagining such a scene of Alastor dancing in a high skirt and fishnets. 

It wasn’t until the doors to a bar at the end of the street burst open, and large instruments were dragged through the threshold and out into the streets. Men gathered, readying their musical weapons for another nightly show as onlookers turned their attention to them. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked with a large, devilish smile as he turned to face the small crowd gathering. Couples glided in, teasing each other as they paired around the pianist and his band of stringed instruments. You watched his ears twitch slightly, twisting towards the rising noises.

“It looks like they are all going to dance!” You replied next to him, and Alastor turned to see interest gleaming in your gaze. He watched you for a few moments, before his crimson eyes landed on a trolly that was moving its way down the large street and towards the band.

You felt fingers lace around your wrist, and the gentle tugging from beside you as you met Alastor’s mischievous gaze.

“Let’s make sure we don’t miss it, then!” He winked, before he pulled you towards the lumbering vehicle. 

With wide eyes, you watched Alastor take a running start and gracefully leap onto the back of the trolley, hanging tightly to the railing as he beckoned for you to join.

You watched for a moment, before taking a deep breath and running to catch up with the trolly. Laughing, you reached out a hand to grasp Alastor’s as you closed in on the back of the vehicle.

You felt a sizzle of magic drag you an inch forward, and your fingers laced with Alastor’s as he pulled you beside him. He snaked one hand securely around your waist as you leaned out from the side of the vehicle, the wind whipping against your face as you watched the street lights flicker past. 

“I used to time myself on how fast I could make it on,” Alastor’s voice broke you from your awe, and you turned your head to meet his gaze, “I’m not sure if I've improved since my younger days.” 

You only smiled softly, the proximity of his touch hot on your mind, but you didn’t speak a word as the trolley continued on its path, the bar’s lights flashing with life as you beelined towards it. 

The trolley was fast, as it sped by the large steamboat, which honked as if in greeting to the passing vehicle. The trolley replied with a jingle of its own, before the boat disappeared farther down the river.

The trolley began to slow a few feet from the band, which you were thankful for, unsure if you had the physical form to tuck and roll successfully had you needed to make a quick exit.

Alastor landed on the pavement with a thump, twisting his grip so he could help you down with both hands firmly placed at your sides. 

“Let’s hurry before we miss it!” He sang, before pulling you along towards the crowd. The pianist thrummed the keys, inciting the dancers to twirl faster and they were lost in a hypnotic bustle of bodies fluidly maneuvering against each other. The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed along with the drumming beat, twisting in a tune of its own creation as you and Alastor moved closer.

But, why did it look like he was going to pull you in the center? Weren’t the two of you just going to stand back and watch? 

You didn’t have time to answer your own questions before you were in the center of the dancing couples. You froze with the spotlight on you, the jazz ringing in your ears as your shoulders softly pumped to the music.

Alastor took your hands carefully, his legs beginning to move in practiced motion as you stood there awkwardly.

“I can’t dance!” You squeaked. 

“It’s the Charleston, darling!” His voice cut through the romping rhythm, sending you a charming grin as he began to move his feet, “It’s not too hard, just follow my lead!” 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves as you focused on Alastor’s movements. His feet moved with precision and fluidity, his body swaying effortlessly to the beat of the music. You tried to mimic his steps, clumsily at first, but with each passing moment, you found yourself growing more confident as you fell into sync with his rhythm.

As the music swirled around you, you lost yourself in the dance, allowing Alastor to guide you with gentle precision. His hands were warm and reassuring against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you moved together in perfect harmony.

The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed in time with the drumming beat, creating a hypnotic melody that seemed to envelop you in its embrace. The world around you faded away as you focused solely on the dance.

With each step, each turn, you felt yourself letting go of your inhibitions, allowing the music to flow through you like a river. You spun and twirled with glee, lost in the intoxicating energy of the moment, a smile spreading across your face as laughter bubbled up from deep within your chest.

As the song reached its climax, you and Alastor moved as one, your bodies intertwined in a symphony of movement and sound. In that fleeting moment, there was no past or future, no worries or doubts – there was only the here and now, the exhilarating rush of the dance, and the feeling of Alastor’s touch against your skin. 

As the music faded into the night, you found yourself breathless and exhilarated, your cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement. You turned to Alastor with a grin, your eyes shining with newfound confidence.

“I can’t believe I just did that!” You exclaimed, the thrill of the dance still coursing through your veins. Alastor chuckled softly, his gaze warm and affectionate as he tilted his head towards you. 

“You were marvelous, my dear,” he replied, his voice filled with pride. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone as extraordinary as you.”

You returned the smile, a breathless laugh escaping your lips as you swayed next to him. The music was beginning to die, the scene slowly falling away as the grass began to replace the tiled, stone pavement under your feet. 

Never did you imagine you’d find yourself dancing near glistening waters, eating the delicacies that the human world once had to offer. 

Never did you imagine, Alastor would be such a good dancer! And, dancing with you, no less! 

“I think my hunger for information has been quenched, for now,” you smiled playfully, eyes locked onto Alastor as the world around you shifted. 

“Good,” Alastor smiled satisfactorily, before a mischievous glint reflected through his monocle, “Now… I believe it's time to hold up your end of the deal.” 

Right. The part where you had to move into the hotel. One month. Not a year, not forever, just one month. Couldn’t you decide by then? 

Yes, you could. You could come to a decision now, honestly, but something else was itching at the back of your mind. An act of affection that would no doubt get a reaction from the demon in front of you. 

“I think you’re onto something…” You nodded slowly, pulling Alastor's hand toward you with a sly smile.

Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed at your behavior, as his fingers lifted closer and closer towards your lips. 

With gentle reverence, you pressed a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, your lips lingering against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. Alastor’s breath caught in his throat, a startled look crossing his features as he watched you with wide eyes.

Finally, the roles had reversed. 

For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still as you held his hand in yours, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The touch of your lips against his skin sent a fire igniting inside Alastor, one he was struggling to contain. 

A flush of color spread across his cheeks, a rare display of vulnerability that took you by surprise. His usual composed demeanor faltered for just a moment, revealing the depth of emotion hidden beneath the surface.

“Y-you…” Alastor stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched for the right words. But before he could find them, he was interrupted by the sound of laughter echoing in the distance, the moment broken by the world slowly shifting around you.

Clearing his throat and regaining his composure, Alastor withdrew his hand from yours with careful movements. 

“Well, I suppose we should be getting your things,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. But the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed the lingering effects of your gesture.

Behind him, the fireplace illuminated the non-magical side of Alastor’s room, the vintage clock displaying arms that had barely moved an inch since you left on your little adventure. 

“Seems so,” you replied with a honeyed tone, batting your eyelashes at him as he adjusted his bowtie with clumsy fingers.

If you had looked down while flustering the poor man, you’d have noticed his tail high, white fur on full display behind him. Instead, you brushed past him and back into the confines of normalcy.

awwww man, we made it, alastor finally has his girl staying at the hotel! and a lil kissy kiss :3

i hope you guys could understand what was going on lmao i spent like an hour or two looking up pictures of new orleans, southern food, and steamboats 😂

thank you with your patience on this part, have a great day! 🤍

tags 1/2 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie @luujjvi @amoraneuro @kimmikreates

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 38 || The Dark Red

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, heavy angst, a tinge of fluff, & sexual tension.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.1k

[ { A/N } ] ➤ And yes, the chapter title is a Steve Lacy reference :)

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU'RE DREAMING. THAT HAS to be the only logical explanation as to how and why you're face to face with Choso Kamo who's just given himself to you for the second time and has gone as far as tattooing your name on him to show you how serious he is.

What exactly have you done to make this man so dedicated to you? Hell, you hardly know why Gojo's even in love with you so, the chances of you figuring out Choso's feelings are damn there impossible.

Brown irises gaze into your eyes in casualty as the man awaits your proper reaction. The reaction in which he waits on took a few seconds because you had a hard time processing this.

See, here's the difference between Choso and Gojo...

Gojo Satoru has committed more wrongs than rights by you and nothing is going to change that. However, the man is willing and tries his best to spend every last dollar on you just to put one smile on your face to make up for each smile he'd taken from you.

Now, Choso Kamo has treated you with nothing but utmost respect while keeping his red flags hidden from your view. Well, they weren't that hidden, you just ignored them. Even so, while he doesn't have the funds to spoil you as he wishes he could, he makes up for that by dedicating his free time to crafting everlasting surprises and gifts for you.

Materialistically speaking, Choso is more ideal here because the things he gives you cannot be bought with money. Sure, Gojo could buy a painting off the street or ask to get you professionally painted, but that'll never compare to the raw and unfiltered emotions Choso captures in his art due to his feelings for you.

And again, how many times do you need to be reminded that Gojo's sugar-coated words, pretty teary confessions, and precious expensive gifts do not make up for his blackmail?

Not to mention, even though he says he loves you and claims to no longer want to hurt you, he's never once said the list was over. Would it not be easy for him to spare you the last person and just say you don't have to seduce Nanami? No, because Gojo had never intended for the list to end until its completion.

Stop forgetting the stress and trauma this situation has given you. For a long time, you felt like nothing more than a tool, this situation has made it difficult for you to trust those around you, it's made you cry yourself to sleep on countless nights, and you're pretty sure you were straight up depressed in the beginning.

That being said, Gojo can't make up for all of that just by speaking to you so softly and saying such loving words.

Yet, even so, you're still conflicted because it's those same words of his that's caused you to view it all differently.

Blinking out of your thoughts, you return focus to Choso with a sigh.

You didn't even realize it but after such an eventful and emotional day, tears just began rolling down your cheeks. With a steady beating heart, you were so choked up with confusion and guilt and regret, all different kinds of feelings eating away at your insides.

Visibly seeing how devoted to you Choso was pulled all of your anxiety and repressed emotions right out of you.

Why does it have to be you in this position? Why does it have to be Choso who's fallen victim to catching feelings for you so much so to the point where he's printed your name on him? Why? Why, why, why, why, why?

Oh what sweet sorrow it is to be in this situation.

You couldn't take it anymore. No longer could you hold in the impending breakdown of yours. As of now, you were literally sitting in front of Choso wearing a necklace Gojo probably spent thousands on. You were always thinking about the other guy while you were with either of them and the conflict finally caught up to you.

Your head shakes softly and you're trying not to sob but everything is just pouring out so suddenly, "C-Choso-," Your breath is caught in your throat, "Why are you so..." Your words fall off your tongue as your face twists up in sadness.

Choso's eyes go wide and he quickly realizes that instead of tears of joy like earlier, these are pure tears of unhappiness. His heart sinks in his chest and his terrible anxiety levels skyrocket.

Choso moves to sit beside you and brings a hand to your face as he does so, trying to wipe your tears away, "S-Shit, baby I'm sorry." He's apologizing faster than he realizes, almost as if it were second nature, "I-I can get it removed, I d-didn't think you'd react like this, fuck. I'm sorry, please-"

"Choso," You croak out, again shaking your head, "It's not you..."

Your voice was so fractured and spoken through heavy tears that it simply broke his heart. The last time Choso saw you cry before today was slightly when he left but it was never to this degree. He doesn't know how to handle this.

One thing about Choso Kamo is that he's a very anxious man. He uncontrollably waits for the worst to happen, he expects people to tell him the worst things, and he's used to experiencing bad situations. This is why he hated the uncertainty, because this is what it leads to; sudden heartbreak.

His hands are sweating and trembling against your skin while his shaky thumbs try to rid your pretty face of the tears. Choso's breathing is unsteady and he's blaming himself heavily, despite you just telling him it's not his fault.

"It has to be me," Choso hushes out, his own eyes glossing over, "I had a feeling it might be too much but I still got the tatt' anyways, this is my fault. I'm sorry, princess." He urges his apology out, quick to take the blame no matter what you say.

Your lower lip quivers terribly and you meet his eyes through hazy vision, "It's n-not you," You whine, "C-Choso t-there's..." You're blabbering before you can stop yourself, "There's s-someone else."

The man's blood ran cold.

His body trembles and trembles before he just... stills. His teary eyes slowly went dry as he blinked and processed what the hell you just said to him.

Choso knew it. He fucking knew this would happen.

"What?" Choso questions. His voice is so empty and dry of anything that you can no longer decipher what he's feeling.

It was the worst possibility by far. Choso isn't insecure or anything but he had his doubts. When he looks at you, he sees a woman of perfection so naturally, he envisions that he's not the only guy who sees that in you.

When you don't say anything and just sit there sobbing, Choso gathers that he didn't imagine your words. "This is because I left, isn't it?" He whispers, almost like he's voicing his thoughts, "Are they... W-When you say there's someone else, what do you mean?"

You sniffle and let out a slight hiccup, "H-He just... I'm c-confused, Cho. I-I want you but I'm n-not ready for a relationship and-"

"Is he the reason?" Choso cuts off coldly.

Technically yes but, you're not telling Choso that. "N-No, that's still me. I just... I shouldn't feel anything for him because h-he's an asshole and I'm supposed to hate him but he's been so fucking sweet and I can't ignore it anymore," Your words come out broken and choked, all being forced in between your tears.

"Oh..." Choso hums. Then, he takes his hands off you and lets you cry freely. It still hurts him to see you so upset but it's pissing him off that someone else has taken his place since he left. And no, he's not mad at you but, moreso himself. "It's that guy who made you cry before," Choso recalls, vividly remembering it all.

You just nod, lifting your hands to wipe your tears since he stopped. "And then..." You sniffle, "You left me and I was sad and angry and at f-first he made it worse b-but then he started to confuse me b-by confessing to me, and now I..." You couldn't even finish before you just started uncontrollably crying.

The man beside you just watches the tears fall from your face. It's all his fault-- or at least, that's what he thinks anyway. There's another guy and he blames himself for distancing himself in the first place. Had it not been for that you wouldn't be crying right now, right?

A tsunami of self-hate crashes over Choso and he simply drowns in the feeling. He despises the fact that this could've been avoided. Maybe he should've never gotten the tattoo? Maybe that's also why? Fuck, what the hell is he supposed to do right now? How does he comfort you?

Your hands go up and you cover your face, weeping so terribly at the entire situation. You no longer cared that Choso was seeing you like this because you didn't have it in you to contain all these emotions you've been feeling. You've been wanting to cry all day, especially when Gojo gave you that damn necklace.

Speaking of which, it's still around your neck.

As Choso panics and his brain goes frantic whilst trying to figure out the proper thing to say or do, his eyes suddenly catch sight of the jewelry in question. He's no stranger to accessories, especially the ones you wear so, it doesn't take much thought to realize that not only is the item expensive but it's also new.

His mouth is moving on his own and Choso fails to hold his tongue, "Is that from him?"

You move to wipe your eyes with your sleeves and then look at Choso for only a second before dropping your gaze down to where his is. "Yeah," You sap, only saddened more and more by the second.

A hand is lifted to the item and you watch Choso run his fingers beneath the item for a long moment. He's deep in thought, still trying to figure out how he should handle this situation.

"I-It's his Christmas gift to me," You continue, seeing no point in lying or avoiding an explanation, "T-That's why I'm so... S-So damn-," You sniffle again, "E-Emotional. First him with this and then y-you with the painting and the tattoo and I just don't get it. Nothing makes sense anymore. I think I want you b-but I also think I want him a-and he's bad for me but he can also be so fucking good to me, and I just-"

Choso cuts you off by voicing your name in an emotionless tone. He realizes where he needs to take this conversation and before he gets pissed off, he wants to stop you from talking. His hand leaves your neck and he rests it in his lap, flicking his gaze back up to your eyes.

The man's eyes are still full of emotion, despite his dry tone, "You just told me a bunch of shit that has nothing to do with me." Choso says and he nearly sounds upset but he's not.

"I-I'm sorry," You frown and look away from him, feeling like he's mad at you. Which, wasn't exactly helping your scrambled emotions.

Choso shakes his head, "Don't be," His tone softens and he takes a really deep breath, "I'm not mad at you, princess. And uh, you have nothing to be sorry for."

You're still crying and your head is starting to hurt, "But-"

"No buts." He interrupts, "I uhm... I don't know why you started telling me about him?" Choso says in a questioning tone, chuckling a little. He then leans in closer to you, "Baby it's me and you right now." He emphasizes, angling his head to the side a little so that you can meet his gaze, "Hey, look at me."

You struggle to, biting your lower lip and just barely placing your eyes on his.

"That's it," Choso praises, his voice now as gentle as it should've been from the beginning. "It's just me and you, princess. Don't compare what I do to what he's done because none of that matters when you're with me."

"Choso I..." You trail off, your crying continuing as you go unsure of what to say.

"If it's too much, I can get the tattoo removed. It's not that big of a deal, trust me I won't be upset. And, while I'm glad you told me that there's another guy," Choso sighs heavily, "I don't need you to tell me about what he does or doesn't do for you."

You swallow and simply keep your weeping eyes on his as he speaks.

He's clearly calmed down from the initial emotions he felt and he knows how to speak to you in a way that makes you feel comforted, "I don't care about what he says to you or what he buys for you and you shouldn't either. If he's an asshole, let him be that. Why would you let him bring you to these emotions?"

"Because Choso," You try not to choke over your words, "He just..."

"Does he tell you he loves you? Is that why?" Choso asks carefully.

You nod your head yes.

Choso comforts you with a little smile, "I mean... I do too." He suddenly says.

"W-What?" You whisper, confused by his words.

The man shrugs, "I love you," Choso claims proudly, his affirmation caressing the wounds of your poor confused heart in more ways than one. "In case I haven't made that clear, especially after two months of separation..." His hands move to yours and he holds them tightly while gazing into your eyes, "I love you."

"C-Choso, you don't... you're joking, r-right?" You whine, your voice light and airy as you only continue to sink into your sadness.

He shakes his head, "No, princess. I mean it, I'm in love with you. This isn't exactly how I planned on confessing but," He shrugs a little, "You need to know. I'm not that other guy so, I-I can't make it sound all pretty or buy you the world like he probably can but..."

You stare at him with wide eyes as you await his next words.

Choso leans closer to you, his grasp on your hands tightening before he pulls them up to his mouth and kisses across your knuckles, "I can give you mine. Can't' buy you the world baby but, I can give you all I have. M'not rich like him so I can't buy your smiles b-but," He stammers over his words as he grows nervous, "I can give you the best parts of me."

"Choso..." You just frown. You've never known how exactly to respond to these confessions.

"All I can do is hope that's enough," Choso continues, "I hope I'm enough, baby."

"Y-You are Choso," You say quickly, "You're more than enough for m-me. I'm just... I'm just dumb and I c-can't pick," You ramble, suddenly degrading yourself as you place the blame for it all on yourself. You close your eyes, "It's all my fault, I shouldn't be doing this to you, you don't deserve this. I-If it wasn't for-"

"Hey, stop that," Choso interrupts, "Don't... Don't blame yourself. You can't control people falling for you. You can control how people treat you or how they confuse you-"

"It is my fault though," You cut off, opening your soaked eyes, "M-Maybe if I... If I just..." You couldn't even get it out because that would mean revealing the list. Instead, your brows tense and your sobbing furthers, "If I just... i-ignored y-you... and m-maybe him-"

A pair of hands gently cup your face and Choso pulls you to him, "It's not your fault." He whispers.

"But I-"

He utters your name, "Stop. It's not your fault, okay?"

"Then who's is it if not mine?" You whine, "Hm? Who do I blame-"

"Everyone else," Choso says, "Blame me, blame him, it doesn't matter. Just, don't blame yourself when it's not your fault."

"I-"

Your name is spoken, "It is not your fault." Choso voices out yet again, "I mean, I... I always had a feeling, y'know? Like, I was always scared of this."

Your brows tense more than they already are, "S-Scared of what?"

"Losing you to someone else," Choso explains, "When you said you weren't ready for a relationship, I knew I had to distance myself but... Had I known this would happen, I would've never left. I don't know if it's because of him that you didn't want a relationship but-"

"I-It's not, I swear Choso, that's just me." You're sure to make sure it's clear that everything is coming from you and not because of anything else, "I'm just not ready for one. It has nothing to do with you or him, it's just me."

"So, if he asked to be your boyfriend like I did, what would you say?"

"He wouldn't." You hum, "That's the thing, Cho. He's in love with me but he acts like he's not allowed to be and then he'll purposefully be an asshole to try and push me away. All of that on top of the fact that he's keeping things from me that'll change the way I see him and-"

"Baby," Choso calls softly, "It sounds like... I dunno it just seems like when choosing between me and him, your choice should be as clear as day." He says, "He's complicated and I'm not. What's the real reason as to why it's hard for you to pick?"

"Choso... You don't get it." You cry, "He'd tell me how I make him whole. How he'd do anything for me. H-How I'm his eternity. How... e-even in death... his heart would beat for me." You choke out, crying as you recite the words of another man to one who loves you just as much.

The male beside you nods understandingly, "So it is his words?"

"N-No, I-"

"Do you think I wouldn't do the same?" Choso cuts off passionately. "He may die for you but darling, I'm willing to live for you."

Your breath hitches, "I-"

"You're his eternity and an eternity is exactly what I'd wait for you to come running into my arms," There's not an ounce of hesitation in his words, each syllable coated with genuine love, "I will wait for you until you tell me not to. I'm yours even if you aren't mine."

"Choso, please-"

"I crave you. Only you. Your touch, your stares, your smile, your smell, your laughter, your love-- you are the only person I want." Choso pours out, "I will never love anyone the way I love you. Even if you tell me to move on, even if I end up with someone else, never will I be able to experience the bliss that is yearning for you again."

You smile through your tears, "I t-thought you weren't good with words?"

"I'm not," Choso chuckles breathily, "But... T-There's things I've rehearsed saying to you, I just needed to wait for the right time."

"And now's that time?"

"Now is that time." He confirms, "You make me nervous, y'know? I get shy around you, I start sweating, I stammer on my words sometimes, and I love the eye contact but your gaze mesmerizes me. I'm stuck in a sense of wanting to break and continue the eye contact at the same time." Choso admits to you.

There's this blooming in the pit of your stomach as you listen to him, all while still looking into his eyes and holding his hands. "Choso you don't have to force yourself to say these things..."

"It's not forced, trust me. I mean every word but, I'm usually not good at getting them out." He shrugs a little, "So, to make up for that, I try to put it into my art. This is why I call you my muse. Every artistic thing I've done recently has been done with you in mind."

"Choso I can't..." You sniffle strongly, "I don't know what t-to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I..." He takes a deep breath, "I've been trying to work up the courage and tell you all this for months. Before I left, I should've said every word on that damn painting to you. I should've told you about how hard I've fallen for you."

Your crying is a bit more at ease now, having slowed down simply because of his caressing tone and his well-thought-out words.

"Again, words aren't my thing and they never will be but," A single tear trickles out of his eyes, "Please hear me when I say I'm all yours. I will wait and wait and wait for you to want me, to accept me, and to have me. If I was given one purpose in this world it's to love you, to cherish you as if you were my last breath, to make you happy by any means, and t-to... to be or do whatever it is you want me to."

God damn. What are you supposed to make of such a confession? First Gojo and now Choso. Both of their confessions weigh heavy in your mind. You don't even know who's would be considered better or who's you'd want to accept and fall for.

Blinking away what's left of your tears, you pull a hand from his grasp and wipe away the single tear that he let slip out, smiling softly but brokenly at the man, "Choso, you liar," You say teasingly, "You're perfect with words."

"A-Am I as good as him?" Choso questions, a slight pout taking over his expression. He's not sure where it came from but he was suddenly comparing himself to whoever his competition is.

You tilt your head, "That doesn't matter, remember?" You whisper, moving to hold the side of his face with your hand, "It's jus' you and me, right?"

He chuckles a little, "Yeah... S-Sorry..."

"It's okay," Your words are coming out more lovingly than you knew.

"U-Uhm, and if none of that was direct enough," Choso leans into your touch before bringing his hand over your own, "I'll say it as many times as needed; I love you. You make me feel so comfortable, so secure without even saying anything, I wish I... I wish I could explain it more... I wish I could audibly paint the feelings you give me."

"It's okay, Choso. I don't need you to say it, I can feel and see it," You reply. Your voice is a bit hoarse now from the crying but neither of you mind.

"Unlike my normal work, it'd be so vibrant and filled with so many shades," Choso expresses artistically, "Every moment with you gives me a reason to be. I want to be able to love you in every way possible so that you can understand it. Please allow me to adorn you with my love, let me illustrate my feelings into your heart."

You smile fully, unable to stop yourself, "That's so beautiful, Cho. Who am I to deny you of such a request?"

His expression mirrors your own, a sappy emotional smile spreading across his face, "I love you so much."

The words begin to leave your lips without you even thinking, "I lo-"

"Don't," He cuts off carefully, "Don't say it back until you're ready."

"But," You swallow down the claim, "What if I'm ready now?"

"You're not." He chuckles lightly.

Your brows furrow, "How do you know?"

"Because," Choso sighs, "You're just not. You and I both will know when you're ready. But as of now, you're not."

"But-"

"No buts, princess."

A pout takes over your expression, "So how am I supposed to respond to you saying you love me?"

He shrugs, "Say thank you." Choso chuckles playfully.

"Thank you??" You scoff, "That feels mean."

"Saying it back without meaning it or knowing if that's how you really feel is mean," Choso explains, "I'd prefer you either say nothing or say thank you, you know how I feel about lies..."

Your voice gets stuck somewhere in your throat. Of course he'd say that now after you'd been lying to him since the day you met him. Well, does not telling him about the list really count as a lie?

You're not sure but you sigh at the man, "Okay, fine. Thank you for loving me, Choso."

He flashes that sexy yet lazy smile of his, "You're welcome, baby."

With that, you were suddenly feeling how you normally feel with Choso-- at peace. You didn't realize it but the two of your souls had found a heavy sense of salvation in one another, your hearts and minds binding together unconsciously as your eyes gazed into his.

Sanctuary was discovered within his eyes and you knew in that moment that Choso meant it when he said he'd wait for you. As long as it takes, as long as you needed, he'd be there for you when you were ready. Part of you wishes this conversation had taken place before he left, maybe things would have gone differently...

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"So uhm," Choso starts up again after a while, breaking the eye contact and looking down to his waist for a moment, "Do I really have to get it removed?"

"Uhm..." You think for a second and then shrug, "It's up to you, Cho. It's your body-"

"No," He cuts off, looking up and into your eyes once more, "I belong to you."

That makes your heart skip a beat or two. Choso says it so openly and quickly that it's almost frightening. How can someone be so devoted to you?

"Choso, you do know you're your own person, right?" You hum, laughing a little.

He shrugs, "I mean, in a literal sense, yes. But even so," He turns to face you a bit more, "I'm still yours."

"Yeah?" You whisper.

Choso bites his lower lip and glances down to your lips, "Yes baby, m'all yours."

Your hand goes to his jaw and you caress his skin with your thumb as the two of you peer into one another's eyes, "Even after I told you there's someone else?"

"Told' you I don't give a shit about him," Choso spits out, one of his hands going to your waist and casually tugging you a bit closer, "You could go tell him for all I care, tell him you don't need him because you have me."

You chuckle, "That's not nice, Cho."

"Ask me if I care." He says, his voice lowering, "He hurt your feelings and confused you so, why can't you hurt his?"

You roll your eyes playfully at Choso's words, "It's not that simple, baby."

"Yes it is-," He pauses. "Wait, what?" Choso blinks, trying to figure out if he misheard you, "What'd you just say?"

"I said it's not that simple," You tease.

He shakes his head, "Nahh, what'd you say after that? What'd you call me?"

"I didn't call you anything."

"Yes you did, you called me baby," Choso says.

"I-" You're cut off by him tugging you by your waist and then pulling your leg over him.

The man situates you in his lap, "Say it again." He orders.

"W-What?" You laugh nervously, "Say what again, Cho?"

"C'mon, call me that again." Choso requests, "Please?"

"Call you what?? Cho?" You ask innocently.

He pouts and his hands slip under your shirt, his fingers warm as they trace the frame of your waist, "Call me baby again."

"Why?" You hum as you tilt your head at him.

Choso grips onto your sides and you feel his hips lift into you ever so slightly, making your breath stutter. "Because I liked it, I like any nickname you call me." He claims.

You chuckle at him and move to cup his face in your palms, soon swiping your thumb under his eye to rid the residue of his tear, "You're so cute, Choso."

He bites his lip, "Am I?"

"Mhm." You hum.

"What else?" Choso asks, raising a brow.

"You want me to say more??" You scoff a little, "Want' me to start listing the things I like about you?"

He shrugs a little, "After hearing that I have competition... I won't lie, it'd be nice to know what you like about me..."

You release a soft sigh, "Well... I actually love the way you look at me."

"Love?" Choso echos, "You love the way I look at you?"

Your head nods, "Mhm."

"Why?"

"It's like... I dunno, I feel seen. But not in a physical or literal sense," You try to explain as best as you can, "In like, a spiritual sense almost? It's like you see... me?"

Choso smiles at you, "I get what you mean."

"Yeah, well, I really love that. Uhm, I also like your face," You murmur, squishing his cheeks in your hand a little as you do so, to which he laughs. "Sometimes you can be really cute and other times you can be really sexy."

"Yeah?" Choso's cheesing at this point, "Which do you prefer?"

"I dunno, I like you both ways." You tell him with a little shrug.

"Mhm..." The male nods his head, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I also like how family-oriented you are," You point out, "The way you care for Yuji is so admirable."

"Is it really?"

"Yeah, and it's cute the way you boast about him and your other brothers," You say.

Choso shrugs, "I didn't think anyone would pay that much attention to the way I talk about them."

"I do."

"And that's exactly why I love you."

You smile, "Right. Now, since we're on that topic, tell me why."

"Why I love you?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head.

Your hands slip down from his face and snake around his neck as you lean into him a little, "Mhm."

"Your fuckin' eyes," Choso breathes out, "From the day we ran into each other in the hallway, I've been obsessed. I love your eyes. I love it when you look at me, even when you're mad or sad, I can't help but love all the things I see in your eyes."

You bat your eyelashes at him, "Aw, really?"

"Yeah, you say so many things through your gaze." Choso expresses, "I always pay attention to them."

"Is that your favorite thing about me or something?" You giggle.

"I think so, yeah," He grins, "It's hard to pick just one thing but yeah, that might be my favorite."

Your smile grows and the male below you is so enamored by you.

"Even when we'd uh... y'know... I'll always prefer to be able to look you in the eyes," Choso claims.

You raise a brow and act innocent, "When we what?"

"You know what."

"No, I don't..."

"When we fuck, princess." Choso says with a sassy roll of his eyes, "I like watching the way your eyes roll back when my cock is stuffed inside you jus' right-"

"Holy f-fuck, okay, okay, you didn't have to say all that," You rush out to the man, your face heating up.

He snickers, "Why? Are you still embarrassed about the things we've done?"

"K-Kinda..." You murmur.

"Aww, that's so cute," Choso coos, "Remember when I made you squirt all over my car seats?"

Your eyes widen, "Choso-"

"Or that time you passed out on me because I was eating you out for too long."

"Choso I swear-"

He smirks, knowing his words are riling you up, "Fuck, wait, or that time you had my legs shaking because of how good you rode me-"

"Choso!" You cut off, your eyes widening and your arousal suddenly increasing as you recall each time, "I r-remember it all, you don't have to remind me."

"My bad..." He murmurs innocently. Then, he tips his head to the side, "Do you really remember though?"

You roll your eyes, "Of course I remember."

"No, not just the sex itself," Choso goes on to explain, "Do you remember how it felt?"

"Duh-"

One of his hands shifts from your waist and to your stomach, pushing against your skin slightly, "No baby, do you remember how deep inside you my cock goes?"

Your breathing grows a bit heavier, "Y-Yeah-"

"Tell me then," Choso smirks mischievously, "Explain to me where you usually feel me."

"C-Choso-"

"Nope, don't C-Choso me," The man mocks you dramatically, making his voice all high-pitched for a second to tease you, "Explain it to me or I'll remind you," He says in a surprisingly lowered voice.

Your eyes narrow at the way he mocked you and you then roll your eyes. "Remind me then."

"Askin' or tellin' me to?" Choso questions for clarification.

You send him a serious look, "I'm telling you to." You reply, moving your hands to his shoulders, "Remind me how deep inside me you reach."

Choso swallows, "Verbally or physically?"

"Maybe both," You shrug.

He smirks and his hands slip down to your hips. As soon as his fingers settle in place, you roll your crotch forward a little and he inhales sharply.

"Both?" Choso whispers out.

"You heard me," You hum.

He pulls his lower lip into his mouth for a second before you suddenly grind yourself backward and make his brows furrowed and his lips part to release a breath of air.

"Shit," Choso curses.

You lean closer to his face and arch your back a little as you do so, pressing your chest against his, "C'mon now, baby. Remind me how deep inside me you reach."

His cock twitches to life at the sound of the nickname and your sudden sultry tone, "You know how deep inside you I reach, princess."

You shake your head, "I don't care, remind me."

Choso tips his head back against the couch and smiles, "You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

"Did I not make it obvious enough yet?" You ask, tilting your head.

Choso gently humps his growing erection up against your warmth, "It's been a minute, princess..."

"So?"

"I'm really pent up," Choso explains, "You sure you want me to take that out on you?"

You bite your lower lip in thought, "Mhm." You hum in response after a minute.

He scoffs, "Yeah?" Choso licks his lips, "I went two months without you... Do you know what that does to a man?"

"Two months without pussy?" You purposefully chuckle at him in a taunting manner, "I'm sure you're fine-"

Choso groans out your name and his eyelids lower, "I'm about to fuck the shit outta' you."

"Do it then." You challenged.

How did you two go from confessing to here? You don't know and you don't think you really care. After all, it's not the first time sex has been intertwined with emotions. And when it's Choso, you're all the more excited for it.

He sighs loudly, "Before I do, remember' our safe word?"

Oh, you'd almost forgotten. The two of you did end up needing one... Especially after the man would eat you out until he wasn't even breathing anymore. He nearly passed out on you a few times because he'd forgotten to breathe. Plus, Choso tended to get rough every now and then.

"Vanilla," You chuckle out, "Don't worry, I remember."

He nods, "Good," Choso then leans forward and kisses you briefly, "Cause' I'm about to fuck you til' your cum is all over my legs."

And just like that, you were ridiculously horny. "Fuck, that's so..." You swallow down your words, "S-Since when do you talk like that, Cho?"

He stares at you with lustful eyes, "Since I went two months without you." Choso claims, "I told you... I'm really pent up."

"You poor thing," You murmur, purposefully frowning at him.

"Don't tease me." He grunts.

"It's okay, Cho..." You whisper, leaning toward him again, "You can take it all out on me."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[aerynwrites]

Bound by The Heart (And Other Things)

Dammon x Afab!Reader

A/N: yeah uh…I don’t even have a reason for this other than I have my own personal HC that Dammon would be into bondage lmao. But like…the pretty kind. Hope y’all enjoy :3

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW. Smut, PiV sex, cunnilingus, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, bondage, rope bondage, restraints, discussions of a safe word but it;s never used, aftercare, fluff.

The weathered leather book is heavy in your hands as you examine the title. 

A Pleasurable Deal. 

The text immediately strikes you as one you’ve seen before, and heat rushes to your cheeks when the memory of a banned books list in Sorcerous Sundries comes to the front of your mind. 

You remember Gale lamenting the list, saying no texts - no matter how obscene - should never be banned. 

You hadn’t given much thought to the list until now, as the book sits in your hands. And the fact that you found it hidden away in Dammon’s side table. 

Despite having been with the blacksmith for months now, you’d never seen this specific tome. Either because it was a new item he’d acquired or…a well loved one he'd kept hidden away. 

You’re assuming it’s the latter if the worn corners of the leather cover and the bent pages have anything to say. 

You move to put the book back, not wanting to intrude on your partners privacy, but as you move to slide it back into place, another book catches your eye. This one tucked behind several other blacksmithing texts. 

It looks rather ornate, the black binding inlaid with gold colored trimmings. 

Before you can stop yourself, you’re already reaching for the book, fingers sliding along the smooth cover and pulling it from its place. 

Your eyes fall to the cover, eyes widening as you read the title. 

A Madam's Guide to Pleasure. 

The cover falls open before you can think better of it, your eyes immediately flicking to the small piece of paper sticking out from a section farther into the book. You yearn to flip to that page first, but your eyes instead fall to scan the table of contents. 

Your face gets even hotter as you read over the various section titles. Everything from the basics when it comes to sex to the more debauched. 

Finally, you flip the pages to where the paper sticks out, only to have a few pieces of folded parchment fall into your lap to reveal the title of the section they were tucked into. 

‘Bondage’

The otherwise wicked ideal behind the term is hidden by the pretty flowing script on the page. Your eyes follow the words easily, slowly feeling your heart rate pick up as you take in the text. 

You’ve only made it halfway through the section when you remember the papers that fell into your lap. Setting the book down gently and open to the page you left off, you reach down and unfold the pages. 

The first thing you feel is shock followed by a sudden stab of arousal as you take in the charcoal images sketched onto the pages. 

It’s Dammon’s work, you’d be able to tell his artistry from anywhere thanks to the hundreds of sketches he’s shown you of blacksmithing plans. 

But these…these are not blueprints of swords or daggers or armor. No…

These sketches are something else entirely. Light and dark lines coming together as he depicts various different types of bondage scenarios. 

None of the pictures are lewd in anyway besides their obvious connotation. In a way…they’re quite beautiful. 

You see the vague shape of a body, legs tied together with an intricate weave of rope and knots, as if it’s meant to decorate the wearer rather than restrain them. 

Almost all of the drawings seem that way, the rope and bindings tied and wrapped in a way that’s almost artistic. 

The one that catches your eye the most though, is a page that depicts the front and back view of a woman kneeling and sitting on her heels. 

The sketch of her from behind shows her hands bound behind her back, the ropes binding her arms together in an intricately woven pattern that spans from her wrists all the way up to just beneath her shoulders. 

The other view seems to be part of the same design, the ropes snaking to the front of her body, twining delicately over her breasts, sternum and chest in complicated knots and patterns. 

You’ve just reached up to trace your finger over the sketchings of rope, when a startled call of your name rips you from your reverie. 

“What are you doing?”

Dammons voice is raised louder than he usually speaks to you, face several shades darker than usual as he practically lunges for the items in your hands, a look of utter fear and panic on his face. 

“Oh, gods,” he mutters, hastily collecting the papers before shoving them back into the black bound novel. “You weren’t supposed to see that, I-“ 

“Dammon it’s okay! I promise-“ 

He turns to you then, book clutched tightly in his hands, as he looks at you with something none other than utter betrayal. “Why were you going through my things?” He asks. 

You shake your head, heart sinking to your stomach and dispelling any feelings of arousal the drawings drew forth. 

“I didn’t mean to, I came up here looking for one of my books and I saw you stored some in here and so I thought-“ 

“You thought you’d go through my books instead?” He asks, voice now tinged with accusation as he stands, the book still clutched tightly in his hands. 

“I’m sorry Dammon,” you say from your position still kneeled on the floor. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“

“I-I’m not upset, I-“ the tiefling cuts himself off, running a hand down his face as he lets out a sigh, avoiding your gaze. “I just…need some air.”

You watch helplessly as Dammon turns and leaves the bedroom, a pit of guilt stirring deep in your belly. 

————

Dammon spends the rest of the day in the forge, which isn’t unusual, but it feels like an intentional choice today. One you don’t begrudge him considering you snooped through his personal things. 

It’s well into the evening before he comes into the house, and you’re just finishing up dinner. You watch him between plating your meals as he hangs up his blacksmith apron next to the door before heading to the water basin to wash his hands. 

You’ve just placed the last of the food onto your plates when he approaches you, taking one of the plates from your hands with a quick kiss to your cheek.

A small weight is lifted from your shoulders at that small action, and you follow him silently to the kitchen table, taking your habitual seat to his right side. 

The meal is pleasant enough, you tentatively asking about his forge projects and feel the tension lift as he tells you about them. It goes on like that - like normal despite the nagging in your mind. 

You don’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up the earlier incident. But you also don’t want to leave it how it was. You owe him an apology, a real apology, and…there’s something else you want to talk to him about too.

You finally find the courage to bring it all up as you and Dammon clean up after dinner, you drying the washed dishes as Dammon puts them away. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, Dammon,” you say softly, not missing the way his shoulders tense as he takes a plate from you, eyes avoiding yours once more. 

“It’s…It’s alright,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not angry or upset with you, not over something so trivial. I was just…” he lets out a dry chuckle. “I supposed I’m a bit embarrassed for you to have come across such things. I know they aren’t…Common desires.” 

He’s still turned away from you when he finishes, stashing the last dish before his hands fall to his sides. You immediately reach for him, taking his hand in your own as you urge him to face you. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you tell him, feeling that familiar heat creep up into your cheeks as you contemplate your next words. 

“I actually…Liked them. The drawings, I mean.”

Dammon’s eyes finally snap to yours then, bright blue iris’ completely visible to you as he stares at you wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. 

“You…what?”

You take your lip between your teeth coyly, courage slowly building up in your chest as you move to slip your arms around his waist, hands resting on his low back as returns the lose embrace. 

“I liked them,” you repeat. “It looked…beautiful really. The intricate designs and knots and I…”

You pause then, shyness creeping in one more as you look up at your lover. 

“I think I’d like to try it sometime. If that’s - if you’d want too, of course.”

You can practically see the way Dammon’s heart rate picks up, cheeks darkening with blush as his breath stutters. 

“You’d…You’d try that? With me?” 

A small chuckle slips past your lips. “I hope it’s with you.”

In an answer of his own, Dammon captures your lips with his in a fierce kiss. It’s needy and desperate and filled with a relief only you can understand as he pulls you tighter to him. 

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips before pulling down to trail kisses down your jaw. “We can’t do it tonight,” he says. “I need to prepare.”

You try to hide the small swell of disappointment, but Dammon must sense it anyways, nipping at the spot just below your ear as he tugs you closer to his body. 

“I’m still going to ravish you tonight though. For making me the happiest man in Baldur’s Gate.”

You smile, pulling him up for another kiss before he whisks you upstairs. Anticipation for tonight and what’s to come in the future simmering low in your belly.

—————

It’s only a few days later when Dammon brings it back up, asking if tonight you’d like to try what you all had discussed. When you agreed, a bit too eagerly, he had just let out a small laugh before laying out all of the boundaries. 

He had you pick a safeword in case you wanted out of the restraints, as well as asking you about anything you’d be uncomfortable with. In the end you’d just told him you trusted him completely and once again stated your excitment. 

Which led you here, blindfolded on the edge of your shared bed in nothing but your smallclothes. 

Dammon had tied the soft silk fabric around your eyes before leaving the room to fetch something, asking that you not remove the blindfold before he got back. You obeyed easily, but as the seconds turn into minutes, you feel yourself start to grow impatient. 

What is taking him so long?

Your fingers twitch against your skin from where your hands sit on your thighs before moving to be by your side instead, toying with the soft sheets beneath you. Every creak and faint footstep has your ears perking up, waiting in anticipation for Dammon to return. 

Finally, you hear his familiar footsteps coming up the stairs and to your shared room, the floor boards creaking beneath his weight. His steps are softer than when he left, the sound of bare soles on the wood greeting your ears as he approaches your position. 

He must have taken off his shoes. And you silently hope he took off other things as well, wanting to feel him at least a little bit before you're restrained. 

“Are you still alright?” he asks, his voice much closer than you anticipated. 

You jump slightly as you realize he’s right in front of you now, and you can feel the subtle heat radiating from his body. You nod, reaching out instinctively to touch him. 

He allows it, sighing lightly when your hands bump against his bare stomach, flattening against the taut muscle there before sliding upwards. You can feel the faint ridges and bumps unique to his skin as you continue upwards, gliding over his chest before coming back down again, mapping him in your blinded state. You only stop when your fingers meet rough fabric - the waistband of his pants. 

You hear the faint sound of his tail brushing the ground intermittently, and you can’t help but smile as your fingers curl beneath the band of his pants. But before you can get any further, familiar calloused hands stop your own, pulling you away from his skin. 

“If you do that, I’m afraid we won’t accomplish what we planned to do tonight,” he says breathlessly. 

You are still amazed that such simple touches drive him crazy, but you can’t help but relish in it, because you feel the same anytime Dammon touches you. As if your body can’t get enough. 

Tonight might be the night that it does. 

“Can you give me your hand?” he asks, and you hear him rustling around with something. 

“Of course.”

You offer him your hand and he takes it, turning it palm up and placing a long thin object in your palm. He curls your fingers round it, and when he offers no complaint, you reach up with your other hand to further investigate what it could be. 

“It’s the rope I’m going to use,” he informs you as your fingers trail along the braid material. “It’s…This is why we had to wait. I had to find someone who…dealt with these kinds of things.”

You let out a small hum as you run the rope through you hands, and you slowly begin to understand what he means. It’s smoother than any rope you’ve ever used, so smooth in fact that it feels like silk. It’s sturdy too, not too thick but not so thin it will dig uncomfortably into your skin if it gets tight. It’s like it was created for this purpose alone. 

And perhaps it was. 

You’re no stranger to the more debacuhed happenings in the city. Hells - you’ve been inside Sharess’ Caress. They probably use rope like this in abundance there.

“It’s so…soft,” you say finally, reaching out to offer the rope back to him. 

“Yes I…” He trails off for a moment before continuing. “This isn’t supposed to be painful,” he informs you, and you feel the bed dip beside you, his voice shifting to your right side. “It can be of course but…Not tonight. It’s more about the control I suppose. The art of it.”

You nod as you feel a warm hand settle on your hip. “That makes sense. The drawings I saw were beautiful in a way and also…” you trail off, heat creeping into your cheeks. “Let’s just say I was never put off by the idea once I saw it.”

You can hear the way Dammon’s breath catches, his nails digging into the flesh of your hip ever so slightly. “I should have suggested it sooner, it seems.”

You smile, leaning in to where you think his body is. “You should have.”

He lets out a sigh, and you feel the way it brushes against your temple as he speaks. 

“Well…We’re here now,” he says, slowly dragging his hand from your hip up your back before settling on your shoulder. “Are you ready for me to start?”

You let out a breath of your own, anticipation bubbling in your veins as you shift in your place, eager to get started. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Slowly and with whispered instructions he guides you so your are on your knees on the bed, sitting on your heels as you face away from him. Once you’re in position his fingers skim up to unhook the clasps of your bra, sliding it gently from your shoulders before tossing it somewhere off to your left. 

“If you wanted me naked you could have just said so,” you tease, smiling when it earns youa  chuckle from teh man behind you. 

“That ruins the fun,” he says, and you finally feel the cool slide of rope against your arms. “This is…a lot of this is about the anticipation,” he tells you, breath ghosting over your ear as he gently guides your arms into position behind your back. “The gentle touches, the slow act of tying the rope, the build of what’s to come…”

He has you bend your arms behind your back, forearms almost crossing as he starts to slide the rope beneath them, wrapping it over just a few times before starting to tie the first knot, securing your arms together. 

He continues like that for long agonizing moments. The cool rope sliding against your heated skin as he pulls, tugs, and knots the smooth cord into a masterpiece only he can see. The design soon travels from your forearms upwards above your elbows, as he begins to connect your arms together once more. He threads the rope beneath your right arm, hands ghosting across your back as he brings it over to your left, looping it over your bicep and back again, creating an intricate set of loops and ties that secure your arms behind you further, pulling your shoulders back to just the bare edge of discomfort. 

Dammon was right. This is about the anticipation.

Because with each slide of the rope, with each brush of his fingers or ghost of his lips on your skin, you feel a new pang of arousal pool in your core. You shudder with each pass of the cord on your skin, breath hitching with each knot he tugs into place. 

And Dammon, who’s never known to keep his hands from you for too long, can’t help but to touch you in between. His sharp nails ghosting along your skin, kisses pressed to your shoulder as he mutters words of praise…you can feel yourself getting wet already, and he’s barely even touched you. Not in the way you desire most, at least. 

A whimper slips past your lips when he finally pulls away from you, the last piece of rope in place agasint your arms. But his absence doesn’t last long before he’s back again, his arms snaking around you as a new rope presses against the delicate skin of your lower belly. 

“Are you still alright?” he asks, warm breath ghosting over your cheek as his head comes up beside yours to look down at your exposed body. His chin tucks perfectly against your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek, waiting patiently for you to answer before he continues.

When you do find your words, they come out small, a mere gasp on your lips. 

“Yes,” you assure him. “I just…wish you would touch me. I didn’t…this is more than i expected.”

You feel him tense behind you, his hands stilling. “We can stop at anytime-”

“No!” you almost shout, leaning back into your lover in a silent plea. “Please, don’t stop. I only meant…I didn’t expect to react so strongly to just this.”

Dammon clicks his tongue, letting out a low hum of understanding as his hands start to move again, the rope sliding softly against your skin. 

“If it makes you feel any better…” Dammon trails off, wrapping the rope around your front again, allowing him to press himself against your back, the hardness of him pressing into your low back. “It’s having the same affect on me.”

His words, and the feeling of him hard as steel pressing into your skin is enough to send another bolt of pleasure through you. You expect him to pull away to continue his work, but he does no such thing, instead aiming to stay pressed as close to you as possible as he works on his art. 

Each moment feels agonizing as he slowly winds the ropes up your body, fingers braiding and knotting the pieces together, fingers brushing against your skin, but never doing much more. 

Your breath leaves you in shallow pants, and you can’t help it when you press your hips back into his own, desperate for any kind of touch, any friction to sooth the ache simmering in your veins.

A small groan leaves Dammons lips, and you feel a small tug the the ropes around your arms. “We’ll get there,” he whispers, leaning down to brush a tender kiss to your shoulder. “You’re doing so well, my love. I’m almost done.”

You fight to hold back the whine that threatens to slip past when his lips retreat from your skin, but you do, instead moving to lean back against him as he looks back over your shoulder once more to see his work. 

You can feel the way the cords constrict around you, knotting in the center of your body as it travels upwards and spans out to wrap over your ribs and around your back. Soon enough you can feel them start to settle beneath your breasts. His hands barely brush the plush mounds as he ties a secure knot between them before taking the two ends up and over your collarbones to secure at the back of your neck. 

He ties the last knot, a quiet sigh of admiration leaving him as his hands skim over his work, calloused palms ghosting over your skin. 

You feel the bed shift, his warmth leaving your back. You wonder for a moment if he’s leaving again, but you continue to feel him move, until you think he settles in front of you on the plush mattress. The bed creaks softly as he settles, and despite the blindfold, you can feel his eyes boring into you, admiring his work much like he does that which he produces in the forge. 

Dammon is a lot of things, and a proud man is one of them.

He’s never boastful or arrogant. But he loves his work - he’s always proud of what he can accomplish. And it seems that extends to you as well.

You don’t flinch when his hand settles on your cheek, thumb brushing the skin their gently, as he continues to admire you. 

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, his other hand coming up to cup one of your breasts gently. 

A gasp slips past your lips as he runs a thumb over the stiff peak of your nipple, nails scratching the sensitive skin deliciously as he pulls away to trail further down your body. He traces the ropes he tied into place, fingers slipping beneath them every now and again to tug gently. 

“Is it-“ another gasp interrupts you as his hands slide down to brush over your thighs instead. “Is it everything you imagined?” 

Dammon leans forward then, his hands slipping around your hips as his lips fall to your shoulder before trailing down lower to nip sharp teeth at your collar bone. 

“It’s even better,” he breathes. “You’re more magnificent than anything my mind could conjure up.” 

A moan leaves you as his mouth finally reaches your breast, his teeth scarping against the sensitive swell before taking a pert nipple between his lips. 

“Oh, gods…” you gasp, arms tugging at the rope as you instinctively want to reach up to cradle his head in your hands. 

But the restraints keep you in place, completely at his mercy as he continues to lavish your skin with praises and gently love bites. 

You’re burning up now, blood boiling in your veins and desperate for anything Dammon wishes to give you. Something he seems to sense as both arms move to slip around your back as he gently lowers you to lay back on the bed, his lips traveling lower the whole way. 

Your arms are trapped beneath you in this new position, adding to the arousal pooling in your belly as you lay completely open and bare for the man before you. 

His teeth tug at the rope around your hips, hands moving to spread your legs so he can settle between them. 

“Are you still alright, my love?” He asks, fingers creeping slowly up your inner thighs. 

Gods you love him. You really do. But in this moment you want nothing more than for him to ravish you, to tear you completely apart before putting you back together again. 

He can be sweet later. Right now, you want him to fuck you. 

“Yes, yes, Dammon I’m fine,” you assure him, bucking your hips up into his hands. “Just please…fuck me. I cant wait any longer.” 

You would usually be embarrassed by blatantly begging like this, but the feel of Dammons mouth on your wet center removes any and all thoughts but him from your mind. 

His tounge parts your folds running up to tease the small bundle of nerves that sends bolts of pleasure through you. 

You squirm in Dammon’s steel grip, your back arching as he devours you, his fingers digging into your thighs, nails no doubt going to leave behind evidence of his hold on you come morning. 

His name falls from your lips in a lewd prayer, as you buck your hips up into his mouth, seeking more despite the way his tongue moves ravenously against you. 

You feel his hands slide up to the rope around your hips, fingers slipping beneath the cord as he uses it to tug you closer to him, as if he wishes to drown in you. 

His nose nudges at your clit as his tounge prods your entrance, desperate to taste you, his moans sending vibrations through you that make that coil in your belly pull impossibly taut. 

“Fuck,” cry out when he slides one hand to rub expect circles on your clit. “Dammon, I’m close I-“ 

An expert flick of his fingers cuts off your warning, sending you hurtling over the edge into oblivion as Dammon continues to work you through it. 

Incoherent babbles of his name fall from your lips until you finally say back into the bed, chest heaving and legs twitching as Dammon continues to lick at you, certain to leave nothing behind. 

You want to push him away, but without the use of your hands, you squeeze your thighs around his shoulders gently, urging him away from you. 

He obeys with a small sigh, his hand sliding up your body, as his lips follow suit, leaving a moist trail of kisses in his wake before he’s finally pressing them to the underside of your jaw. 

“You’re doing so well, my love,” me mutters against your skin, fingers toying idly with the smooth cord beneath your breasts. 

You smile as you turn your head to capture his lips with your own, tasting yourself on his tounge before pulling away just enough to speak. 

“Can you…Will you take the blindfold off?”you ask. “I’d like to see you.” 

Dammon lets out a low hum, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your lips before reaching up to tug at the silken fabric. 

While the sun has long set, the bedroom is still well lit, lanterns and a few candles lighting the space enough for you to need to adjust to the brightness. 

You blink a few times, leaning into the hand Dammon places on your cheek as his face comes into focus. 

You’ve never seen anything so breathtaking. 

His lips are tilted up in that small smile of his, pupils blown wide with lust as he looks down at you. His cheeks are flushed and errant strands of hair fall from his usually well kept style. 

You yearn to reach up and tuck them back, to card your fingers through his hair or trace around the base of his horns, but you’re once again reminded of the impossibility of that as your arms tug uselessly at your bindings. 

It’s then that you start to recognize the ache in your arms, your hands tingling as they start to fall asleep form their position pinned under you. 

You shift beneath Dammon, and he notices immediately, brow furrowing in silent question. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, voice laced with concern. 

You shake your head. “No it doesn’t hurt. It just-“ you let out a small chuckle. “I think my hands are falling asleep.” 

Dammon nods, and immediately goes to help you sit up, but you stop him with a shake of your head, an idea popping into your head. 

“Wait.” You tell him, nodding your chin up towards where he was previously sitting. “Sit back.” 

He gives you a curious look, and for a moment he hesitates, but he obeys, scooting back to sit on his heels between your legs. 

You notice the hard bulge in his trousers, and any hesitance about your idea flies out the proverbial window. 

With less effort than you expected, you manage to roll over onto your stomach, gathering your knees below you enough to raise your ass in the air, presenting yourself to the man behind you. 

The sharp intake of breath is enough to tell you that Dammon understands your presentation for what it is. And soon two warm hands settle on your hips, trailing up your sides before coming back down again. 

The warmth of him surrounds you soon after, his chest pressed against your back and arms as he leans over you, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders. 

“Are you sure?” 

You let out an exasperated sigh, turning your face so it’s no longer pressed against the sheets. 

“Dammon I swear to the gods, if you went through all this and don’t fuck me-“ 

His lips leave yours in an instant, the heat of him disappearing from behind you as you hear the faint rustle of fabric from behind you. 

His hands settle on your hips again, nails biting into the skin harsher than before as you feel the head of his cock nudge at your entrance. 

You expect him to check in with you again, expect him to ask if you remember your safe word or any amount of other precautions. But he doesn’t. 

Instead he presses into you in one swift thrust, his cock guided easily by your earlier orgasm. 

But it still never prepared you for the size of him. He always stretches you perfectly, the small ridges and bumps unique to his race adding to the sensation of him sinking into you. 

The groan you let out is sinful, and you can’t help but turn to muffle it in the sheets. 

But Dammon isn’t having that. 

A strong tug in the rope between your arms has you pulling up from the bed, the force of the movement pulling you further back onto him until your hips are flush with his own. 

“Don’t hide from me,” Dammon says, tugging at the restraints again, sending him deeper and making the rope dig deliciously into your skin. “I want to hear you.” 

“Oh, gods. Dammon…”

His name falling from your lips finally makes him move, pulling out of you before thrusting back in with one solid movement. 

Your name falls from his lips as he sets a punishing pace, something so different from the reverent way he worshiped your body earlier. 

He curls himself over you, his chest pressed against your back as he plants one hand by your head on the bed, his sharp nails digging deep into the sheets as he holds himself over you. 

He nuzzles his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, nose nudging your jaw as he takes your earlobe between his teeth and tugs. 

Another whimper escapes your lips as he continues his mind blowing pace, hitting that spot inside you as you writhe against the ropes fully now. Hands clenching and unclenching as you press your hips back into his own, seeking your second release of the night. 

“Gods, Dammon, please..” 

you're practically sobbing now, tears wetting your lashes at the intense pleasure that courses through you and the slight frustration of not being able to touch anything - touch him. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his free arm wrapping around your hips to hold you to him as he presses you down, further into the bed his cock pressing impossibly deeper inside of you at the change of position. 

“Let go for me,” he says, voice sinful in your ear. 

His words, and his fingers that slipped down to rub at your clit send you into oblivion for the second time. 

You clench around him, crying out his name in a desperate plea as you squirm against him, veins alight with utter pleasure.

Dammon is not far behind you, just a few more stuttered thrusts and he comes in you with a groan of your name from his lips, his chest rumbling against your back as he sinks down into you, breath coming out in short labored breaths against your cheek. 

Your mind is blissfully blank as you sink into the plush bedding beneath you, completely boneless as your lover adjusts his weight above you. 

You whine when you feel him pull away from you, the room seeming so much cooler without his body next to yours. 

“My love…?” His voice feels a million miles away as he brushes a few strands of hair from your sweat soaked forehead before pressing a kiss there. “Are you alright?”

You chuckle, but it comes out hoarse and weaker than intended. 

“You just…gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m more than alright.” 

You watch through bleary eyes as Dammon blushes, his earlier dominant demeanor disappearing into the Dammon you know and love. 

“I’m going to untie you.” 

You nod, trying to help as much as you can in your blissed out state as he helps you to sit up, maneuvering you until you sit straddling his lap so he can more easily work at the ropes. 

He moves quickly, fingers deftly untying the intricate knots and letting the ropes fall away from your skin. When he loosens the ropes at your back, your hands fall to your sides, a dull ache running from your shoulders down to the tips of your fingers. 

You must have let out some kind of noise or flinched, because as soon as the ropes fall away, Dammon’s hands are on your arms, calloused palms running up and down your arms as he tries to sooth the aches and indentations left behind. 

“They were too tight,” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry, my love I-”

You shush him softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips to quiet his concerns. “I’m alright, Dammon. I promise,” you assure him, smiling as he continued to rub at the light indentation marks left by the ropes. “I liked it,” you finally admit. “I really liked it.”

His minstrations pauses momentarily, hands sliding down to wrap around your waist as he pulls back enough to look down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly. “You’re…not just saying that to please me, are you?”

You can’t help the playful groan that you let out, followed by a small chuckle as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. 

“Only you could give a woman the best orgasm of her life and still question whether she liked it,” you tease, practically feeling the way Dammon rolls his eyes at you.

A small squeal escapes you as Dammon wraps his arms around you more securly as he flips you onto your back again, head hitting the pillow as he hovers over your, lips turned upwards playfully.

“If you think that was the best…I think I have more work to do.”

Your brows wing up in surprise, lips aprting slightly as your mind runs wild with the possibilities. “Is that a challenge, you’re proposing?” you ask.

Dammon smiles, humming low in his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to your jaw. “It might be,” he aquecies. “But for now, i’d just like to hold you and maybe run you a bath. If you’d be so inclined.”

Warmth swells in your chest at his words. Even after something most would consider debacuhed, Dammon still manages to be the sweetest thing in the room. You turn and press a quick kiss to his lips before reching up to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’d Love nothing more.”

He smiles and plops down next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms as he does so. His chin rests on the top of your head as you nuzzle into his chest, your leg tangling with his own until you’re both settled comfortably against one another. 

Comfortable silence fills the space, Dammon trailing light patterns on your back, as you do the same on his chest - both of you just taking a moment to bask in the other's presence. Until Dammon finally speaks up.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to do this,” he tells you softly, voice gentle. 

You nod, moving to slip your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him. “Of course,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you, Dammon.”

You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. 

“I love you more.”

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Duty Over Heart

Pairing: Captain John Price x medic!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, angst, fluff, mutual pining, inappropriate workplace flirting? no power imbalance, f!reader, reader is implied to be American but can be read as anyone

Reader is called "Doc"

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: You and Lieutenant John Price worked together on a mission in Bosnia, only to find out that your lives were forever changed afterwards...

You are currently reading the prologue to Duty Over Heart

(I guess technically lieutenant Price in this but he’s captain in the rest so)

Price can vividly remember what the day felt like after your first mission together.

It had been a nice day, warm and sunny to the point he wondered if maybe he would overheat if there wasn’t a breeze. To him, he could vaguely smell sea salt and the promise of the fish dinner his mother used to make on Sundays after having dragged him to church earlier that morning. The smell of petrol and the feeling of the warmth from a very particular quilt he had grown up sleeping with. 

The feeling, at the time, had been quite odd to him since he had met you far from the ocean and far from Liverpool, the place he had called home up until the age of sixteen before he decided to enlist in the military, but after as many years as the two of you have known each other, he understood why he had remembered those things.

Price had gotten home from a long deployment overseas. Anyone normal would’ve taken the time to settle back within their home, let themselves rest for a moment before they decided to be active again, especially when they had been risking their lives nearly everyday for months on end, but Price was anything but normal.

No one normal killed people for their job, no one normal had to make certain calls that risked the lives of people he would call friends for the rest of the world.

Civilians didn’t see the horrible shit he saw everyday, they shouldn’t in his mind, which was why he had the job he did.

Which was also why he found himself at a football game the day after he had gotten back home. 

He didn’t particularly care for the teams that were playing but that didn’t stop him from getting into the game, not when it kept his mind from wandering into places he wished he could snuff out like the cigars he smoked far too often.

A game was a game, he’d enjoy it if it meant he didn’t have to be reminded of his last deployment.

He had been stuck in his own world, engrossed in the football game when someone sat down next to him. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, it was a busy game and people often got up from their seats and switched them to get better views of the field.

“This seems like a very intense soccer game.”

Price’s face fell into a scowl as he suppressed an eyeroll and he glanced at the woman who sat beside him. 

He could immediately tell she was American, not only because of her accent or because she called football “soccer”, but because of the way she looked. 

She stood out almost like a sore thumb, wearing clothes that American tourists often wore when visiting London as if she were on vacation but he knew better. She sat with confidence but there was an air of professionalism around her that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else and he knew the moment that she looked at him with a smile his leave was going to be cut short.

“It’s football.” He countered and scoffed. “Americans…”

“I didn’t realize you took soccer so seriously, Lieutenant.” She said and this time he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling.

“I find football to be relaxing.”

She raised an amused eyebrow, most likely because she must’ve been around to hear him screaming very angrily about the last couple of calls the refs had made. However, she didn’t say anything to disagree as the crowd around them cheered from a goal that he had missed entirely.

His attention had been taken from the game only to go back to work, as it always did. He could argue with anyone that his entire life was his work and though that was mostly by choice, at the moment he wished he could have just these few hours to himself.

“Kate Laswell, CIA.” She introduced herself with a smile, one that was polite but had a hidden meaning behind it.

“What do you want?” He nearly demanded, unable to keep the poor attitude that had crept into him since the moment she had sat next to him.

Price didn’t want to be rude, normally he wasn’t but his nerves were still high from yesterday and he wasn’t too happy about being interrupted on his time off, let alone during a football game. 

“I need you for an op,” Laswell began and he sucked in his lips. “You’re the best man I know for the job and I can’t afford mistakes on this one.”

“Best man, eh?” He laughed.

It was true that he had gained quite the reputation for himself within the SAS over the many years of his service. He was one of the highly respected soldiers and often the one that many of his higher ups turned to when they wanted the job done. However, it never would’ve occurred to him that he was also considered the best in the minds of the Americans, especially those in the CIA.

For anyone else, they would’ve gotten cocky about it, but for Price, it just meant he worked more often than not.

“I’ll spare you the details right now but I need to know if you’re in.” She said in a serious tone and one look into her eyes, Price knew she meant business.

She was tenacious, he liked that. She didn’t beat around the bush and waste his time with formalities or “politics”. Straight to the point and honest, he couldn’t fault her for that and despite the fact that she wanted to use her silly American words, he was open to working with her.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice if she specifically came looking for him. If the job was that important, then there was nothing that would stop him from taking it, not if it meant there would be lives on the line.

“When?”

“My plane leaves in a few hours, we’ll debrief on the flight and then you’ll be shipped out the day after tomorrow.”

Price nodded and turned his attention back to the game as a long sigh left his chest. He should’ve felt more upset about the fact that he was being pulled away from his home after only being back for less than a day, but he had hardly given himself time to feel at home so it didn’t matter. 

From one job into another, that was his life, and yet when he met you everything became so much more than that.

The plane had touched down in Bosnia on a small base that the CIA occupied for the mission. It was a small operation for how much Laswell had built it up but no less dangerous; a war criminal on the loose, the need for capture to bring in alive, a simple job but Price knew better.

Nothing was ever simple.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had a simple mission, one that didn’t require him to be constantly vigilant. He wasn’t sure those existed, he couldn’t recall a single mission where he hadn’t nearly died, though he was sure there had to be at least one.

Everything had blurred together nowadays, days into weeks, into months, every mission became the same in his mind and the only thing that kept his head on straight was the paperwork detailing what happened.

Laswell led him into a small stuffy conference room, one that didn’t even have and instead had chairs set out as if they were in a classroom. It was only the two of them there and Price waited for the CIA agent to start but she didn’t.

Instead the door opened and in stepped you.

Price couldn’t help the way his eyebrows knitted together when he saw you walking in full gear just like him, ready for a mission. He almost hated to admit to himself that the first thought that went through his mind was that you looked far too soft to be in the military, let alone work on high profile jobs such as these.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, he’d much rather do that after he’s been able to watch you work, but he couldn’t help it when your eyes looked bright as you glanced from him to Laswell and a warm smile stretched across your face.

He had to deliberately ignore the way his chest warmed when he saw it.

“Sorry I’m late, Kate.”

“We’re still waiting for the others.” Laswell dismissed you with a smile of her own. “You and the lieutenant can acquaint yourselves in the meantime.”

The others? Price didn’t have much time to wonder or ask before his attention was taken by you as you stood in front of him practically beaming at him with only what he could assume to be admiration.

He found that all thoughts were forcibly taken from his mind as he sucked in his lips, glancing down at your own, and he grabbed the straps of his vest. 

Up this close, you were quite beautiful which caused him to mentally kick himself for being strange about someone he hadn’t even spoken to yet.

“You’re Lieutenant Price?” You asked and when he nodded your smile grew. “I’ve heard a lot about you, sir, and I’m excited to work with you.”

It took everything in him to hide the disgust he felt when the word sir fell out of your mouth.

You were being polite and respectful, something that many others who he’s met do and yet he didn’t like the way it sounded in your voice. There was something about it, something that put up a barrier he wasn’t sure he liked all that much, not when you seemed so friendly.

That was a stark contrast to many people who had met before, including Laswell. Everyone always approached him only with professionalism that he had gotten accustomed to the longer he worked in his field. 

Was this your first job? This wouldn’t be the first time that someone had paired him up with a rookie and he didn’t have an issue with being the one who would teach you the ropes on this mission if that were the case-

“I’m sergeant L/n.” You introduced yourself and his eyes widened slightly. “I don’t know if Kate has informed you but I’ll be your medic for this assignment.”

Price raised his eyebrows and nodded before he glanced at Laswell. He knew that this was serious but he didn’t realize he would need a medic for it and he couldn’t help but wonder just how bad this war criminal was. 

When he glanced back at you, he saw that there was a little more determination in your eyes than before but you still had that bright look on your face, something that he felt was entirely out of place.

You shouldn’t be in a place like this.

“Good to know I’m not working alone.” He gave you a quick smile. “M’sorry I wasn’t able learn more about you before this.”

“I only know so much because of your extensive medical records.” You gave him a playfully stern look that made him chuckle.

“I’ll try to be more careful this time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll patch you up when you aren’t.”

Price felt his chest warm up as he found he was caught completely off guard by you once again. The look of confidence in your eyes didn’t help as you showed him just how much faith you had in your skills which made him feel a lot more comfortable, despite the fact that he hadn’t felt all that out of place before.

Your voice was warm and the smile on your face made him really believe that maybe this was a joke, that maybe you were brought here by accident despite the fact that you seemed to be well acquainted with Laswell. 

No other medic had even said that to him. It was a medic's job to make sure their team didn’t die if they sustained an injury and yet you had made it seem that it was so much more than that, even when you had just met him. 

He wanted to question you about it, about why you were so friendly, before you excused yourself to speak with Laswell. He was at a loss for words even as two other soldiers came in and the quick briefing started.

You sat next to him and when your knee touched his, he felt himself tense up as he fought back against the weird prickling feeling that came from it.

He glanced at you and for a moment he watched you pay careful attention to Laswell, undisturbed and focused like a soldier as if you hadn’t acted like a completely regular civilian. He studied your face, watching the way you took in the information that he barely processed because he was too focused on you.

As if sensing that he was staring at you, you glanced at him and before he could look away your eyes met. He felt like a creep for being so strange towards you but instead of giving him a look of disgust, you only gave him a shy smile before you looked back at Laswell with that same determined look on your face as before.

His heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to pay attention.

Bloody hell…

~

Price felt the burn of a bullet pierce his shoulder and he ducked behind the wall of the building he hid by. He huffed, gripping his gun tightly as he turned his attention to the area surrounding him while the sound of gunfire went off around him.

Nothing was ever simple.

Even when he and his group had cornered the war criminal in a small shop on an empty street. He had expected that he would give up when he realized that he was pinned and there was no way out.

Unfortunately, he should’ve expected that the man wouldn’t go down without a fight and that he had his own protection with him.

No one was dead. Any civilians around had left the scene and as far as Price knew he was the only one who had been hit by a stray bullet. His main focus was on the war criminal and making sure that he could capture him without killing him.

Price heard someone duck beside him and glanced back to see you, weapon ready as you provided some cover so he could reload his own.

“Is it lethal?” You fired a shot towards the store window, killing one of the other hostiles and ducked back behind cover.

“I’m good!” He grunted and ignored the pain as he raised his weapon to shoot as well. “We need to flank ’em!”

“Just say the word, lieutenant!”

Price kept his eyes on the war criminal and looked for an opening. That’s all he needed in order to get the job done without getting anyone killed, but currently he couldn’t move without the high chance of getting his head blown off.

Suddenly, there was a lull in the gunfire and just as he was about to give the order to move on the building, something flew through the air towards the both of you.

“Grenade!” He called out and grabbed you on instinct.

He pulled you to cover and hid you underneath him as the explosion went off. His attention immediately went back to the war criminal as he heard tires squealing and saw him speed away in a car.

He cursed and helped you up.

“We’ll chase him, the others can cut him off.” You tugged his vest and sprinted towards the humvee you came in together.

Price relayed the plan into the comms and followed right behind you, jumping into the driver side as he pushed the pedal to the floor to pursue the war criminal. It didn’t take long for him to catch up and he kept his distance as bullets began to ricochet off the hood of the humvee.

He tried to pick up his gun to shoot, but the bullet wound in his shoulder sent hot fiery pain that made him clench his jaw tightly.

“How good is your aim?” He glanced at you as you rolled down the window on the passenger side.

“If you keep us steady, I can get the tires.” You sounded confident and he nodded as he watched you pull your gun up.

You leaned out of the window and looked down the sights of your gun. You took a deep breath and fired two shots, the back two tires of the getaway car exploding with a loud pop before the broken wheels began to spark against the pavement. 

The car quickly spun out of control towards the humvee and Price pulled you back inside just as the front smashed into the side of the getaway car.

The two of you were jerked around as glass pieces flew through the air and you smack your head against the dash of the humvee. The getaway car screeched and bent from the crash as both vehicles slipped across the pavement before they came to an abrupt stop. 

Steam rose from the hood of the humvee and for a moment everything was still. 

Price’s heart was in his ears and he looked to you when you groaned, his eyes searching for any injuries as you held your head.

“You broken?” He asked and when you shook your head he gave out a quick sigh of relief.

“I’m good.” You huffed and swung the door open.

You jumped out of the car with your gun and raced towards the getaway car with Price in tow.

The other from your team showed up just as the both of you rounded to the front, and before anyone in the getaway car could grab their weapons or make a run for it, all weapons were pointed at them.

“Bravo Six to Watcher One, target is secured.” Price relayed the information into his comms as he caught his breath.

“A bird is coming your way for pick up.” Her voice came through the comms and he felt the adrenaline slowly leave his body.

Before Price knew it was back on the small base, watching as a select crew of highly trained individuals take the war criminal to the US.

He stood off to the side of the landing pad as the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. It took too long in his opinion for it to wear off and he could feel himself itching to find something to help ease it as he waited for Laswell to debrief him and tell him he can go home. 

Home. It should make him feel better, it should put him at ease and yet his eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw at the thought of having to go back to London. He knew he needed rest, once the adrenaline wore off he would feel the effects of his last deployment and the car crash, but he didn’t want to stop.

Not when there were more war criminals and people willing to harm innocents still out there.

Price huffed and gripped the strap of his vest before he went to make his way to Laswell.

“Lieutenant.” You called out behind him a little sternly and he felt his heart skip a beat. He stopped and turned around, seeing the serious look on your face which had him looking at you confused. 

You narrowed your eyes and gave him an incredulous look.

“Sergeant?” He questioned and you raised your eyebrow.

“I’d be a horrible medic if I let you walk away with a bullet in your shoulder.” You told him and his eyebrows widened.

He looked at his blood soaked shoulder, having completely forgotten about the injury until just now. He could already start to feel the aching sensation return and yet he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t that big of a deal. “It’s alright-”

“Respectfully sir, I’ll drag you in if I have to.”

Price didn’t have the chance to cringe at the use of sir as he was too caught off guard by your threat. He felt a genuine smile pull at his lips as he looked at your face, seeing that you were serious and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

He shook his head and unsure of why he felt his chest warm again before he gestured for you to take the lead.

You nodded and soon you had him sitting on a spare bed in the same infirmary you threatened to force him to on base.

He watched you intently as you methodically gathered everything you needed, taking special note of the way you silently spoke the list of items that you needed to yourself before you instructed him to take his shirt off.

He managed to take his vest off, feeling a little relief that the heavyweight was off his shoulder but the moment he went to take off his shirt, pain erupted from the bullet wound and he grunted.

His shoulder was stiff and just barely moving had him feel as though he were about to rip off his entire arm. He’s had worse injuries, some that had forced him in a hospital bed for days, and yet this one seemed to be the most persistent.

Price tried again but he could hardly move his shoulder at all.

“Can I help?” You offered and he couldn’t look at you as he nodded without a word.

He felt a slight tinge of embarrassment as you helped him pull off his shirt with little pain to accompany it.

Once it was off, he felt a slight chill as he waited for more pain to follow as soon as you started to patch him up. He was used to the way that medics roughly handled the injuries in front of them, it was just the way things were, especially as the adrenaline was still coursing through their veins.

However, instead of being jostled around and manhandled by you, he felt your hand softly press against his wound with a piece of gauze to soak up any remaining blood. You were gentle as you cleaned it up, apologizing for the stinging from the antiseptic and for how cold he must be since he was shivering.

Shivering from your touch, but he couldn’t admit that to you.

Price couldn’t help but feel incredibly confused but also intrigued by you. At first he believed maybe you wouldn’t fare well on the battlefield but then he saw how efficient you were catching the war criminal.

You were the complete opposite now, treating his wound as if he were a child and touching him with a softness that he had left in Liverpool.

You were strange in the best way possible. You were experienced and a hell of a good shot which wasn’t something that came naturally to most, yet you didn’t boast or act prideful. You were back to that softness he had seen just hours before and he couldn't quite wrap his head around that.

You glanced at him, catching his inquisitive eyes and you quickly looked away from him as if you were startled to know that he was staring at you.

He didn’t miss the way a shy look spread across your face again which made his eyes immediately jump to your lips as he watched you work.

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You teased, seemingly having read his mind and his eyes widened.

Price’s frowned. He hadn’t realized it had been that obvious and it almost made him more embarrassed to realize that you must’ve felt the need to prove yourself to him.

He could only assume by the way that your eyes were devoid of that brightness that this wasn’t the first time someone had made you feel this way.

He couldn’t help the anger that boiled inside of him at the thought.

Anger at himself for being the same as the pricks who had most likely put you down your entire career considering you didn’t seem all that phased by it. 

How many times have you had to prove yourself? How many times did someone completely disregard you without giving you a chance?

Guilt bubbled up in his stomach and he clenched his jaw. He never wanted to be like them and yet he had done it to a good soldier who didn’t need to have the extra pressure on top of everything else.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, knowing that his face must be a few shades redder, especially when you gave him a sad smile. “It was incredibly unprofessional of me to make you think that I-”

“Lieutenant, it’s okay.” 

Price shook his head despite the sincere look on your face and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He stared into your eyes with a serious look, one that he hoped would change your mind, and found that for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

His eyes bounced around your face now that he had a chance to look at you properly, and saw every detail that made you, you.

He wasn’t sure why he found himself studying your face. Maybe it was because this would be the last time he’d ever see you and the thought of forgetting your face made him uneasy.

Though, he was sure he’d never forget you, especially when he noticed a small gash on your forehead he had completely missed.

From the car crash…brilliant first impression, he thought.

You stared at him expectantly but didn’t pull your hand away from him as his fingers burned into your skin. It felt as if you had stepped closer to him for a moment as you swallowed hard and your eyes flickered around his face while you gave him a surprised look.

The two of you stared at each other for a lot longer than what normal people did all because he just couldn’t think.

The more he stared, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest warmed as he drew a complete blank on what he was going to say to you. It took a moment for him to come to his senses, realizing that maybe it was a little strange for him to stare, before he finally cleared his throat.

“Really,” his voice barely above a whisper, soft and sincere. “I’m sorry.”

Price let his hand fall from yours, already missing the warmth of your steady pulse in his palm and sucked his lips into his mouth as he waited for you to answer.

He watched you stare at him as if he had grown three heads, as if no one had ever apologized to you so sincerely and it only made the anger inside of him bubble more. He held it in as you glanced away from him, uncertainty flashing across your eyes before you took a deep sigh.

You glanced back up at him with an appreciative look in your eyes that brought back some of the light that had him letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, sir.” Your voice was soft as you gave him a small smile.

“Price.”

A smile stretched across his face at the confused look on your face. He couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped his mouth when you gave him a look of uncertainty, as if you were trying your hardest to figure out if he was joking or not.

“You don’t have to be that formal with me.” He added and your eyebrows knitted together.

“Is this a test or something?” The corners of your mouth twitched when he shook his head. “We only just met a few hours ago, Lieutenant.”

Price shrugged, or attempted to without injuring himself further, and watched as you gave him a genuine smile.

You were right of course, you were still practically strangers and yet he couldn’t help the feeling in his gut that he had seen enough from you to believe you were somebody he could trust. Somebody who he wanted to see again, to speak to again, and hopefully never have to truly say goodbye to.

He hoped you felt the same but no matter how long he stared into your eyes, the beautiful ones that twinkled with a sort of friendliness that stole his breath away, he couldn’t tell. 

All he could do was hope that you wouldn’t be repulsed with working with him again.

“You certainly live up to the stories, Price.” You said as you went back to patching him up with a smile.

“Stories?” He wondered and you nodded. “Hopefully not all bad, I’ve not heard about them until now.”

“They’re not. Promise.”

He was sure the two of you looked like idiots the way that you both grinned at each other. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had smiled so genuinely yet he didn’t mind the ache in his cheeks at all. His attention was on you as you continued to patch him up, completely enthralled by you and your presence alone.

“Shame I haven’t heard anything about you.” He watched you raise an amused eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to say.” You scoffed and he grumbled.

After all he had seen today not only on the field but now as you treated him so gently, he had to disagree.

You had to be one of the best combat medics he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. It was a disservice to you that no one seemed to know who you were or know about your skills, save for him and Laswell.

You finished patching him up, carefully examining your hand work with a proud twinkle in your eyes that completely enraptured him.

“Then I’ll say something.” He spoke before he could even think.

You snorted and gave him a look as if you thought he was joking.

However, even with the fact that he had let that slip out, he was serious about saying something good about you if this mission ever came up in the future, and gave you a look that showed he meant it

There was nothing that would stop him from letting your expertise be known to anyone who would listen.

“Are you always this nice to your medics?” You wondered as you began packing up your equipment.

“Yes-“

Price stopped you and grabbed the few items he needed before he started to clean the gash on your head.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened and the flustered look on your face as he made quick work to patch you up. You opened your mouth to say something and attempted to step away from him, but he quickly grabbed your elbow to stop you, making you forget about any of the words you might’ve said.

His fingertips felt like they were on fire as he touched your skin and he tried his hardest to push down the good feeling that he had in his stomach. He was sure that his cheeks had turned a few shades darker and he avoided looking at you in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t notice.

“-but I think I need to make it up to you for acting like a muppet.”

When he pulled away, you touched the small bandage on your head with delicate fingers and gave him a grateful smile.

There was a sort of fondness in your eyes when you looked at him, something that was a lot warmer than anything he ever could’ve imagined coming from someone he had worked with and it left him feeling lighter.

“You don’t have to do anything.” You told him with a giggle that made his heart skip a beat. “Even if you are a muppet.”

Price grinned at your imitation of him and you had a proud look in your eyes, something that was much better than the sad look you had just earlier. He hoped you were telling the truth or else he was willing to do just about anything to make it up to you.

He slipped his shirt back on, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he did so, before you handed him a few pain meds. He sent you a thankful nod as he took them and that was when he spotted the clock on the wall in the small infirmary. 

The smile fell from his face when he realized that he had to go back home soon and that heavy feeling came back. He clenched his jaw and a soft sigh escaped his chest before he glanced at you.

He had a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t want to say goodbye to you, not yet. 

“When do you go back?” He wondered and you gave him a tired smile.

“They’ve got me on a few more assignments before I can go home.” You stated matter of factly and yet Price couldn’t help the sympathetic feeling he got in his stomach. “I wasn’t the one who was rudely interrupted during a game.”

“It wasn’t that entertaining…”

The words were stuck in his throat as he watched you pack up the rest of your items and put them back on your vest as you mentally counted the list of items you still had left. 

He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous speaking to you, why all of the sudden his entire confidence as a leader had disappeared when it came to you, but it made the prospect of saying goodbye a lot worse than it should’ve.

You both were soldiers, that’s how this job was. 

“You’re not at all tired?” He wondered and you scoffed. 

“I didn’t say that.” You gave him a soft pat on his good arm before you gestured for him to walk with you. “But when you’re one of the most needed people on the battlefield, you don’t get to rest that often.”

Price hummed and nodded, knowing a little bit about what that might feel like considering his reputation.

He followed you outside of the infirmary, trying his hardest to come up with something more to say to keep the conversation going, just so he could talk to you for a little while longer but he couldn’t think of anything.

The two of you made it back to the tarmac and he sighed heavily when he saw the helicopter that was meant for him.

“I find that going on walks helps.” You said softly and his eyebrows knitted when he looked at you.

You gave him an empathetic smile. One that showed a sort of softness that made his chest feel lighter and made him want to prolong his departure even more.

“When you work with injured soldiers you learn the signs.” You explained and he sucked in his lips when he realized that you were actually seeing him. “It’s in your eyes.”

He wasn’t sure how he could feel more compelled to be around you but knowing that you saw John Price and not ‘the Lieutenant Price’, made him feel incredibly vulnerable but in the safest way possible. He was almost relieved that you saw past his ranking and the stories that seemed to travel through the special forces all around the world. 

It almost made him feel more at peace.

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, causing him to tense up slightly and step closer to you. He stared deep into your eyes again, studying everything about them so he could hope to remember them when you were gone.

“Walks, eh?” He repeated softly and nodded, causing you to give him a light squeeze. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Doc.”

You grinned and pulled your hand away from him, fidgeting with your fingers as you shook your head with that same flustered look on your face you had earlier.

“You know, strangely no one’s called me that before.” You chuckled and he hummed as he heard the sound of the helo turning on.

“Well, then I get the honor of being the first one.” He smiled when he saw the twinkle in your eyes. “I’ll make sure it sticks.”

“How generous of you.”

Price chuckled and tried his hardest to ignore the pit in his stomach as he realized there was nothing he could do to stop him going home. He could only hope that one day he’d be able to work with you again if Laswell ever needed him to clean up another mess. 

Maybe she would assign you with him if that happened. Maybe she would listen to him if he personally requested to have you on the team with him whenever she inevitably did call him again.

“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded to you as he began to make his way to the helo.

“Take care of yourself and don’t get shot! I won’t be there to patch you up.” You jokingly called out to him and he laughed.

Price was done for the moment he laid eyes on you.

Tags: @cathnoneofyourbusiness @lillianastuff @sofasoap

A/N: AHHHHHHHH it's finally out and i'm so excited and nervous. I hope you guys like it because it has a very special place in my heart

[sapphire-writes]

Running On Sunshine (hospital AU)

Do No Harm part 3 || masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: doctor!Aemond Targaryen x doctor!Reader

summary: You haven't spoken to Aemond. Tensions rise between the two of you and come to a head at the arrival of a disruptive patient.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: NSFW mdni medical terminology, use of needles, discussion around addiction (specifically alcohol, rehab, recovery), fighting, blood, punching, explicit sex (p in v) fingering, oral (fem receiving), creampie, praise, dirty talk, spanking, language

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

note: here it is! long-awaited, thank you for being so patient as my brain jumps around 😂 hope you enjoy it!!

disclaimer: yall, I am not a doctor, I am simply a Grey's Anatomy stan. If something is off or incorrect please just suspend your disbelief! I am trying my best to make it as accurate as possible but its just for fun!!

It’s been a few days since your ultimatum with Aemond. 

No texts. 

No calls. 

You pass each other in the halls and avoid eye contact, brushing past him close enough that if you extended your little finger you’d be sure to brush against the back of his hand.

You weren’t going to chase him. 

You’d told him what you wanted. Told him you’d wanted him. And he had stayed silent. If that was the end of you and him, so be it.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t killing you inside. Watching him day in and day out walking through the halls of Citadel General in those stupid blue scrubs that he somehow wore like he was strutting down a runway not the hallway of a hospital. 

It didn’t help that observations often included surgeries he was a part of. Aemond was a model resident, often asked to assist the attendants. And he was hard to miss, always wearing his signature scrub cap with little dragons peppered all over it, mid-flight. You’d catch him glancing up at the viewing gallery, peering up over his mask every now and then. You never caught his eye, he was much too quick for that. 

“Switch with me,” you’d begged that afternoon after Baratheon had informed you of the plan to observe Dr. Cole’s surgery. There was no way Aemond wouldn't be there, Dr. Cole had chosen him as an obvious favorite. 

You’d been catching up on notes with Cory for the past ten minutes, the pair of you both trying to shove food in your mouths before your pagers inevitably went off. 

Labs. Observation. Notes. Scut work.

The never-ending revolving schedule of your internship. 

Cory reaches into her bag of salt and vinegar chips, clicking her mouse furiously, her brows pinched together in concentration. 

“I can’t,” she says through a mouthful, “Besides, you’ve already done this lab. If I don’t get these hours by the end of the week I’m about to take Jace’s place as Baratheon’s least favorite.”

You groan in frustration, letting your head rest against the keyboard of your computer. Nettles pops her head into the room, frowning at you both, “What’s wrong with her?”

Cory shrugs and you turn your head to face Nettles. 

Beep beep!

Cory groans, checking her pager, “Shit, I gotta go,” she says, crushing her chip bag and logging out of the computer before heading out of the room, “Sorry again, Y/N!”

You mumble something along the lines of don’t worry about it just as she disappears from sight. Nettles raises her eyebrows.

“McDreamy?” she asks, and you continue to pout, “Damn. Dick is so good we should change his name to McDick.”

“You suck,” you tell her, but you can’t stop your smile, “Definitely not your best work.”

“McOrgasm? I’m still thinking of one that truly encompasses the distress he’s causing you. Dr. Cum?” she makes a face, “Okay ew. Definitely not Dr. Cum.”

You groan, putting your face in your hands, “What am I going to do?”

Nettles walks towards you, slapping the back of your head. You lift your head, mouth open in shock, palming the place she slapped.

“Hey! I was recently concussed!”

“And apparently it scrambled your brains more than we thought!” she snaps, “See what you’re not going to do is spend your days moping over Dr. Sexy. I don’t care how good his dick was. You are a doctor. You are an insanely smart woman and you are in your internship.”

Nettles lowers herself to your height, taking your hands in hers. 

“He is very dreamy,” she says, her brown eyes empathetic, “But this is your time to shine. Not his. He’s not this important.”

It hurts---gods does it hurt---but she’s right. And you know it. You’ve been through situations like this before. You’ve gotten through things like this, and worse. Smiling at Nettles you squeeze her hands.

“Thank you.”

“Mhmm,” she says, smiling, “Always here for a reality check. You’re the sun, babe.”

You smile back at her, “I’m the sun.”

“Damn right,” she says, chuckling, “How’s Cece doing?”

“She was discharged this morning,” you tell her, beaming with pride, “Just finished her last round of antibiotics and her labs are clear. I’m working on her note now.”

Nettles plops down in Cory’s seat, reaching into the chip bag she left behind. Her hand comes out empty and she frowns. 

Jace opens the door, looking rather sweaty and discombobulated. He’s been running around the most, trying to get on Barartheon’s good side. 

“Hey,” he says, out of breath, “Can you guys help me in the pit?”

“No can do,” Nettles says, “We’ve got observation soon.”

You nod agreeing, but become curious noticing Jace’s panicked expression.

“Why what’s wrong?” you ask.

“Just…five minutes,” Jace says, “Please, I need someone. And I can’t find Sara and Cory--I just need someone, please.”

You turn to Nettles.

“The pit?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at you, “Really?”

“Tell Baratheon I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you tell her, “Besides, maybe it’s a good case.”

“Girl,” Nettles says, sighing and shaking her head.

“I just really need your help,” Jace says, leading you through the emergency room, weaving between nurses and patients, “It’s just that…I mean I didn’t know the other day but now…”

“Didn’t know what?” you ask as he stops outside a curtain.

“-- he’s back again and family members--,” Jace says, brown eyes wide, “We’re not supposed to work on family members.”

Your eyebrows concave together in confusion when suddenly the curtain pulls back. A man is lying in the hospital bed, a halo of platinum hair cascading onto the pillow he lays on. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, a lazy grin appearing on his face as he gives you a once-over.

“Nephew,” he sing-songs, giggling, “You brought me a present!”

Jace sighs, pulling the curtain from his grasp. Wait a minute. Nephew? Your eyes scan the giggling man as Jace snaps something at him. The silvery hair, the violet eyes. Seven hells.

How many Targaryens are there?

“Excuse me?”

“He’s kidding,” Jace says, forcing a smile and turning to his uncle, “You’re kidding.”

His uncle shakes his head, lower lip jutting out in a pout, “I’ve never told a joke in my life. She’s pretty Jacey, well done.”

Your cheeks burn at the compliment, at the way his eyes cascade down your body. You’ve never felt more exposed in simple scrubs. 

“Stop calling me that,” Jace snaps, cheeks reddening.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Jacey boy,” he croons, “Thought Baela had taken your balls when she dumped your ass--”

“Funnier every time I see you, Aegon,” Jace interrupts, closing the curtain once more. 

Aegon’s mouth drops open in surprise before he’s hidden from sight. You raise an eyebrow at Jace, folding your arms across your chest. 

“He’s harmless,” Jace assures you, “Please, please just help get him out of here as soon as possible.”

“Well, that’s sort of difficult when we don’t know what’s wrong--”

“I know what’s wrong.”

You frown, raising an eyebrow at him, “You know?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking drunk. He’s always drunk. Just give him a banana bag, let him sober up, and get him out of here,” Jace instructs.

“How do you know he’s drunk?”

“Considering the fact he hasn’t been sober since I was eight years old, it’s not hard to guess,” Jace tells you, “He’s been to more rehab programs than I can count. Trust me on this.”

“I’m still going to have to do some labs,” you tell him, not willing to go against protocol.

“That’s fine, do what you have to do just…keep him out of the way,” Jace pleads, eyes widening as though he’d just remembered something very important, “And don’t let Aemond know he’s here.”

Your gut tightens at the mention of Aemond.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. It’s better for everyone if no one knows Aegon is here,” Jace finishes, “Thank you, I owe you big time.”

“Yeah you do,” you confirm, and then Jace hurries out of sight, eager to escape the pit.

The curtain opens once more and you turn, meeting the curious gaze of Aegon Targaryen. You try to stop the scowl that threatens to overtake your face as he grins widely, a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Ow!”

“Will you hold still!”

“You’re killing me!”

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“It hurts!”

“It won’t hurt if you stay still, Aegon!”

Aegon throws his opposite arm over his eyes as you attempt to find a vein for the third time. He’s too squirmy, too anxious that as soon as the needle pierces his ivory skin he’s flinching away and howling. 

“I’ve seen children do better than you,” you grumble, and he gasps in feigned shock.

“They let you torture children?”

“Hush!” you insist, and to your relief, he’s able to stay still as you start the IV, “There you go. See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Aegon peaks over his arm, glancing down at the tubes as you assemble them properly, making sure the drip is even. He frowns as you release the tourniquet. 

“I bruise like a peach,” he mumbles.

“Sounds like you need more iron in your diet,” you tell him, walking to the other side of his bed. You need to take his blood pressure and begin wrapping the band around his arm. 

“Can I have something for the pain?” he asks.

“No, you may not.”

“Not even Tylenol?”

“No.”

“Hells,” he mumbles, “You should know, I enjoy it when women are mean to me, it turns it on.”

“Of course it does.”

“Mhmm. I eat that shit up.”

You’ve been trying not to look at his face for too long. If you look at Aegon, you’ll start thinking about Aemond. 

You’ve been trying very hard not to think about Aemond.

They don’t really look alike, despite the matching hair and eye color. Though he’s sitting down you can tell Aegon has none of Aemond’s height. He’s soft whereas Aemond is sharp. Their mouths may be the most similar thing about them, both awarded beautifully pouty lips made to be kissed. 

“What’s on your mind, doc?” Aegon says, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying, I’m very perceptive,” Aegon insists, “Come on tell me. What is it? Doctor drama? Boyfriend drama?” Your face must give something away when he asks, because his eyes light up, “Boyfriend drama.”

It’s no use, you can feel your face heating up, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Fuck off.”

Your head snaps up at him, and you remove the blood pressure sleeve. Discarding it in favor of your stethoscope you place the end against his chest.

“Breathe in.”

“D’you have a girlfriend then?” he relentlessly continues.

“No.”

“A fuck buddy?”

“Hells,” you mumble in frustration, trying to listen to his heartbeat. 

“Please tell me it isn’t my nephew,” Aegon says, making a face.

“What?” you answer, far too quickly, “No! Seven hells, Jace and I are friends! And I do not sleep with colleagues.”

“Everyone sleeps with colleagues,” Aegon argues, “How else do you meet people?”

“That working well for you?”

“Oh I don’t work,” he answers, “That’s boring.”

You choke back a laugh. The man truly is ridiculous.

“Alright then. Well, you’re all set once you’re done with your fluids we’ll check your vitals again and send you on your way,” you tell him, making a note in his chart, “I can have the nurses reach out to some detox programs if you’re interested.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, I understand a bit of your history from what Jace shared. But you should know, recovery isn’t linear, and relapse is completely normal-”

“I haven’t relapsed.”

You blink. 

“Your BAC was 1.06,” you inform him, “That’s more than a little buzzed.”

“I haven’t had a drink since Nyra birthed her last gremlin,” he insists, not elaborating on who Nyra was, “I’m just like this.”

Your eyebrows knit together. He could be lying, you know that. Addiction is one hell of a disease. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans.

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

You’re silent for a moment, just staring into his violet eyes. 

“Your blood--”

“Fuck the labs,” he groans, “They always come back like that. I haven’t taken anything. I haven’t drank anything. Believe me, I’d be much more obvious.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, a pretty little thing like you wouldn’t be so far away,” he comments, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, “I don’t know why this happens. I think my body got so used to being fucked up, it just does it on its own now.”

“You’re being serious,” you comment, and he nods.

It goes against everything you’ve learned in med school, and in residency thus far. Your pager beeps and you glance at it. It’s Nettles. You’re supposed to be joining her soon. 

When you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras. 

You chew your bottom lip. Aegon raises a brow, already looking better with the intake of fluids. 

Fuck it. 

You quickly page Nettles, and let her know you’re needed longer in the pit. Hopefully, Baratheon doesn’t kill you for this. 

We’re going with the zebras. 

“Okay so I’m going to send the sample to the lab and see what comes back,” you inform Aegon, “And if you’re being honest with me, we should have some answers for you.”

Aegon swings his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Why would I lie?”

You want to roll your eyes, but you’re sure if you do in his presence once more they’ll fall out of your skull. He gives you a cheeky grin as he notices your exasperation. 

“People lie all the time,” you tell him.

“To you?” Aegon asks, snatching your hand is his, “Never, princess.”

You hear Nettles suddenly, her voice flowing through the ER and your stomach turns. Surely, it's Dr. Baratheon coming to reprimand you for missing observation to spend time in the pit ‘trolling for surgeries.’ The curtain opens then, and to your horror, it’s Aemond who has discovered you rather than Dr. Baratheon. 

His eyes fall to your face first before he turns to Aegon. His gaze drops to your interlocked hands. Something washes over him, his expression cold and calculating. 

“Out,” he says, voice quiet as death. 

Aegon chuckles, but you can hear the nervousness he’s trying to hide. You can see it in the way he wets his lips, the way he pulls his hand from yours.

“Bro…”

“Out, now,” Aemond repeats, “Don’t make me drag you out in front of all these people.”

“Careful now,” Aegon says, standing, “you know how mummy feels about you getting your hands dirty--”

Aemond steps forward, hands fisting Aegon’s shirt and dragging him forward. Your eyes widen in shock and Nettles yelps as Aemond pushes past her, dragging Aegon with him. 

The display has gathered the attention of several nurses and patients as Aemond continues to drag him through the ambulance entrance and out the automatic doors. You and Nettles remain closely on their heels as they exit the hospital.

Aemond releases his hold, sending Aegon stumbling into the road. 

“Seven hells!” Nettles says, a shocked expression on her face. 

Aegon laughs maniacally, bending over with his hands on his knees. He shakes his head several times, like a dog before looking up.

“Go home,” Aemond says, flexing his hand.

“Where’s that?”

“Wherever you’ve been staying I suppose,” Aemond quips.

Aegon is panting, staring at his brother.

“I’d like to see Helaena.”

“That’s not happening.”

“Helaena!” he yells at the sky, “She’s my sister, I know she wants to see me.”

“You’re not shaking her down for any more fucking money,” Aemond says, his voice louder this time, making you flinch, “Go home, Aegon.”

Aegon wets his lips, running a hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours. 

“You’ll call me? With the results?” he asks, and Aemond snorts.

“Another STI screening?” Aemond snarks. 

Aegon’s tongue pokes his cheek, an angry smile on his face. 

“Gotta make sure I’m all clear before saddling up with a fit bird,” he taunts, eyes falling on you as he says it, grabbing his crotch for emphasis. 

Aemond lurches forward his hand connecting with Aegon’s cheek. Nettles and you both scream as Aemond jumps back, Aegon spitting a mix of blood and saliva on the ground. He laughs again, smiling with bloody teeth. 

“Get him cleaned up and get him out of here,” Aemond instructs Nettles, before heading back inside and leaving the three of you standing there.

Aegon’s lip is split, along with a cut on his cheekbone. He spits again, wiping his face and nodding at you.

“No boyfriend eh?” he says, grinning. Your face flushes. 

“I wasn’t lying.”

His grin widens.

“One of us is,” he says, referencing your earlier conversation, “Guess we’ll find out who.”

Nettles approaches him, and he winces. She turns to you.

“You should go see if he’s okay,” she says, nodding to the doors. 

You run back inside leaving Nettles and Aegon, your eyes searching for Aemond. Hurrying to the nurses' station, they inform you which direction he took off in. A nervous sweat breaks out on the back of your neck as you hurry down the hallway. You spot him then, taller than everyone else, watching as he ducks into an on-call room. 

Quickening your pace you follow him inside. It’s quiet as you close the door, besides the sound of a noise machine echoing white noise in the dimly lit space. There are two beds in this room; truly the on-call rooms are in such sorry states. Small twin mattresses with paper-thin sheets and pillows that may as well be pieces of foam. 

Aemond sits on the bed to the left, his head resting in his hands. You close the blinds on the door, flipping the sign that says “Both Beds Occupied” along with flicking the lock. You don’t think he’ll want to be disturbed.

“Aemond,” you say softly. He doesn’t move. The knuckles of his right hand are bloody. 

Taking a step closer, you watch his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breaths he’s taking. Anxiety churns in your stomach, and you take a step back, placing your hand on the handle of the door.

“I’ll just leave you--”

“Don’t,” Aemond speaks quietly for the first time, raising his head. His gaze softens, his eyes somewhat glassy. “Please don’t go.”

Your heart starts to race, but you nod, stepping back toward him. Sitting beside him the bed creaks; you cross your ankles and place your hands on the edge of the bed. Aemond rests his chin on his hands, arms propped on his knees. The pair of you sit in silence for several moments. It begins to rain outside, fat droplets of water beating against the window. 

“You should get that looked at,” you finally say, nodding at his hand. 

Aemond merely hums in response, flexing his fingers. 

“Seriously, you’re a surgeon,” you continue, “What are you thinking, throwing punches like that?”

Aemond glances at his hand, curling and uncurling his fingers, “He brings out the worst in me.”

“Your brother.”

“Mhmm,” he answers, shaking his hand. It’s not as bad as it looks, thankfully. He could have done some serious damage.

“I’m sorry. Jace told me…well I’m just sorry.”

“It’s alright. Someone has to treat him. I’m sorry if he was inappropriate to you.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “We don’t get to choose how patients behave.”

“Aegon can be a lot. Take it from someone who knows him rather well.”

“Noted.”

You sit in silence some more. The sky outside has begun to turn dark as clouds roll in, the sound of thunder audible in the distance. A storm is looming.

“I’ve missed you,” he says so softly you almost don’t catch it.

Your hands dig into the side of the bed, your heart pounding against your ribs making your chest feel painfully tight.

“Don’t-”

“Y/N..”

“Please Aemond,” you cut him off, eyes watery, “Please. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it,” he insists, turning his head toward you, “It’s just…Y/N that day I didn’t give you an answer. And you deserve one. I like you. I like you so much. You’re an incredibly intelligent person, funny, adorable, and…” he trails off, shaking his head slightly as he chuckles to himself. 

“And what?”

“And that scares the shit out of me. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I wasn’t expecting you. When I moved here I just planned on keeping my head down and then….then there was you,” he looked away, his eyes lit up in wonder, “I saw you in that bar, and it was like the sun came out.” 

Your lips part, your stomach flutters pleasantly at his words, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. He glances at you shyly, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

“And then I saw you here and you’re an intern, at the beginning of your residency I just….I mess things up. I don’t want to mess things up for you. Or with you.”

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his, “Okay.”

“But…I miss you. I miss talking to you, kissing you,” Aemond continues, the top of his cheeks turning pink, matching his ears, “You asked me if I’m in or out. I didn’t answer, and I should have. I’m all in.”

“Aemond…”

“If you’ll have me,” he adds, “If you…if you want to give this a try.”

You smile at him softly.

“It’s all I wanted from the start.”

Aemond smiles, leaning toward you and connecting his lips to yours. You sigh against his mouth, as his hand snakes around the back of your neck, keeping you from going anywhere. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips, and you part them eagerly accepting the warm muscle into your mouth. 

Your hands bury themselves in his scrubs as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. His opposite hand reaches for your waist, sliding down to rest on the meat of your thigh. He rubs soothing circles there for a moment, before gripping you hard and pulling you on top of him. 

You straddle his waist as he scoots backward, pressing his back flat against the wall. He breaks the kiss for only a moment, tugging your blue scrub top over your head, before desperately chasing your lips once more. Shivering in the cool air, your nipples harden in your bra. You almost wish you’d worn something a little sexier, the plain black bra making you feel underdressed. 

Aemond eyes your tits like a madman as his skilled hands eagerly unclasp your bra, pulling it from your torso. 

“Should we be doing this--” you gasp, grinding against the hardness between his thighs. 

“Yes, yes we should,” he says, kissing you once more before pausing, his eyebrows knitting together, “Unless you don’t want..”

“No! I mean--fuck, yes, yes we should and I want to,” you whimper as his teeth graze against your neck, “But I mean, here…” Aemond continues his attention to your neck, his perfect mouth nipping and sucking the sensitive skin.

“No one’s coming,” he murmurs, “You locked the door, yes?”

You nod, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, groaning as you clench your fists, tugging at his hair.

He catches your lips once more and you arch your back, pressing yourself against him trying to get as close as humanly possible. Moaning against his mouth he chuckles softly, the sound reverberating against you. 

“Shh,” he croons, brushing some hair from your face, “You have to be quiet.” He nips your lower lip as he says it, smoothing his tongue along where he bit, “Something you have trouble with, I recall.”

Your cheeks warm at the memory of your first night together, the puddle he’d turned you into with such little effort. Lashes fluttering, you look up at him as he admires you.

“You’ll have to remind me,” you tease, earning a growl from him as he flips you onto your back beginning to pull your scrub pants from your body.

Eager to assist, you kick wildly trying to get the soft material off. Aemond catches your right calf in his large hand, trying to avoid being kicked.

“Careful,” he chuckles, pressing a hot kiss to your calf, helping you out of your scrubs, shoes, and underwear. 

“Sorry,” you manage to say through your giggles as he tosses the ball of clothes toward the opposite bed, “We’re a bit uneven now, wouldn’t you agree?”

Grinning, Aemond pulls his scrub top from his body as thunder crashes outside. The sky has darkened considerably and lightning flashes, illuminating the room. Aemond’s hands travel up your calves, hooking against your knees as he cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“Better?”

Your eyes trace down his exposed front following the planes of his chest, the chiseled outline of his abdominal muscles. You swallow, feeling yourself clench as your gaze rests on the outline of his hard bulge.

Nodding, you take your lower lip between your teeth, dragging your gaze back to his face. Aemond’s breathing is heavy as he sits on his haunches, eyes raking down your naked body.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he breathes appreciatively, “Gods…” He lets one hand move up your body, fingers dancing against the skin of your waist, up the side of your ribs to your breast. He explores higher and higher until with a desperate whine you reach up pulling him toward you.

You could kiss him forever.

You want to kiss him forever. 

The hand that rests on your leg curls inward, stroking the soft flesh of your inner thigh before inching higher. Your breathing has started to turn to pants as Aemond lets one of his long fingers part through your silky folds, spreading your arousal. 

“Seven hells,” he groans, swirling his finger against your clit, “All this for me?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, biting your lip and trembling against him already.

Aemond only smirks, that familiar look of confidence in his eye, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you tell him, as the tip of his finger sinks inside of you, “Fuck-- just for you.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing further inside of you, stretching you out on his forefinger. A second finger soon joins and he scissors the digits against your fluttering walls.

You’re trying to be quiet---really you are trying--- but it feels too good. He’s too precise with his movements, too insistent on bullying that sensitive rough patch that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. “Aemond…I can’t--”

“Shhh baby, I know, it feels too good to be quiet, huh?” he says, voice full of mock sympathy, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum really quick, let me take care of you, yeah?”

You nod furiously, a choked moan escaping you as Aemond presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Moving away from you, he keeps up his relentless pace with his fingers as he slides onto his stomach on the bed. Your eyes widen as Aemond glances up at you from between your legs, a cheeky smile on his handsome face. 

“Aem----oh fuck!” your concern is short-lived as Aemond presses his mouth against you.

His tongue traces lazy circles over your clit, groaning, “Hells, I missed this sweet little pussy,” he mumbles, taking the sensitive button between his lips and suctioning around it. 

Throwing your head back against the pillows, your back arches, and your mouth opens in a silent scream. The rain continues to pour outside, the drumming against the window matching that of your racing heart. 

“Oh yeah, I know that’s so good, huh?” Aemond mumbles between licks of your clit, his free hand snaking upwards to grope at your breasts, “Fuck you look so pretty…all whiny and desperate.”

He curls his fingers as he says it, massaging the tender spot inside of you causing your pussy to spasm against his fingers. His tongue traces nonsensical patterns around your clit, his lips sucking and releasing causing lewd wet noises to echo through the room.

“Next time,” he murmurs a quiet promise, “Next time, when I’ve got lots of time…we’ll see how long I can keep you like this.” His fingers pinch your right nipple, tweaking it harshly.

Your belly tenses, muscles constricting against his fingers as he returns his sweet torture on your clit, and you finish with a muffled sob as you turn your head, pressing your mouth against your shoulder. Aemond murmurs soft praises, talking you through your orgasm as your legs shake around him. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss through your teeth as he slowly pulls his fingers from your fluttering pussy, bringing them to his mouth. 

You watch, wide-eyed as he sucks the lengthy digits, moaning at the taste of you.

“Turn around baby,” he says, sitting up, “Put your face in the pillow.”

Shakily, you turn on your hands and knees, before letting yourself fall to your forearms. Aemond slides his hand down your back, admiring the curve of your spine, spreading your cheeks wide. 

“Goddamn,” he murmurs, slapping your cheeks, causing you to yelp, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re an ass man?” you tease, looking back over your shoulder.

“I’m a ‘you’ man,” he argues, grabbing his length and sliding it against your folds, “Now be a good girl, and let me take care of you.” The fat head of his cock pokes at your entrance.

“Please,” you breathe as he starts to slide in. Aemond pauses, groaning slightly.

“Fuck baby, you can’t say that all sweet right now,” he growls, “We don’t have time.”

“Please, put it in,” you whimper, cheek pressed against the pillow, drool forming a wet patch under your cheek.

Aemond’s hand cracks down on your ass once more, “Be a good girl you little brat.”

You whimper, your begging ceasing as he slides fully inside your tight, wet heat. The stretch of his fingers was nothing compared to his thick cock. Your walls tense around him, pulsating around his thick length as he bottoms out. Rocking backward, he slides nearly all the way out before thrusting back in. 

Electricity bursts through your veins, pleasure crackling through your limbs like the lightning outside of the window. The force of his thrusts sends your face deep into the pillow, muffling the sharp cries of pleasure you emit. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to, it feels too fucking good, the head of his cock rubbing ceaselessly against your g-spot as he ruts against you; he’s grunting softly, muttering praises all the while, his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as your knees slide down, legs shaking so bad you’re unable to keep them upright, “It’s okay baby, just relax I got you.”

Your legs bend against the mattress, thighs splayed, hip flexors burning with the deep stretch it awards you. Aemond never relents, just continues to slap his hips against the softness of your ass, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out, in and out.

“Aemond,” you moan, “Fuck it feels--”

“Yeah?” he groans, “How’s it feel baby?”

“S-s’good, Aem, fuck, it’s so good,” you whimper, hands fisting the sheets, the bed shaking with every harsh thrust. 

The bed grinds against your sensitive nipples and clit sending sparks of pleasure burning through you.

“Gonna make this pussy feel so good,” he says, leaning some of his weight on top of you, his face next to yours, “Gonna take you home after our shifts, you’d like that, yeah?” His arms hold him up, propped on either side of your head. 

“Yes, fuck please,” you agree, turning your face, and feeling him press a kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Gonna have you ride my face,” he promises, dragging his nose between your shoulder blades, “Wanna make that pussy feel so good, till you can’t fucking take it anymore.”

“Fuck Aemond,” you shiver with delight at his filthy words, at the promise of a repeat of the first night you’d been together. A promise of more. 

“Missed you too much,” he murmurs against your shoulder, sending warmth pooling in your belly, “Need you close to me.”

“I missed you,” you whimper, “Fuck, need you so bad.”

“I’m all yours,” he says, nearly whimpering himself, “Fuck baby, you’re so tight, feel so good clenching around my cock.”

“Yeah?” you ask, lifting your head slightly, and glancing back through hooded eyes.

Aemond maneuvers himself, leaning to capture your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss as he continues to pound into you. 

“Fuck….c’mon baby, one more time,” Aemond encourages as heat winds a tight coil of pleasure in your belly, “Can’t have my baby only cumming once, now can I? Come on, that’s a good girl.”

The pitch of your cries increases and you slam your face against the pillow to muffle your strangled cry as your whole body tense, pussy constricting like a vice around his cock as you come. It’s intense, it burns with a brutal passion that paints stars behind your eyelids. 

Aemond’s thrusts become sloppier and with a few more slaps of his hips, you feel his cock pulsate inside of you and the warmth release of his cum filling you up. You turn your cheek from the pillow, your body tingling with the remnants of your orgasm as you suck in a breath. Gently, Aemond pulls out of you, peppering kisses down the length of your spine as he does so. 

You hum happily as he slides out, placing his hands under your thighs and maneuvering you out of the frog-like position you were previously in. Your hip flexors ache, but it’s a good pain--well worth being fucked into the mattress. Aemond turns you on your back, brushing some hair from your sweaty forehead. 

“Hey there,” he says softly. The room is quiet, the rain has stopped. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever walk right again,” you tell him with a content sigh, “but that aside, I’d say I’m more than alright.”

Aemond chuckles, thumb smoothing your cheekbone, making you lean into his gentle touch. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs, standing up, walking to the adjacent bathroom, and flicking on the light. 

You watch him walk away, admiring his ass. He’s got a rather nice one. You hear him turn the water on and a moment later he returns with a washcloth. Not trusting yourself to stand, you simply spread your legs and let him clean up the remains of your combined releases. Your hips jerk as he carefully brushes against your swollen clit causing him to release a breathy laugh.

Beep beep!

The noise snaps you both out of your post-coital bliss bubble and you hurry to find your clothes. Aemond reaches for his pager, desperate to get his scrubs on. 

Beep beep!

It’s your pager this time. Shit, Baratheon must be pissed. 

Both of you scramble, switching scrub tops as Aemond accidentally tries to put on yours, causing you to erupt into a fit of laughter that is only stopped when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a heated kiss. 

“Stop, stop,” you beg, pushing against his hard chest, “Shit we have to go.”

“One more--”

“You’re insatiable--”

“Oh I’ll show you insatiable,” he says, lips tugging upwards in a smirk, “You just wait until tonight.”

Your cheeks burn as you yank on your bottoms, fixing your hair. Sex hair is not an option, not when Baratheon will be up in arms about your disappearance. Glancing at your pager, you read what it says before clipping it to your waist. 

“Okay, I gotta go,” you tell him, shoving your feet into your sneakers.

“Meet me in the lobby? When you’re done?” he asks, unable to hide his smile as you walk to the door on trembling legs.

“Okay,” you tell him, leaning forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “And we could get dinner?” 

“Anything you want,” he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, “Anything” another kiss, “At” and another one, “all.”

You hum happily, placing your hand over his, your entire body warming with his affection.

“I’ll see you then,” you tell him, unwillingly pulling away and unlocking the door.

You leave first, Aemond leaving a few moments later. Watching as he fixes the collar of his scrubs, you find yourself beaming. Aemond turns, catching your eye before turning down the hall, a small smile playing on his lips.

Gods, this is going to be a long shift.

note: hope you liked it!! LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!

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[gffa]

Guess who fell right smack back into BATFAMILY feelings hell?  Who has two thumbs and really thought they were truly out of the DC game, that it had been like ten years since they’d read a single comic, that they were finally safe from crying about stupid bats and birds?  Yeah, that’s right, this nerd.  And now I’m waking up and choosing violence on the rest of you by throwing every I’m Having Dick Grayson Feelings Fic at you that I can find, because this fandom is fantastic for it.   This list will skew towards my fave, but I hope there will be some good Jason, Tim, Damian, Cass, and Steph fic for anyone who wanders by for them!  You just have to scroll for a second first. I probably tend towards a slighty softer view than canon always provides (I will grab hold of Nightwing #100 with both hands and a death grip, though, and you can’t take Dick & Bruce hugs away from me now) but that’s what fic is for!  All the emotional resolution the source material cannot give us itself and I am GOING to inhale all of it like it’s oxygen and I’m on a run.  And then shove it at everyone I can while crying on them, too. BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I’M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.2k      “Redo it,” Bruce orders. “Aw, come on!” Dick dares to pout — a thing that he uses often, and would work on anyone but Bruce and Alfred. Sometimes. Bruce gives him a look. “I’m not going to do it for you.” “I’m going to misdo it until you do,” Dick threatens. ✦ Sweater Weather by MashpotatoeQueen, dick & bruce, 2.2k      Dick Grayson is eight, Bruce Wayne is trying, and there’s a walk home in the rain. ✦ Hay Is for Horses by lurkinglurkerwholurks, dick & clark & cast, 2.7k      The sleepover had been Dick’s idea. In which Clark is a good but very overwhelmed uncle who is Trying His Best. ✦ Eye of the Storm by Janie__loops, dick & bruce & cast, de-aged!dick, 2.5k      Dick Grayson becomes once again a traumatized volatile murderous eight year old, and the only thing more surprising is how adept Bruce is at handling him. ✦ A Blur of Spinning Wheels by chinuplilpup, dick & bruce & alfred, 10.1k      Dick is on the chandelier. An eight year old. A genius gymnast, to be sure, but a child, small for his age and under Bruce’s legal care. On the chandelier. Twenty five feet above the ground, surrounded by glass and kept up by a single fifty-year-old chain bolted to the ceiling. Bruce is going to have to check his blood pressure after Dick is safe on the ground. ✦ The Flame and the Night: A Bedtime Story by WingFeathers, dick & clark, 1.8k      Dick’s thrilled to stay with the Kents, but they go to bed far too early for him to sleep. It turns out to be a job for Superman, who shows Dick the Kansas night sky and tells him a story from Krypton––a story about two gods, called Nightwing and Flamebird. ✦ (T)his Child by shanahane, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k      ”I’m here for the elephant,” Bruce says bluntly. ”Elephant?” Haly says. ”We haven’t had elephants in over two decades, what…?” ”The toy. That Dick left on his bed.” OR What wouldn’t Bruce do for… this child? ✦ 5 Times Dick Grayson was in the Newspaper Because of Bruce Wayne by Engineerd, dick & bruce & alfred & clark & cast, 4.7k      Batman and Robin are Gotham’s urban legends, and Bruce wants to keep it that way. “I know that,” Clark said. “But when Robin eventually goes officially public, I want to be the one that does the interview.” ✦ we don’t allow monsters in these walls. by thychesters, dick & bruce, 1.8k     New dad Bruce is still trying to figure things out with Dick. He’s not his dad, not his brother, he’s just … he’s B, the guy Dick runs around with at night fighting crime. He’s worried, and he’s scared, and he’s too protective. Tonight the protective side just won out. ✦ shades of monochrome by renecdote, dick & bruce & clark, 6.1k      He can’t even think, let alone think how to act. His brain is like a broken record, stuck on a loop of blood and ringing gunshots and Bruce is going to die. “It’s going to be okay,“ Alfred says. But it isn’t. How can it be? Dick takes a deep breath and screams for Clark as loud as he can. (The one where Bruce gets shot and Dick cries a lot.) BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Ghosts by fanfictiongreenirises, dick & bruce & batfam, 2.5k      “Nights like this, when everything was balanced on the edge of a knife, when Bruce could feel Gotham clawing at them with her claws, he could feel their gazes scraping his back.” Bruce waits for backup with an unconscious Nightwing tucked in his cape. ✦ When I Touch the Water by audreycritter, dick & bruce, 2.7k      Bruce is trying to deal with an old injury alone, and alone is exactly the opposite of how Dick Grayson is willing to let him handle it. But Bruce can’t really complain because it’s nice to see his son again and not fight for once. ✦ Making Time by CaptainOzone, dick & bruce & cast, 6.5k      Bruce does not remember anything leading up to this moment. He does not remember teaming up with Superman recently, nor does he remember being anywhere but Gotham proper. He does remember having Robin at his side. Robin, it turns out, is not there any longer. God does he hate magic. ✦ to love is not to leave by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1k      Dick called Alfred for a medical consult last night, so when he hears someone at his door, he’s not exactly surprised. What does surprise him is that the man who came to check in on him isn’t Alfred: it’s Bruce. ✦ Olive by Ptelea, dick & bruce, 1.5k      In which Dick and Bruce catch up in the kitchen sometime after episode 11, “Not It,” Dick peppers his speech with condiment-related puns, and Bruce is sort of amazed by his life sometimes. ✦ too lost and hurting to carry my load by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 1.8k      Dick is sick and feverish, and those two things are forcing him to face some previously-stifled fears and insecurities. He really just needs someone to take care of him. ✦ No Other Songbird Like You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight, dick & bruce & damian, 8.5k      The difference between grappling off a building and free-falling off a building is actually a very small difference. Really, it’s just the difference between firing your gun before you jump, like Bruce always insisted on according to safety protocols, and firing after you jump, when it’s more fun. The fun way, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, is totally fine and has absolutely no consequences. ✦ mid-May’s eldest child by one_step_closer_to_death, dick & bruce, 1.2k      Dick’s sick and Bruce takes care of him. BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ Handle with Care by takadainmate, dick & bruce & damian, 3.4k      Dick is sick. Alfred isn’t around. Bruce and Damian do their best. Damian had known something was wrong. ✦ Off The Record by amathela, dick/donna, NSFW, 1.2k      Dick and Donna work off the aftereffects of a mission. ✦ Rejoice in Youth by FlashThroughLight, dick & bruce & tim & damian & jason & alfred, 6.1k      Dick has been regressed to the age of four, now Bruce and the rest of the family has to look after him until he returns to his rightful age. If Bruce thought teenage Dick Grayson was unruly, nothing could prepare for the storm that is Dickie Grayson. AKA Dick cons his family into giving him hugs. ✦ The Real in Funereal by lowflyingfruit, dick & damian & alfred & tim & jason & barbara & selina & cass & cast, 9.3k wip      Batman is dead. So is Bruce Wayne. And the Bat-family is struggling to cope, both publicly and privately. But crime in Gotham waits for no Bat, and like it or not, new grievances and old, the family must pick themselves up. Gotham needs its defenders, before their grief tears them apart. (Battle for the Cowl AU) ✦ Visions of Sugarplums by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & damian, 3.7k      See, it happens like this. Everything’s normal for them all—or, well. As normal as a family full of vigilantes can get. But things are running smoothly. He keeps his head up and his ears open, though, because he may be able to move forward, but he isn’t stupid enough to think that he’s not going to hit a bump in the road. He always hits a bump in the road. He just hadn’t expected this. ✦ Safety First by SuperWhoLockianFangirl, bruce & dick/babs & dick/roy & dick/wally, 2.6k      Bruce Wayne can handle lunatics like the Joker without even flinching, but the hurtles of raising a teenage boy prove more daunting. When it comes time to give Dick the “Talk”, he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. And unfortunately for him, he finds himself repeating the experience multiple times over the years. BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY’RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ Catch by Ptelea, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & cass & steph, 13.7k     Five times Dick caught one of the younger Bats, and one time he wasn’t the one to do so ✦ Stubborn by audreycritter, dick & jason & tim & damian & cast, 20.3k     Dick is usually the one taking care of everyone else and he’s bad at asking for help. So bad, in fact, that he never even actually asks– but Jason shows up anyway. And then Dick returns the favor. And then they both do for Tim. And it’s just going to keep going from there. It’s probably Alfred’s fault. When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother,” you don’t argue. You just do it. ✦ Without Question by lowflyingfruit, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, 6.2k     There is something very wrong with Dick at the moment. He’s doing everything Bruce says without a hint of protest. Tim’s going to get to the bottom of this. ✦ Ranking Robins by Beauty_In_Her_Darkness, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce, 5k     Buzzfeed has been cranking out quiz after quiz about Gotham’s Bat-themed superheroes. When Jason shows them to his family, him and his brothers decide that not only should their adoring fans get to rank the Robins: Bruce should too. ✦ Carry by Ptelea, dick & jason, 4.9k     Whoever said, “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,” didn’t have to haul you around. ✦ a pointless resistance by emavee, bruce & dick & jason & alfred, time loop, 26.7k     It starts with a news report running in the background of a greasy little diner, but it ends with Dick dead. Except, it doesn’t stop there. It keeps on ending, over and over. Bruce’s son keeps dying, and nothing he does seems to make any sort of difference. ✦ while you see it your way by irnan, bruce & dick/babs & tim & cass & damian & alfred, 4.5k     Wherein Damian acts his age for once, and - to the astonishment of absolutely no one - it’s all Bruce’s fault. ✦ Manor-Dad lets me drive the Batmobile by loosingletters, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & damian & duke & cast, 21.2k wip     Bruce had two options when Dick found the Cave. 1) Tell him the truth. 2) Go along with Dick’s excited “You’re dating Batman!” until he figured out the truth. Several children later Bruce wished he’d gone with option 1) or he wouldn’t have to deal with all his kids believing he and Batman were separate people. ✦ Bomb Sing Se by Cephalogod, dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & damian, 2.2k     The thing was…it wasn’t actually the worst idea. (The bombs in the gauntlets part; Jason had vocally disapproved of every aesthetic decision Dick had ever made since they were teenagers, Dick wasn’t going to start listening to him about that now.) ✦ Above Any Price by centreoftheselights, dick & jason & tim & damian, 1.6k     Dick gets the news that Jason has been taken hostage. This time, he’s going to save his brother. ✦ Upside Down by withthekeyisking, dick & jason, de-aged!dick, 2.1k     Something that was not on Jason agenda for the night, but somehow now is: take care of the de-aged version of his big brother, who is—in his tiny mind—apparently running away from juvie. Because, sure. Why the fuck not. ✦ straight up, what did you hope to learn about here by irnan, bruce & dick & damian & barbara & jason (background dick/babs), 3.8k     (or: Three Conversations Dick Grayson Has About Jason Todd, That One Time A Couple Years Ago When Jay Was Dead, And How Talia Al Ghul Is Why Dick Can’t Have Nice Things.) ✦ Now Comes Good Sailing by geminus_17, dick & jason, 2.3k     Dick and Jason escape to Walden Pond and have a healing talk about the meaning of life and death, and insult Henry David Thoreau. ✦ on the other side by MermaidMarie, dick & jason & tim, 3.6k     In which Tim and Jason are staying up all night in the hallway, after Dick gets his memories back. ✦ Control Alt Delete by audreycritter, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & stephanie & riddler, 1.9k     Sometimes the only way to solve an impossible riddle is to give up. ✦ Extension by smilebackwards, tim/kon & dick & jason & bruce, 5.9k     Tim’s going to need to learn to be less conspicuous about this hopeless crush he’s developed; he lives with an entire family of detectives. Or: Tim has a crush on Conner and everyone has something to say about it. BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I’M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT’S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ The 70 Days After Groundhog Day by Ptelea, dick & jason & batfam, time loop, 43.9k      There’s a time loop that only Jason remembers. It acts as a catalyst for changes within the family. Some arguments, some misunderstandings, some bonding, some healing, and quite a lot of conversations that mostly take place over food. Dick POV, focused on Dick and Jason but with the other Bats around and very present. ✦ Fair is Fowl by Lysical, dick & jason & batfam, 4.3k      Dick Grayson is visiting the Manor. Jason Todd has the chickenpox. They might not be brothers, but maybe they can get along for one evening. ✦ Ensemble Performance by lowflyingfruit, jason & damian & batfam, 4.8k      Damian has a deep, dark secret he needs kept from Grayson, his father, and most of all Drake, at all costs: he has, quite unwillingly, been volunteered for a part in his school’s annual musical. As a grouchy dinosaur. This is now Jason’s problem. Or his blackmail opportunity. Whichever. ✦ Home Intrusion by daedalusdavinci, dick & jason & cast, 7.2k      There are moments when the… everything of Dick’s life catches up with him, and exhaustion sinks deep into his skin. However, when he goes dark on everyone else, Jason doesn’t quite get the memo. Rules never seem to apply to little brothers. After two weeks of little more than clipped texts, Jason shoves his way into Dick’s life and gets him up and moving again. BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I’M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ 3:16 by partingxshot, dick & damian & alfred & stephanie & cast, 70.7k      The knife pushes thin along Dick’s carotid artery, cupping the indent between neck and jawline—forcing him to angle his chin. The metal is warm, pulled with execution speed from under Damian’s pillow. “Okay,” Dick says quietly, tracking the intricacies of his own heartbeat—counting the space between breaths. “Guess I did need a shave.” (With faltering steps, Dick and Damian become Batman and Robin.) ✦ The R Stands for – by Cirth, dick & damian & bruce & talia, 5.8k      Damian pretends to focus on lacing up his boots as his father tugs Drake to his side, plants a gruff, casual kiss in his hair. Drake’s lips curl into a pleased smile, and Damian yanks the strings so hard his palms burn. ✦ The Rule Stands by Engineerd, dick & damian & bruce & tim & alfred, time travel, 11k      Damian meets a 10-year-old Dick Grayson, and they become best friends. ✦ this tiny little space by Alienu, dick & damian, 2.1k      The landing on his fire escape is nearly silent. Nearly. ✦ waiting for the tides to meet by partingxshot, dick & damian, 2k      Grayson behaves like this sometimes: like Damian needs to be protected. It twists his stomach in sharp and unfamiliar ways. “You leave, then!“ Damian spits. "I’ll—I’ll track Clayface on my own.” Another shudder takes him. The pain floods him all over again. It doesn’t matter: he won’t cry out. The rain pelts the dumpster behind him. It pools in cracks in the concrete. ✦ the city without stars in its skies by Alienu, dick & damian & batfam, 18.5k      (Or, in a world where he was never sent to live with his father, Damian al Ghul is contracted to assassinate one Dick Grayson.) ✦ Catch Me (All Records Indicate) by Engineerd, dick & damian & batfam, 9.5k      Damian had studied each of his father’s prior proteges briefly before he’d left the League of Assassins. Somehow, Grayson in person is nothing like Grayson on paper. OR “Are you sure you can catch me?” Grayson asked. Damian could hear his heart beating. He wasn’t sure. “Yes,” he answered anyways. ✦ Even in the Midst of Grief by Ellegrine, dick & damian, 4.3k      Richard Grayson has never hurt Damian. It’s unforgivable that anyone should believe otherwise. BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, MAKE ME CRY ABOUT BATS AND BIRDS, THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR: ✦ Second Generation by lowflyingfruit, dick & bruce & tim & barbara & jason & alfred & cass & cast, aftermath of rape + depression, 108.9k      Nine months after the ‘Blockbuster Incident’, a call from Lockhaven Penitentiary regarding Catalina Flores brings all Dick Grayson’s plans for his future in Bludhaven crashing down. Thrust suddenly into parenthood and hiding what happened to make him a parent in the first place, Dick must decide, adjust, and accept - and no matter what, the family has to pull together to help him. ✦ Savior Complex by Arwriter, dick & bruce & barbara & tim & jason & damian & alfred & cast, 11.6k      “All I did was disappoint you.” He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t catch his breath. “I just wanted to do good. I just wanted to be better and all I did was make everyone angry.” Or: When Bruce comes back from the dead, Dick goes nonverbal. Nobody seems to have the time to notice. ✦ Essential Actions by CKBookish, dick & clark & bruce & wally & cast, 8.8k      Clark shifted his weight making the floorboards creak and groan under his feet. “Dick I hate to see you–” He paused searching for the right word. Dick snorted. “Wallow?” Clark sighed. “That’s not what I was going to say.” “I know. I can go to the barn and hang out there if I’m bothering you and Lois.” Dick pushed himself up. Of course he should have thought of that. Lois didn’t want some random teen laying around her home on Christmas Eve. Dick’s first Christmas without Bruce after he’s fired. ✦ The Night It All Came Crashing Down by chibi_nightowl, dick & jason, rape aftermath/read the tags, 4k      After a difficult night on patrol, memories Dick would much rather forget come to the surface. Thankfully, Jason’s there to catch him before he falls. ✦ The Winter of Our Discontent by BloodFromTheThorn, dick & bruce & jason & tim & alfred, 10.2k      Why did criminals always think that the best time to make a disturbance was in the middle of winter? Between the snow, Clayface and Scarecrow, Dick’s having a really bad day. It really doesn’t help that Batman’s late. ✦ The Universe Doesn’t Get to Take This by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & bruce & damian, 1.9k      “And they’re so important that you don’t come home to check on your recently un-amnesiac brother? And here, I thought I was your favorite.” BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT’LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ In This or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch, dick & bruce & alfred, 33.4k      Dick Grayson (DCU) accidentally lands himself in Battinson’s Gotham. ✦ I’m a Good Pretender by shipNslash, dick & bruce & alfred, 40.4k      Dick’s mother raised her son to be a star. Dick’s father raised his son to be an athlete. Bruce’s new ward is charming (manipulative), dedicated (obsessive), and way, way too smart for either of their own good. ✦ take these broken wings and learn to fly by fishingclocks, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 45.5k wip      or, How Dick Grayson Burrowed His Way Inextricably into the Heart of Bruce Wayne ✦ i turned around, there was nothing there by lwbones123, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.1k      the batman got me thinking about battinson with a robin. this is that. ✦ Robin’s Light by iammadeofmemories, dick & bruce, ~1k      ‘Lies still’. Murder weapon still missing, Why riddles? Why leave a code? And why— “B! Whatcha working on?” or, in which I throw nine-year-old Dick Grayson at Battinson.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the river (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

the end of a trilogy series

previous chapter / next chapter

masterlist

6.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, self-destructive behavior, finnick's bias now so you can see how they both view the other as the more broken one, mental health issues, allusions to suicide, allusions to trafficking and trauma surrounding it, the opposite of a slowburn it's giving their soulmates, mentions of death/torture/violence/brainwashing, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Seeing your face again could have sent Finnick into another frenzy, he'd been scared he'd forget it even though he thought about it every second of every day. But he couldn't do that, he needed to listen, hear your voice again. You had that smile plastered on your face that everyone could easily believe in, and had for years, except him. There was a mournful, numb look that would settle in the back of your eyes whenever you put on a performance, one that usually leads to dissociation. On top of that, you looked tired, the way you looked when after you'd won your Games and hadn't been able to escape the nightmares. 

Your voice was like music in his ears when you greeted Ceasar back, a tune that could soothe his soul if he wasn't so worried about you. It pained him to notice that in the midst of everything, of holding you captive, of the rebellion, they'd still managed to play dress up with you. Goosebumps covering your skin, the outfit barely covered any of you, you'd always run cold, and the Capitol seemed to know this. “So you're saying you knew nothing about the rebel plan?"

You shook your head emphatically, “No, I told you all how sure I was that I was never coming out of that arena. It was just as much of a shock to me." His clever, clever girl, trying so hard to play it safe.

“At the end you were screaming about forgetting something, what was that?" Caesar asked.

The tracker. The stupid tracker. "Finnick…" You trailed off, looking into the camera for a second like you were trying to reach out to him, “We had a special way of communicating with each other that comes with being together that long, I needed to find him, I still don't remember why.”

"So did he know about the rebel plan?”

Your foot was tapping slightly and Finnick prayed, for your sake, that no one else knew how anxious that indicated you were. “If he did, he didn't tell me." You looked at the camera again, addressing the citizens of the Capitol, "And I want everyone to know that if he did know anything, he would only do it if he thought it meant we could be together. He would never want this, the rebellion, the terror, both of us love all of you and Panem so much. His intentions would've been of love, not harm.” 

Finnick was so proud that your years of charisma for the Capitol was pulling through now. He felt like he was going to cry, the way you were defending him in the off chance that everything went wayward and he also ended up in Capitol clutches somehow. Maybe, if Snow really thought you knew nothing, he'd consider you more than just bait, maybe there'd be quite a few of these interviews left to boost morale for Capitol citizens. To see one of their favorite victors spewing out propaganda, it would also keep you alive longer, so out of all things that's what Finnick would place his hopes on. 

“Peeta called for a ceasefire, would you agree with this, that things should just be called off?” You glanced off camera, anxiously scratching at your arms.

"Yes, a ceasefire needs to be called.” Your smile reeked of discomfort and fear, and he was even more grateful that it was something only he knew how to sense from you. “The destruction being caused, the death, will get so much worse if this continues. No one wants that, this can all be sorted out. President Snow is merciful, but only if a ceasefire is called for.” It was sickening, the lies you were being forced to tout. Snow was anything but merciful, he'd probably throw the victors into the arena again, or just line them all up to be shot, or make death causing ‘accidents’ occur as soon as possible. Then you were crying and Finnick longed to hold you, to tell you it would be okay, to give any words of comfort he could. "I'm sorry, so much has happened recently.”

"Well us in the Capitol are glad to still have you with us." Finnick hated that they had you, that Caesar could still force you to perform for all of Panem and act like you're fine.

"I'm glad to be here with all of you too!” You mutter through tears and your signature, fake smile.

"Before we go, is there anything you want to say if the rebels are watching out there, if Finnick, your husband is watching out there?”

“He's not a rebel." You say quickly, with as much urgency as you can. Your eyes shut for a second and you're muttering to yourself, “He's my husband, he's not a rebel, not a rebel."

"Right, he's not a rebel.” Caesar says with what's supposed to be a comforting smile.

Your eyes open and you nod, wiping away stray tears, “And I'm just reminding everyone how badly we need a ceasefire, to stop all of this. To stop the suffering and all that could come.” Your smiling again, so forced it looks like it hurts and you're rubbing your necks until it's red, "Ceasefire, ceasefire, ceasefire is important.” It's like you're chasing a thought you're being forced to remember.

“Yes, a ceasefire is important." Caesar nods, "Well a big thank you to the Capitol Princess for her message here today.” Your smile drops as you nod at the camera before it cuts and Finnick has been once again abandoned with his thoughts. 

What are they doing to you to convince you to say things you would never believe? How sweet you are for insisting upon his innocence anyway you can, he misses you more than home, the ocean, the feeling of fresh air in his lungs, the sun shining down on his face, he would happily live without it all if you could just be here, with him. You'd looked so exhausted and he misses being able to hold you, keep you warm so you could rest and feel safe when you did. He longs to see your genuine smile, the way your eyes would soften and the way your nose crinkled when you laughed.

A fantasy he can drive himself into before the anger can fall back into place, how he needs to hijack something so he can rescue you. He'd rage to President Coin herself if he could force her to do it, but they barely even let him out of the hospital wing. He's sobbing again, calloused hands trying to clear his face of the tears. Maybe they think he hasn't seen it, so they aren't worried about his reaction, they probably assume he's sleeping or focused on tying his knots, but it's just the eye of the hurricane. He can only stain the plain, scratchy sheets with his tears for so long before the hysteria will return. But for now he can mourn. He can hate himself, wish the rope was long enough to let him leave, and wish you could've both just chosen to be together in death. It would've been better then torture he's going through now. How there's not a second he can't focus on you, what he misses, what he dreads could be happening to you, the dreams of your future.

Dreams where you could be at home, surrounded by friends and family having the traditional District 4 wedding, sea shanty's and all. Where there was no fear that Snow would manipulate the games to force your children to be spectacles so you'd had children, as many as you wanted. Who you'd take to the beach, teach them about the animals, teach them to swim, and be the family he knows deep down you'd both have wished for. There'd been a glimpse where that was possible and then there'd been the impending doom that it wasn't. That instead it would be the wish he had when they told him you were dead.

Death. You. The idea that death could creep up with its slender hands and drag you away into the cavernous pit, that would leave him forever alone. He'd gratefully dig the claws of death into himself to bring you back or lay with you in the lowest parts of the cliffs forever. Death. You. Him. Freedom. Chains broken, no more threats, no more needs, just the end with you. 

Instead he needed to face the brazen winds to return you to his arms. You'd looked so cold and he missed being able to warm you, for you to cool him down. He had to get you back and the frenzy was back. Finnick was back on his feet, tearing himself from the bed, not giving a care to the things around him, if they fell to the floor it was something else out of his way. This commotion did alert the medics close by and Finnick was instantly trying to run by them.

“We have to save her, I need to save her!” He urged, but they were used to his antics. They'd long ago retrieved the manpower required to overpower him when he got like this. That didn't mean he still wouldn't fight, he still had the strength it took to shove most of them off, react violently when they got their hands on him, and struggle when eventually a larger group had their arms on him, ready to sedate once again. Maybe that was a good thing though, it allowed him to fully focus all of his thoughts on you and everything you two had. 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He was early, but he didn't care, well he kind of did when he paced by the cobblestones not far from your house wondering when he should knock. Wicker picnic basket being moved between each of his hands, careful not to hit the bouquet of flowers he was holding, as he anxiously counted down. Finnick knew he said noon, but did that mean five minutes before would be the right time to show up? 10 minutes? Exactly at noon? He wasn't used to feeling this anxious, he'd adopted a suave personality for Panem to gobble up that had become nearly effortless, but now he wanted desperately for you to ignore that and just be perfect.

The gift he had for you weighed heavy in the pocket of his shorts. He wanted to give it to you, he hoped you'd like it because he really wanted to see that smile that he'd daydreamed about again. He checked his watch, 13 minutes, and the worry was still there. Would you be scared off if you looked outside to see him waiting so early or would you find it sweet? What if you were inside anxiously waiting for him because you doubted it was real, because you wanted it to be genuine, and he reasoned from what he did know it was probably the correct assumption. You were too full of self-doubt, of an unspoken want to be seen, to be realized, and he wanted nothing more than to really comprehend each intricate detail that made you, you. 

‘Fuck it,’ He told himself when he made his way up the cracked cement, the grass and weeds peeking through. All the way up the two steps on your crickety porch, light blue paint peeling away to reveal the rotting chunks of wood. Slowly he tapped his knuckles on the wooden door, hoping the knocks didn't seem aggressive, but were enough to gain attention. Since when had he worried about the way his knocks were perceived? Only to gain a chance to perceive you.

The door creaked open and there you were, glowing in another beautiful sundress. “Hi!” Your smile was enough to wash away most of his anxieties even if your own voice seemed riddled with them, he despised the fact you felt anything less than sure of yourself, then sure of his interest in you. 

“Good morning, angel." Morning? Afternoon? Did he care which one was more accurate, did you? Finnick pulled on his dazzling smile, feeling like he was swept up by you.

He pulled the bouquet up, "Um, I got these for you.” You stared at them for what felt like an eternity and made him blush, scared he'd misread something,"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just-”

"They’re for me?” Features so soft it made his heart want to melt already, even the smile was so sweet and fond.

“Yeah, they're for you. These ones just reminded me of you." He wasn't about to say he'd spent hours at Mags this morning trying to pick the perfect flowers from her garden that he thought you would not only adore, but that gave off your very essence.

“They're perfect." You said in a soft amazement,"Really perfect.” Your fingers brush through them before you're ever so gently taking them from him,"Thank you.” 

Flowers were definitely a win, something that could rely on for you to adore. “Of course, sweet girl." You smiled as you smelled the flowers and he concluded that you didn't get many gifts, even one's as easy as that. He'd plant garden after garden to keep you smiling like that. You shut the door and it clicked behind you as you stepped towards him, porch creaking.

“Really, thank you, Finnick." To his surprise you hugged him and how cold you were was almost as shocking, you had such a warm, inviting aura that it was hard to imagine the icincess of your skin. Yet he melted into it, he'd always been so warm that it was nice to have something to contradict that, like when he went for his early morning swim. You smelled the peaches and the ocean, it was delightful and an aroma he'd always want to remember. He longed for your touch to return the moment you pulled away and suddenly he was just hot again. He must have stood there staring and longing for a while because your melodic voice stopped this, “So, are we planning on standing here all day?”

“No, no sorry!" He shook his head, breaking into a nervous chuckle as he tilted his head to the side. You laughed as you began walking down the rickety steps and he followed. “How was dinner?" Maybe he was jealous, he shouldn't be, there was really no good reason to be, but he was.

You looked at Finnick for a moment, confused, like it hadn't quite processed in your brain. “Oh, yes! It went well!"

“What'd his sisters have for you?" The fond look you gave him for remembering a small moment in a conversation made his heart swell and he swore he'd remember everything about you. 

“We like to try and find the prettiest things in the sand, seashells, sea glass, things like that and we all have little collections from each other. They're sweet."

“You're sweet."

“How would you know that, you don't know me." You said, fingers playing the flowers and trying to keep watch on the ground. The cobblestone was uneven, broken, crumbling apart and very just a tripping hazard.

“As you keep reminding me, it doesn't change the fact that you're sweet. ” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. His free hand slides into his pocket, “Saw something else that reminded me of you." He pulls out a necklace, something a vendor had made of shining seashell fragments and the occasional pearl, but something about it just seemed so much like you.

“Finnick." Your steps halted and he did the same,"I don't need you to buy me things.” 

"I know, I want to buy you things.” The necklace dangled from his fingers, glistening in the rays of sun.

"But I don't have anything for you, so it's not-”

"You don't have to get me anything, I'm just spending time with you and I want to do it. Not because I feel obligated too, but because I like you.” Finnick reassured, this didn't have to be transactional, he just wanted to show you he paid attention, he cared. 

You closed your eyes and sighed before nodding, “Okay."

“Unless you don't like it, in which case you should tell me now for future reference.” 

“No, no, that's not what I mean, I mean I do, I just-"

“Need to get better at accepting gifts?" He finished, raising an eyebrow.

You scoffed, “I'm good at accepting gifts!" There was a beat of silence where the two of you both stared at each other, him with his brow still arched quizzically, before the two of you burst into laughter. “Sorry, that's not true."

“I can tell!" When the laughter had somewhat subsided, he took another step towards you, lifting the necklace slightly, “Here, let me help you." He was thankful for another chance to let his fingers ‘accidentally’ brush against the skin of your neck and be cooled by it.

His nimble fingers secured the clasp, "This seems to keep happening to us.” You said, trying not to bristle when his warm hands did in fact make slight contact with yours.

"Maybe I'm just a mastermind.” His voice was so close to your ear as he gave himself an extra second of touch before forcing himself to step back.

"Or maybe you're full of yourself." You turned back around to face him before the two of you continued on the walk.

Finnick shrugged, “Two things can be true."

“Maybe not those two." He felt like a lost puppy dog who'd trail behind you, at your beck and call, every single time you spoke. It was terrifying, bone chilling, to think he'd become infatuated from afar and now it was like he'd been bewitched. As if your aura had its own siren song attached to allure his own in and he'd gladly crash his ship on the rocky shores for you. Yet the fear was combated with the fact that you, the core of you, was closer to the shine of the lighthouse, guiding him to safety. A thin line between destruction and refuge.

Banter has easily continued until he'd finally led you to the beach locked behind the gates of Victors Village, its view was truly breathtaking. He laid out the blanket on the warm sand, picnic basket on top, and you'd already been rid of your sandals. You stood, arms out as the breeze blew through your arms, inhaling the salty air and Finnick would've sworn you were some type of ethereal blessing gifted to the Earth from the ocean itself. Slowly he lifted the lid on the wicker basket, “Here." He said, holding up a peach.

You opened your eyes to look over and he could see the instant surprise on them as you sat down, “Finnick!" You didn't take it from him, just put your hands around it to draw it closer as you smelled it like you weren't sure it was real. “Oh my god!" You exclaimed when you caught a glimpse of the bag of peaches within the basket. 

“Thought it might convince you to not barter the necklace." He chuckled as if he hadn't been certain he'd buy the whole array of peaches to see you smile and hear your laugh, to see the spark in your eyes. 

You paused to touch the necklace, suddenly serious, “I wouldn't do that." Your eyes were so gorgeous, so addictive, so kind. The type of eyes he wanted to gaze into until everything else had faded away. Every piece of art, every sunset, every sunrise, every star’s beauty lessened in comparison. “Finnick Odair, you can't be real." That shining smile had returned and he couldn't help but follow in your footsteps to give one back. “Seriously, you have to tell me what's wrong with you before I become too attached."

Finally you took the peach from his hand to bite into it, “Afraid I can't tell you yet, angel, scared you'd run away on me.” His tone was light enough to be a joke, but deep down he knew he'd never be able to tell you about the things that he felt the most self-loathing for, how self-destructive he could be would be something he'd try to keep you away from.

"Well you've already got me; hook, line, and sinker.” When you smiled and spoke, your nose would scrunch up in what he imagined was the most adorable thing possible. You stopped taking bites and quietly sat on the bed, observing him.

"No need to stare, I'm staying right here.” 

"Oh my god, I could kiss you.” He wasn't even sure if you'd processed the words as you stared at him longer before your brain finally seemed to register what you'd said. The look of shock had barely begun to pass your face when he decided he'd just kiss you instead. Perhaps it was all too fast, a day for him to be tasting the peach on your lips, for his fingers to be on your cold face besides the slight warmth on your cheeks. Whirlwind romances were either tragedy's or a fairytale, so time would have to tell, but maybe it should've been a sign. The ending could be uncertain as it liked, but he was sure your souls were yoked in the first ocean tides to bless the world.

His nostrils filled with the scent of peaches and the salt air you had meshed with how you tasted like the peaches, once again, and vanilla. So calming, like he was being softly rocked in the waters, nothing less than perfect. When he finally pulled away from you all he wanted to do was be enveloped by the taste once again. You looked so flustered and taken aback, it was so precious to him. “I beat you to it, this time." Cocky smirk even if he was slightly breathless.

You nodded at him slowly with your eyes wide, like all thoughts had been taken from your head. Finnick would've said something else if it weren't for the refreshing chill of your hands grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. He'd never get sick of peaches when they reminded him so much of you, if he was ever to be away he'd spend his time learning endlessly about them just to feel near. Although it couldn't compare with the way your lips molded to his so easily. Then there were your hands in his hair, something he usually couldn't stand, but when it was your gentle hands he couldn't find it anything but endearing. Eventually you'd pulled away as well, chest heaving, yet it was like you couldn't say a thing. Faces and bodies mere inches from each other as you stared at each other, listening to each other breathe.

Suddenly you were quickly removing yourself from him, running forward in the sand. “Where are you going?" Finnick called after you, somewhat terrified he'd scared you off. But you turned back to him smiling like you hadn't a care in the world.

“Swimming!" You shed yourself of the sundress to be just left in the swimsuit you wore underneath, “Are you coming?" Now it was Finnick's to scramble up, chasing you towards the water.

You must have spent hours swimming, like there was no other world except the now. He'd swim under the water, scaring you when he'd pull at your ankle and you'd fight back by trying to dunk him under the moment he bobbed to the top. This was usually unsuccessful as he'd simply drag you down with him, except when he wanted you to feel like you had succeeded. He'd randomly lift you from the waters and you'd screech for him to put you down and once or twice he'd used it as an excuse to kiss you again. After hours of similar actions the sound of the waves hitting the shore was the only thing that could be heard as you both waded to stay afloat. 

Finnick stared out at the horizon, “I want to take you sailing when I get back."

“When you get back from what?" You asked, looking at him. Suddenly he was flooded with guilt, here he was dragging you along when he couldn't even be fully yours or honest about it. But he wanted to be with you so bad and for now that was all he had to cling onto.

It didn't mean he could look at you when he tried to explain it, so he looked down into the waters, “I'm supposed to leave for the Capitol tomorrow, just Victor related things.” He mumbled, shrugging off the mention.

"Oh, okay.” You didn't sound actually upset, "When will you be back?”

"A week at the most.” He peeked up at you through his eyelashes surprised to see you didn't look upset either, at most a little dejected that you wouldn't see him for so long.

"Well, we better have a killer party then to end all of this off, make sure you don't forget me.” You teased, raising your eyebrows.

"I could never forget about you… but you're not upset?"

You shot him a quizzical look, “Why would I be upset, we all have responsibilities, even if they come with different territory.” You shrugged and nearly fell backwards when he pressed his lips to yours again, steadying your back when you began to fall backwards. You had to be an angel who'd been sent to keep him sane and grace him, but a darker side of him urged him to realize he didn't deserve someone as understanding as you.

“You're so perfect." His arms held you and he looked at you with nothing less than amazement.

“I'm definitely not."

‘You’re perfect for me, we're perfect together,’ Finnick thought as he looked at you, water droplets running down your skin, breathing hard from all the excursions, eyes sparked with their usual twinkle and so many hidden thoughts he wanted to dive into. He accepted the conclusion that the only reason he would be feeling all this so fast would be because you were destined to be, all the stars had aligned for this moment, and the oceans had moved mountains to ensure this lifetime was no different. If you were Eurydice he had been your Orpheus, the Dante to your Beatrice, you would have been the Penelope to his Odysseus, regardless of any fate he knew there was never a life where you'd not been irrevocably bound together. 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were going to be rescued, saved from the Capitol's grasps, and what had brought elation at first was quickly ruined when he learned that he couldn't help rescue you. He wasn't quite yet considered mentally stable enough for it, even if slowly he'd been able to mask it all better. Instead he had to stay in District 13 and do nothing but beg the universe to return you to him. Hadn't there been enough tragedy in your short lives? Hadn't there been enough tragedy in every other ending, in every other life? They should've let him brave death to bring you back, it would've settled him more then the torture of not knowing. Especially since he'd caught every airing you'd had from the Capitol which made him grateful that Katniss had wagered for your immunity. Snow had you begging for ceasefire, showing off outfits to parade, as if there wasn't a textile shortage, and it broke him when you seemed to be getting less sure of questions regarding him, regarding you. Then had been when Peeta announced the planned attack on District 13 and seeing you scream when he was violently attacked for the warning. A scream that would have forced Finnick to be sedated if it weren't for the more impending doom of the bombs. 

Katniss was filming a distraction propo about Peeta, how he'd saved her, loved her from the beginning. It was intimate, but apparently not enough for Plutarch who was calling Finnick over. Or maybe he's thought of something when Katniss mentions Snow's own admission of the Capitol's fragility.

“The Capitol is fragile, Snow is fragile, if we can manage to make a major blow to that, it could take their focus off of the prisoners. Force them to focus on damage control instead." Plutarch explains.

“And you want me to say something that could do that?” Finnick looks down at his rope, you'd never been able to master the butterfly knot, and he can imagine himself going over it again to try and teach you.

“If you have anything worth sharing." Of course everyone knows he does, among the elite, the powerful, the other victors it's just an open secret. “It could help us save her."

"But you don't have to open that up, there's no guarantee it'll do anything.” Haymitch argues, he's been forced into sobriety and has maintained his aggression. 

“I have something, more than one." Finnick finally says once he's completed his knot and Plutarch can't hide how pleased he is with this outcome. Finnick swears he can hear the blood draining from his face and the nausea rising in his stomach as each second passes, but he persists to stand in front of the cameras.

"You don't have to do this.” Haymitch reiterates.

"Yes I do, if it'll help her.” There's no other option, if the only thing that stopped you from being safely brought to District 13 was the lack of a good distraction, he'd find a way to get a longer rope. He undid the knot before balling it tightly in his hand, “I'm ready." Finnick says to the camera crew and he thinks of you. He turns off any physical sign of emotions he may have because he knows if he doesn't it would lead to another damaging spiral.

The cameras click on and he's given the all clear to begin, “President Snow used to… sell me… my body, that is. I wasn't the only one.” Far from it, and Finnick wanted revenge for all of them, for him, for you, for Cashmere, for everyone Snow had forced into his scheme. "If a Victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” What had happened to Johanna, what he'd been terrified would happen to you when you'd first been together. “I wasn't the only one." He repeats and this time it really is for you, for how much he had to watch it break you. The nightmares, how long it took for you to accept any form of physical contact, how even years after it still affected your own intimacy with each other. They stole it all, your girlhood, most of your spark, whatever they could they ravaged from you like vultures on a corpse. Wasn't the prize of winning supposed to be life? “But I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless because the people I loved were so defenseless." Finnick would never have mentioned this to you, but he'd begged Snow to give him more rather than give you any. The President had said you were too popular for none, but had given you less than what you could've had in exchange for even more of Finnick's time, his so-called uses. “To make themselves feel better my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets.”

That's why he was such a threat to Snow, he knew too much, he needed to be silenced, but he hadn't and now he could tell all of Panem each one. “And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others.” And prominent name after name spewed off of his tongue. It felt like he was dropping chains off of his body to reveal them to the nation. Each one more heinous than the next, “And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison." More names, victims of Snow's climb to power, the elite he trampled so he could trample the weak. Suddenly he's on fire, Finnick can't stop thinking about all the pain it caused you, about how it ruined his own childhood and life, how Johanna lost everyone she loved, how Cashmere worked so hard to protect her brother only for them both to be dead and he's so very detailed. Ensuring that it can't be swept under the rug and it's so harrowing that no one cuts the camera even when he's stopped speaking. There's too much shock, too much intensity, "Cut.” Finnick eventually intervenes.

Finally the stupor is over and people rush to air the footage, Plutarch is making endless comments that Finnick can't comprehend when he's so lost in his own head. Auto-pilot took control for most of the day, he tied knots until his fingers bled. You would've scolded him and bandaged them up, insisting it's why you didn't care for them even if you loved pouting for him to help you just so he could be so close by. Then he's got his arms wrapped around his knees, the day has been too slow, what if you were dead and he'd have no idea until they arrived and he would be at peak hope.

“Did you love her right away, Finnick?" Katniss' voice finally pulls him away from the endless myriad of thoughts.

“Not for the years when I knew of her and then I don't know what changed. She was just so herself in every way and I knew I wanted to just speak with her at least, but once I had a taste of it, yes. Like I'd been knocked over by a wave with it. For a while she didn't understand, but I didn't either, I just knew that there was no else for me." He feels like he's tearing up again when Haymitch rushes into the room.

“They're back. We’re wanted in the hospital. That's all I know." But Finnick feels like he can't move, he realizes he's scared of what you'll be like now. The Capitol had taken the you with her free-spirit and love of being in the moment and made her hate that she was able to breathe oxygen, which he'd so diligently worked to prove you were worthy of. Now they'd had you again, a version that was already hurt, untrusting, and self-destructive, and he couldn't imagine what they could have done to you now. Katniss is softly grabbing his hand to guide him upwards and he feels robotic. She guides him through the winding, gray hallways to the hospital wing. It's not until he can hear your screams that his brain clicks back into action. He has a responsibility to you, one of care, of love, of support in your weakest moments.

He's screaming your name as he runs from Katniss, searching for you desperately. Then he spots you on a hospital bed, pushing off the doctors trying to take care of you. Finnick needs to just be there with his soft words, let you know they're trying to help, so you'll stop. But that's not what happens when you hear his voice or see him. “Angel!" Your panicked screams become more shrill when you see him and in his confusion he steps closer, “It's just me." His voice is more broken then he wanted it to sound, more dejected.

“Get him away from me!" You're frenzied, scrambling to get out of the hospital bed or as far away in it as you can. The doctors are trying to reassure you as you scratch, and kick, and hit, and scream, begging for them to keep you safe from him. He feels the doctors trying to lead him away, hears Johanna laughing harshly in the background noise, but he's frozen. Your head is banging on the metal back of the bed which rattles. “Please, please.” You're sobbing and they're staying to sedate you, "He wants me dead, you don't get it, he's gonna kill me.” 

And Finnick is once again determined to get hands on a much longer rope. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so, so much for reading I am so sorry this took me so long! I hope you enjoyed it and as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated. my ask box is always open and currently so are requests which I'm working through! love you all and thank you again 💋

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[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 60)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (52) / Alexia Putellas x Character (20) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (10)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Join our WOSO Discord chat! Link in bio :)

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YFN POV

“Was that Alexia?” Lucy asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” YFN murmured, just as shocked.

“Calling you?”

She met Lucy’s green eyes – the ones that made the butterflies in her tummy do somersaults. “Don’t be jealous, Luce.” She teased, knowing full well that she wasn’t.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Is she okay?” She asked as she bent in front of the bed and patted YFN’s thigh. “Up you get, little one.”

YFN shuffled to the edge of the bed and pressed herself against Lucy’s strong back, wrapping her arm around her front and her good leg around her waist while the other stayed straight in her brace. Lucy stood and walked them to the bathroom. They had gotten used to getting around the house in all different ways, Lucy insisting on helping her everywhere.

YFN put her nose to the back of Lucy’s hair and breathed in her smell. She always smelled extra sweet after she’d just woken.

“She wants to talk… and also said Barca wants an update call with you two…” she murmured as she planted a soft, lingering kiss to the back of her neck in appreciation.

Lucy hummed happily. “Thank you for that.”

She placed her down gently on the sink in the bathroom and pulled the high stool to rest her leg on. At this point, they were a well-oiled operation.

“She’s coming over?”

“Yeah, I thought it’ll be good for her. I told her I’m interviewing you today and suggested that we can talk after it, but she said she wants to come and watch and be interviewed as well.”

“It does make sense doing hers soon as we won’t know when she’s headed back…” Lucy agreed as she removed her sling, and her shirt. The cool air of the bathroom hardened YFN’s nipples immediately and Lucy gave a smirk as she ducked down to kiss them. “Hello, friends.”

“You’re a child.”

“I hope not, otherwise we’ve got a real problem on our hands.”

YFN scoffed as Lucy put waterproof coverings over her collarbone bandage, and her arm cast. “You’re the cougar here.”

“It’s okay, mummy’s here.”

“Oh god, Luce.”

Lucy chuckled at her own joke as she usually did and finished taping the top of the soft plastic around her arm cast. She put a hand on the sink either side of her and leant it. “Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy hearing me say that.”

YFN bit her lip instead of responding and Lucy leant in, her lips brushing over her bruising, her dimples, her lips. YFN gave a soft, agreeing sigh as she leant into her, but Lucy had already retreated teasingly with a smirk. She gave her a soft peck on the forehead before moving her attention down to wiggle the sleeping shorts and underwear from YFN. It was embarrassing for her; having to be looked after, though Lucy was so kind, so patient, and never made fun of her for it.

She was now naked sitting on the sink and trying to keep her arm still as if the sling were still on, all the while watching Lucy and blushing. The footballer was getting a large black bin bag that they’d been using to cover her knee brace while she showered which she was also ashamed to admit she was embarrassed at.

Lucy looked up at her, perhaps because of her silence, and saw her red cheeks. “Oh, little one. No need to be embarrassed, okay? It’s just me.”

She put the bag down and came close again, peppering little kisses onto her cheek. “I can’t help it. I wish I could…”

“Here…” Lucy stepped back and YFN watched as she stripped herself naked, putting their clothes into the laundry basket. She put her arms out and gave a little wiggle that made YFN laugh. “Now we’re even.”

“I think it’s less about the nakedness and more about the bin bag. But I do appreciate the view…”

Lucy winked as she came close again. “Little one, you could be in a crowd of people all dressed up in their little suits and dresses, and even wearing nothing but a bin bag, you’d still be the most beautiful.” She leant down and kissed her gently, pausing only to murmur against her lips. “And you’d be the only thing I’d see.”

They kissed slowly, loving; their tongues meeting briefly before a cold shiver from YFN had Lucy pulling away and sliding the bin bag over her leg. “Come on, we need to get you warm.”

“I still can’t handle this.”

“Calm down Bree, you’re acting like a fan,” Emily teased.

“But we are fans,” Bridget insisted as they looked out the large glass doors of the living room to where Lucy and Alexia were sitting together outside on a video call to Barcelona management. As if she knew they were talking about her, Lucy looked over and lifted her sunglasses up to flash her a wink. YFN returned a knowing smile from her position at the dining table; her work spread out in front of her.

“You’ve met Lucy before-” YFN started.

“-briefly!” Bridget interjected.

“And they’re both lovely.”

“And apparently Alexia is single too…” Emily muttered as if day-dreaming.

“Right here, Em.” Bridget groaned.

“Alright you two, less gawking and more prepping.”

Bridget and Emily had arrived shortly before Alexia and almost had a heart attack. It had apparently been bad enough for them to prepare themselves for filming an interview with Lucy, let alone la Reina herself.

YFN let them finish setting up their camera and the backdrop against the wall of the living room for the interview photos. YFN went through a few more questions she had to ask Alexia, as her interview had been a last-minute addition. When she arrived, she’d agreed to do it in English and so YFN made a note to use clear speech and simple wording. She was going to ask if she wanted Ridley there for translations, but she had chosen not to mention her just yet. She was always just a phone call away, and they could always edit it anyways.

Alexia came back inside from the video call first and YFN watched as Emily nervously directed her through how to stand and sit for her photos. A grey figure appeared suddenly next to her and she jumped, wincing at her collarbone as Chiquito rubbed his cheek against her jaw for attention.

“Hey little man,” she greeted with a kiss on the cheek. “Missing mum?”

That had been a surprise to YFN, when Alexia had arrived with Chiquito. She knew how much he meant to Ridley.

His attention turned to watch Alexia posing politely for photographs while YFN started to work again… until her phone rang. Reading a line, she picked it up without checking to see who it was.

“Hello, YFN speaking.”

“Hey YFN, it’s Leah…”

“Oh! Hey mate, how are you?”

“Yeah good, good.”

“How’s the training coming along?”

“Yeah, really good. Not fully back training just yet, I will be soon.”

“But you’re running again?!”

“It feels great to be fair. Really good being around the girls again too. I’m sick of not being able to play.” She sounded a little frustrated which was completely understandable. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Here I am complaining about me while you’re stuck as home all bandaged up.”

YFN chuckled as Lucy now approached her and wrapped her arms around her from behind. “It’s okay, Leah. It means more time with Lucy which is never enough. She’s been really amazing the way she’s looked after me. I feel like a newborn.”

“Remember that I can help out too…”

“I will and I appreciate the offer. Now, what can I do for you? Are you just checking up or…?”

“I… look I’ll be honest, I want to talk to you about Jordan. We’re meeting up tomorrow night and you’re good to talk to about these things. Are you busy today?”

Lucy nuzzled into her hair while YFN looked around. “Uh… yeah kind of. I’m doing interviews for Lucy and Alexia today so we’re just at Lucy’s place-”

“-our place,” Lucy interjected too quiet for Leah to hear.

“Our place,” she corrected. “With two girls from Lumos to do some filming. Are you not training today?”

“No, not today. Physio today. The girls are training hard for the game tomorrow.”

“Ah… well I can let you know when I’m free after if you want? Lucy is taking Alexia to a boxing class later on.”

“I mean, I could just come over now if that’s okay? I’ll bring you all some lunch if you want.”

She felt Lucy nodding eagerly against the back of her head and she chuckled. “That would be amazing, thanks! A bit of this has been last minute, so we haven’t actually organised lunch yet.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

They hung up and Lucy’s lips found her cheek. “I fell in love with a real problem-solver, didn’t I?”

Lucy took her photos, grinning in some, almost smouldering in others and YFN had to work hard to pay attention to what she was doing.

“So just talk normally, like we’re having a usual conversation. Any time you want to pause, we can. Any time you need to find an answer first, we’ll edit those parts out. And if you need a translation, I can organise that too.”

“Ridley?” Alexia asked.

YFN nodded hesitantly. “Is that okay?”

She nodded in agreement as something crossed behind her eyes. YFN put a hand on her arm to bring her back. “We’ll talk after the interviews, okay?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay.”

“I’m done,” Lucy said, joining them at the table. “Who’s going first?”

“Alexia first and then you, but I’m more than happy for you to get involved from off camera in each other’s interviews. It’ll make it feel a bit more normal and relaxed.”

“Oh, I can do that,” she grinned.

Bridget and Emily finished packing their camera away and joined them; YFN using the opportunity to discuss with them all the plan and what she expected. All five of them spoke a little more until it was time to begin the interview and they moved to the couch.

“Up you come, little one.” Lucy murmured as she picked her up and carried her to the couch. She blushed at a few looks she received but she wasn’t embarrassed. Lucy settled her down into a comfortable position on the couch, making sure her water was close by, and her notes, as Alexia settled down facing her with one leg folded up. She looked comfortable, though a little nervous which YFN was confident would disappear after a few minutes.

And it did. Alexia relaxed into the interview and YFN with it, as she was just as new to the concept as the footballer. They started off with football, mentioning YFN’s own current disabilities and Alexia able to show that comforting side of her. Lucy hopped in with a few cheeky comments of course, though stayed silent as the conversation moved a little bit more serious as they spoke about her family. Her English was easily understandable, even when she was struggling a little emotionally talking about her dad. As if he knew, Chiquito jumped up onto her lap and settled there as if he were Alexia’s pet. She paused to see if she should put him down, but YFN just smiled and segued the conversation back into the fun. Into the side of the footballer that people didn’t usually hear about like her hobbies, holiday destinations, personal quirks etc.

Leah arrived towards the end of the interview and could do nothing to avoid the camera as she came in with apologies. She pulled the sunglasses up to hold back her hair and leant over the couch to greet Alexia and YFN with a kiss on the cheek.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll move.” She apologised as she put the few bags of food that she was carrying, off camera.

YFN loved it, though. It felt relaxed, and real. She knew it’d be something she’d keep in the interview. People rarely saw players like Alexia and Leah interact.

The interview took about thirty minutes in total, and then they stopped for a lunch break with the food Leah had brought them.

“Did you get this from that café around the corner?” Lucy asked as she sucked some sauce from her thumb.

“Yeah it had some good reviews, so I thought I’d try it. You’ve been there?”

“One of my favourites.” She said as if not wanting to waste time talking when she could be eating.

“Are you all sorted for tomorrow?” Leah asked YFN.

“Oh, yes. I organised a lot of it from the hospital, and so everybody’s prepped for the games on Sunday… tomorrow.”

“Where are you two going to be?” Leah asked Bridget and Emily who were watching the conversation like a tennis match, almost too nervous to speak.

“We’re doing the Gunners, Hammers game at Meadow Park,” Emily said with a smile.

“They’re Gooners so I try to keep them close to your club,” YFN explained.

A piece of salad fell out of her sandwich and Lucy was quick to help.

“Let me cut it up for you, little one.”

She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as she took her plate and cut her sandwich up into smaller pieces, so it was easier to eat with one hand. She didn’t miss the longing looks that Alexia and Leah flashed their way.

“Are you going to the Lioness games next week?” YFN asked Leah, hoping the subject wouldn’t be tender.

She nodded. “I was hoping you could come with me, if you’re comfortable with it?”

“I’d be happy to go if the doctor clears me to start putting a little weight on my leg next week…”

“To Scotland?” Lucy asked, worried.

“Maybe… I know it’s important for you…”

“…and we’ll get better seats if we have you with us. And better access.”

“Not good reasoning,” Lucy said protectively while YFN chuckled.

“I think it’s great reasoning, Luce. Plus, I love seeing you play for England. You’re a maniac.”

“She’s more…careful at Barcelona,” Alexia agreed.

“She’s very good in the important games,” YFN said, enjoying teasing her as she took a cut up piece of her sandwich and ate it.

“Yes yes, very scary,” Alexia said and her accent made it that much funnier.

“Okay, is it attack Lucy day?” Lucy grumbled as she took another bite.

As the girls were tidying up after lunch, Lucy was helping YFN change her clothes and settle back onto the couch ready for their interview. She wanted to look like it was filmed on a different day.

“Little one?” She said quietly.

“That’s my name.”

“Are you okay if I go to the Arsenal game tomorrow afternoon? I wanted to ask Alexia at boxing if she wants to go…”

YFN knew full well that Lucy wasn’t an Arsenal supporter, she was a Man City supporter having had played for them, and so she knew that her objective was to keep Alexia entertained. “You’re a good person, Luce.”

Lucy smiled. They’d done that thing where they’d communicated without communicating.

“Thanks.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And maybe I’ll ask Leah…”

“Not Leah.”

Lucy’s head tilted in question. “No?”

“No…”

Lucy could see she had something else in mind and didn’t question it. “Okay then. Maybe Ridley will want to come over and spend time with you?”

“Sure, if she’s back…”

“Back?”

Before she could answer, the girls were back around them and they settled in for their interview, sitting much closer than she and Alexia had been, with Narla joining them on the couch.

Lucy was such a natural in front of camera. She was so confident, cocky even and very flirty which made YFN have to hide a grin back to her, though she knew her dimples were giving her away. She gave the same attitude back, proudly drawing goofy grins out of Lucy during the interview.

She’d conducted it the same way as Alexia’s. They’d started with football, both Leah and Alexia throwing comments in off camera that she either answered or was teased with, then they moved to a bit more depth when speaking about her family and the bullying nature of the industry, and then finishing with happiness, fun, flirting, food, Spain, Narla. She’d had no idea that Lucy would be so openly flirting with her, though she didn’t mind it, it gave it more character and showed a side of Lucy the public didn’t really get to see that often. Anything more personal, she would keep just for themselves.

“Can we do player on player?” Lucy asked when they were done.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Leah and I, maybe?”

Alexia looked confused but YFN knew she was giving the two time to speak alone. She nodded. “If Leah is comfortable with it…”

“I can’t promise anything will be postable,” she laughed. “But sure, let’s do it.”

“Okay, I have a list of generic questions you two can use if you’d like.” YFN said and gave them each a copy so they’d have something to work with.

Lucy helped YFN make her way outside to their outdoor seating with Alexia where they still had a good view of the pair inside being filmed chatting away by Emily and Bridget.

“Ah, I wonder what Lucia was doing,” Alexia admitted.

“She’s pretty good at subtlety,” YFN admitted as she watched her laughing away with Leah as she pet Narla between them.

“Yes, she is. I didn’t know that until she… met you.”

YFN was aware that Alexia and Lucy had gotten much closer recently and that’s why she’d only just learnt that about her.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Si… yes… Ridley.”

“I assumed so. I noticed you had Chiquito…”

Alexia smiled at the cat who was getting attention from Emily as Bridget filmed.

“She gave him me when you said I was lonely.”

She always knew Ridley was chivalrous but that was something else. That was romance. “That’s a pretty big gesture.”

Alexia nodded. “She save me yesterday.”

“What happened?!”

“My knee was frustrating me and so I push myself hard to… to see if it can help but I overwork my body.”

“And Riddles was with you?”

“No… no she sees me and take… taken me back to the home and look after me.”

“She was just stopping by to see how you were doing and found you?”

“Si.”

“And that upset you?”

“No… it was nice. She look after me with food and my knee…” she made a gesture.

“…massaging?” YFN suggested.

“Si, massaging and… and we had nice day and dinner and she make alarm for me to wake up for Meg.”

“Meg the physio?”

“Si. She… si.”

She didn’t feel good about the way she avoided speaking about Meg. “What aren’t you saying?”

Alexia sighed and averted her eyes. “We argue.”

“Argued about what?”

“About her carry me.”

“Ah. She’s used to that, though.”

“Yes, she say that. She talk something about SERE?”

She understood where it was going. “SERE training? Yes.”

“I make her tell me…”

“Ah.” It was one thing that Ridley hated speaking about. That, and her family. “Did she tell you?”

“She say… she say they break her. Drown a…and starve and…” she gestured again.

“Tortured?”

“Si.” Alexia’s eyes met hers. “It is true?”

“It’s worse that you can ever imagine. Riddles was being kind. They make them unbreakable. They do all of that and… they even sexually humiliate them.”

“Humil…” Alexia started. YFN found the translation and showed her and watched her face pale. “This… this is why she…”

“Why she sleeps around? One of the reasons, yes. She’s very comfortable with her body.”

“She does not open to me.”

“She’s…” YFN let out a large sigh. “She’s very complicated and very simple at the same time. She hasn’t broken, I’m assuming?”

Alexia shook her head. “She… she tells me to go with Meg.”

That didn’t surprise her. Ridley would want her to be happy and from what Alexia hadn’t said, Meg liked her.

YFN wondered just how much she should say. She thought for a minute about what would be best for Ridley. Was Alexia what was best for her? She saw the way they acted around each other, and it was almost like herself and Lucy. Lucy. She looked inside and found her looking at her, still talking to Leah. She’d always wanted Ridley to find someone to make her happy, to fully open up to. Someone other than herself.

YFN reached out and gently took Alexia’s fingers in her own and met her eyes.

“Alexia… she won’t break. She won’t break, because if she does… she will lose herself.” Alexia’s eyes flooded with questions. “One of the only reasons she got through the military, through the deaths and the lives she took and the torture…” She almost choked on that word. “Was because she wasn’t doing it for herself. She told herself again and again that she wouldn’t break because of us. Me. Her brother. Her mum. And so, if she lets herself give in, then she’ll essentially be losing her anchor. The one thing to keep her grounded and sane. That love she buries so deep.”

Alexia’s eyes flooded with tears. “So… so there is no way… no way to love for her? No way to let me in?”

YFN’s heart broke for her. “She doesn’t believe so…”

A tear broke free from each eye and Alexia wiped them away with her spare hand. YFN squeezed the fingers she was holding. “But I do.”

Her head whipped up. “You do?”

“I really do.”

“How?” The question was almost whispered and YFN was worried she would feel like she was betraying her friend, but she felt the opposite. Like she was saving her.

“She needs to know you’re not going anywhere.” Alexia listened eagerly, and empathetically. “She lost her mum. Brother. Almost me. Friends. So many friends. She needs to know that you’re here to stay and that you won’t leave her. She never attaches because she thinks she’ll lose them and it hurts her too deep. So don’t try to break her. Let her pull you into her bubble herself. It will take a long time, and it’ll be frustrating and maybe feel like you aren’t getting anywhere with her, but you will be. I promise. You’ve already started and you haven’t even noticed….”

Alexia blinked and YFN knew she was thinking about the ten months she’d admired her from afar.

“She… want a home.”

YFN nodded. “She does. She planned on making us one but I have Luce now…” The thought of a home with Lucy was heart warming to her, though she felt horrible that Ridley didn’t have that same feeling. “Because Lucy is my home. She made that apartment in London for her brother… she made a home in Australia for her mum. But all of that is just material. Look close enough, Alexia, and you’ll see she’s trying to find a home, and she doesn’t even know that she’s doing it. She doesn’t realise that home is about people. Or… a person.”

Alexia fiddled with her fingers, and YFN knew she was doing it subconsciously.

“Alexia, please… please don’t break her heart. Don’t try to force her. Don’t try to break her. And if you don’t have any intention on being there for her whenever she needs then please… walk away now. I’m saying this as someone who loves her so, so much, you have no idea.” YFN felt herself tearing up. “We’ve been through everything together, and I couldn’t handle it if you hurt her.”

“You love her.”

“I do. I really, really do. And I would drop everything to pick up the broken pieces of her and put her back together again. But please, don’t put her in that situation. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. She deserves everything good.”

“I won’t hurt her…”

“You’re going to stay?”

Alexia nodded, as if it were the only choice. “Yes, I stay.”

“You have my number. You call me or text me anytime, okay?”

“I will.” Her voice was husky.

“You need to let her know you’re not going anywhere…” she repeated. “That you’re ‘right here’.”

After the Lionesses were done with their player on player, Bridget and Emily passed YFN the footage and left, taking the spare sandwiches and pastries upon Leah’s insistence, YFN making sure to compliment them on how well they did. Shortly after, Lucy and Alexia headed out to their boxing session in the city. Lucy had made time before they left, however, to quietly make sure YFN was okay after seeing her red eyes, ducking down next to her and letting her know just how much she loved her.

“You’re an amazing friend, little one. An amazing person. An amazing girlfriend. I’m so lucky. I love you.” She’d whispered to her; the two sharing a kiss before she went.

“Luce… come back to me,” she’d murmured in return, giving her a longing look. It felt strange to say, as they’d been inseparable the past week, but she wanted her. Always. Especially after the conversation she’d had with Alexia.

“I’ll be back before you know it, love. I’ll bring dinner home.”

“I love a breadwinner.”

She’d grinned, teasingly. “That’s mummy to you.”

“Argh,” She’d replied, disgusted, and shoved her and pointed to the door. “Go, cougar.”

“Isn’t there only three years between you two?” Leah asked as Lucy chuckled her way to the front door.

“Yes, but the maturity differences evens it out… and then some.”

She heard Lucy scoff from the doorway as it clicked shut, and then there were two.

“You must feel pretty attached to that couch by now…” Leah said.

“Oh, you have no idea. Pretty sure my body is imprinted on it.”

She let out a chuckle. “So, it appears I’m not the only therapy you’re giving today.”

“Did Lucy say…?”

She shook her head. “No, I saw you two out the window. Alexia and Ridley, right?”

“Yeah. It’s much, much more complicated than your situation.”

“Have you spoken to Jordan?”

“Yeah a bit actually. She doesn’t like Birmingham too much, I think.”

“Do you feel like you’re missing your home there?”

Chiquito launched up onto the couch, finding interest in Leah before climbing his way over a now sleeping Narla, to settle in YFN’s lap.

“Is it too corny to say that I feel like I’m missing my home whenever I’m without Lucy?”

“A little.” She agreed. “But I know exactly how you feel.”

“Like you’re missing your home without her?”

She nodded. “I’ve struggled over a year without her. I miss her and Blu and our home. She used to live with me in London and we’d see each other every day and then… then I ruined both of our lives.”

“You did it to protect her.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“No, it doesn’t. Because you should have done it with her.”

“I know,” she admitted, not able to look up from the couch. “She’s my person and I just… I fucked it up.”

YFN didn’t let that negativity sit long. “Dory said you protected her the other week from the paparazzi…”

“I told them not to approach her or harass her and they didn’t listen.”

“But you told them. That meant a lot to her.”

Her eyes came up to meet YFN’s. “It did? I was worried she’d feel like I was going behind her back.”

“On the contrary, she thought it showed how much you cared.”

Leah’s shoulders dropped, a little relieved.

“And she also said you and she had a really, really good night.”

“It wasn’t perfect.”

“Perfection isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s about the imperfections, the working together, the unknown. She was telling me in the hospital all about it and it felt like it had a year ago. Natural and stress-free and beautiful.”

“She said that?”

“In her own words. She also loves your hugs.”

Leah gave a sad chuckle. “Yeah, she loves those.”

“You know all of this already. So why did you want to talk to me?”

“I guess I feel like talking to you is the closest I can be to her… because I know how close you two have become.”

YFN nodded, understanding. “My whole life changed the day I saw her on that beach.”

“Now you have Jord, and Lucy, and because of you, she’s talking to me again…”

“Do you have another date planned?”

“Tomorrow night. I wanted to know what you think I should do... or if she’s expecting anything?”

“Dory just wants to be around you. You make her happy.”

“I was going to try and cook for her again. I’ve been taking lessons and I actually know where I messed up last time.”

“Can I suggest something else?”

“Go ahead, probably better than my ideas.”

“I think you should go and watch her game.”

“In Birmingham?”

“Yep. You’re not a sub at the Arsenal game, right?”

She shook her head.

“So go to Birmingham and show her that you’re there to support her. Show her you’re willing to go out of your way for her. Don’t have expectations because she needs time, you know that, but just go and… be. You can take her to a restaurant after the game, or go to our place and spend time with Blu and cook or order in. You’re more than welcome to use my bedroom if she’ll let you sleep there, but like I said, no expectations. Expect that you’ll be driving back that night. We both know she’d never let you, but still, just let her have all of the control, yeah? Give her that power and see how she uses it.”

“You don’t think she’ll be overwhelmed if I show up?”

“Honestly? I think it’d melt her heart. You watch her face when she sees you, Leah. In that first split second that it takes to recover her expression… you’ll see everything she’s feeling.”

Ridley POV

Ridley was staring out the window of her hotel room, unable to break her mind from her. She’d tried so hard and every time she got to the point where she knew she’d succeed, she fell back into it, because she wanted to think about her. About the way she always looked sad… because it made her happy expression that much sweeter. About the way she stood her ground and challenged Ridley like no one had before.

She looked back down at the follow notification from Alexia that she’d just received. Of course, that came with a multitude of other people following suit, being la Reina fans, and she smiled as she looked at her profile picture. Alexia in her beloved number 11 Barcelona jersey; that blonde dyed hair Ridley was obsessed with, up in her high ponytail.

She’d received the notification an hour or so after her meeting, and as she stared at it a little longer, she pressed the button to follow her back.

She found herself scrolling through her posts, unable to stop herself from pausing and admiring one particular photo of her lying face down on the front of a yacht. Her hair was in a messy bun, her tattoos stunning, her ass… was something that had Ridley wondering how she even existed. The things she’d sacrifice to be behind her as she laid like that in front of her… and then there was her hand. It laid palm up, her fingers partially curled and begging for Ridley to entwine her fingers with. She looked so… soft.

Her phone started buzzing and she tilted her head in wonder as Alexia’s name popped up on the screen, just minutes after she’d followed her back.

“Thinking about me, were you?” She murmured in Spanish as she answered.

“Hello to you too.”

“Good afternoon, la Reina. What can I do for you?”

“You can have dinner with me.” Her voice sounded like honey through the phone.

“Oh?”

“I had fun the other day and you’re right, I’ve been too much. I was hoping just to spend some more time with you.”

“You’re leaving London?”

“I never said that.”

Ridley’s stomach did a sickly thing at the thought of Alexia leaving. “Would you like to leave?”

“No, I’d like to stay and spend time with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

That settled her nerves a little.

“So,” Alexia continued. “Dinner and a swim, maybe?”

“I’m not sure if I’ll be back tonight…”

“Back?”

Ridley hummed. “Yes, I have another meeting with a client and it may push me to stay another night if it goes for too long.”

“Where are you?”

“Currently? Switzerland.”

“What…?!” It was more disheartened than shocked.

“Let me just have a look at the flights. I was originally planning to stay here another night.”

“I don’t want to put you out…”

“You could never put me out, Lex. It sounds like a great idea.” Anything to be around her. “Just let me check.” Ridley scrolled through the flights and found two potentials. One landing at 6pm, and the other at 7:30pm. Though, she knew there was more chance she’d be on the later flight given how frustratingly underprepared the clients had been. “I have one that I will most likely be on. I’ll get to the apartment around 8pm, if that works?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

“Would you like me to organise it?”

“No, I’ve already booked a place for 8pm. I’ll call and change the time to a little later.”

“Oh, you have? How presumptuous of you.”

“I learned from the best.”

Ridley chuckled at her humour. “Are you going to dress up for me?”

“Only if you dress up for me.” Cheeky, but not flirty.

“Deal. Let’s both dress nice for each other. I’m heading into my meeting now, but I’ll see you tonight, la Reina.”

Alexia POV

She was nervous. It was 6:30pm and Ridley was going to be at the apartment in the next hour and a half. She’d barely had time to buy a dress with Lucia before picking up Chiquito and getting back to the apartment for her rehab appointment. She’d forgotten about it so late that it had been too late to cancel, and now she was checking her watch for the tenth time to make sure she left before Ridley arrived.

That wouldn’t be good, especially after the discussion she’d had with Blau about letting Ridley know she was always going to be there.

“How is it feeling today?” Meg asked as she scraped her thigh with a plastic device. It was always so painful. Alexia groaned and gripped the gym bench harder from where she sat.

“Okay until you do that…”

Meg giggled. “But it helps. You know it does.”

Alexia didn’t agree with her. She’d been very careful to not encourage her, especially with the physio’s wandering hands.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?”

The question was so off-topic as they’d been professional for the whole session thus-far.

“Si,” she groaned again. It felt like she was peeling her skin off. “I do.”

“Oh? What are you doing?”

“M…Meg I do not wanting to talk about this now.” Alexia said, tilting her head back and squeezing her eyes shut in pain.

“Almost done,” she giggled again and finished up, starting to massage instead. After a few more moments of silence, Meg spoke again, seeming to build confidence from somewhere. “I think you should spend the night with me.”

Alexia’s head shot up and her eyes opened to see Meg staring at her, very, very seriously.

“I have plan tonight…” Was all she could say.

“Then cancel,” she murmured as she moved close to Alexia. “We can hang out and have some fun like we always do, yes?”

Their sessions had been fun, sure, but it was bold of her to make a move. Of course, Alexia should have expected it, having led her on with her flirting the past few sessions.

Meg got even closer now while Alexia stared, wide-eyed and worried she’d hurt her feelings.

“Your session is done,” she whispered as her lips found Alexia’s.

Alexia didn’t kiss her back, she just stared, stunned and pulled away, unable to find words.

A voice sounded from the doorway then and Alexia’s head snapped to where Ridley stood with an expression that was far too neutral.

“Should I come back later?”

[atinystraynstay]

Sincerity Is Scary - Kim Mingyu

Synopsis: Everyone on campus knew Mingyu. He was the guy who all the girls wanted to get one night with, the guy all the guys wanted to be, and everything you wanted. Mingyu and you became friends after a class assignment. It's safe to say though, you have fallen for him when he seems to be interested in other girls. Or at least you think that. "What about you? What are you afraid of?" "Loving you."

Pairing: Frat boy! Kim Mingyu x fem reader

Genre: Angst! A little bit of fluff at the end. Non-idol, friends to lovers. College crush! Mingyu for sure

Warnings: PG-13 - Slight swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual activity mentioned

Word Count: 6.1k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was a crisp late November evening. Campus was alive again after students had traveled home for the holidays. Now, it was crunch time on final assignments, final exams, and trying to keep sane at the end of the term.

You were patiently waiting for your study partner to arrive. You had gotten an iced Americano, gearing up to deep dive into your psychology assignment. It was a final project analyzing fear - how it affects people, what exactly it is, and how it could be conquered. Your pink backpack was resting on the chair across from you. A signal to everyone that you were expecting someone, and that the chair was taken. Campus always got overcrowded when people realized they needed to get their shit together.

You tapped on your phone screen to look at the time. 2:33pm. Where was he?

You glanced at the door to find any signal of your partner. Somehow, you guys have worked together at least on one project every term since sophomore year. While he wasn't always the most motivated academically, working with him was a joy on your end. But that might be because of the view of the guy - Kim Mingyu.

Mingyu was the guy that all the girls desired. It helped that he was well-known on campus as his fraternity always threw the best parties. He was someone who was also willing to help out those around you. For instance, he always made sure all the girls at his parties got home safely by either having a pledge walk them or ordering an Uber for them personally. He also cleaned up any mess he spotted or even just offered a gentle smile to someone who crossed his path. They see an attractive guy and then get to know the guy with a heart of gold who wants the best for himself and his friends. They got to know my friend.

Now, I wouldn't say Mingyu and I were best friends. We did have our own separate social circles with very drastically different ideas of a fun Friday night. However, he was someone I could trust. Not just when it comes to making sure an assignment gets done, but he is someone I can turn to when I need a place to vent. He was a safe space from judgment or ridicule.

The doorbell rang, indicating someone was making their presence known in the coffee shop. You peeked up to see Mingyu. His eyes were scanning the cafe, looking for you. He was wearing a grey hoodie, black sweatpants, and a navy blue beanie on his head. It wasn't too cold in November when you didn't want to be outside, but it was cold enough that you could feel the air nipping at any exposed skin. One strap of his black backpack hung over his shoulder. He looked like a model for Abercrombie & Fitch.

His eyes soon found yours and you watch his smile grow. Did I mention that this man has the personality of a golden retriever?

Eyes from other patrons followed as he maneuvered through the sea of tables and chairs. His eyes never leaving yours though. He was determined to get to you one way or another.

"Y/n!" "Mingyu! How was Thanksgiving dinner with Hansol and Joshua?"

He plopped himself in the seat across from you. He let out a puff of air, probably now feeling the contrast of the heat from inside the cafe compared to the crisp air outside. His backpack made a soft thud, landing assumedly by his feet. His right hand reached up to take down the beanie, shoving it into the front pouch of his hoodie.

"It was actually pretty good. Wonwoo made sure Hansol stayed out of the kitchen, so Joshua and I could cook." He let out an infectious laughter that made me weak in the knees. Fuck, I'm down bad for him. "Wish you could have made it though!"

And try not to drool over you in front of all your friends? Pretend I don't have feelings for you? Yeah, no thanks.

"I'm sorry! My folks said I needed to come home, trying to savor every family get-together before applying for jobs and being big scary adults." "Yeah, I get what you mean. The guys have become like family to me. Who really knows where all 13 of us are going to end up once we all graduate." "No plans to keep the fraternity life going after graduation?" I teased. He laughed at my joke, quickly shaking his head. "No, I plan to step back completely after I graduate. Think it would be too sad if I was one of the graduated guys who just stuck around the fraternity house. Or the one that has to keep drinking and constantly talking about 'the good old days.' No, I think I'm ready to be taken a bit more seriously." I couldn't help but smile wider at the thought of the man Mingyu was going to be. Of course, he was already a stellar guy. He was the guy I wanted so desperately to take home to my parents, to present him as my one and only. College was just the beginning for him. Kim Mingyu was destined for amazing things, to do amazing things for this world. I just hoped I could become a part of it.

"So, you ready to get started on this project?" I asked. "Why can't we just sit here and chat? Why is it that we have to get started on the project? It's not due for another three weeks." "Because, I know how you are, Mingyu. You'll throw ragers the next couple of weeks as a final hooray before everyone leaves for a month and then you'll forget about the project until the very last minute which makes us both stressed! If we at least brainstorm and decide what we are going to do, it means less work in the long-run." "And more time for you to come by one of my parties?" I sighed in defeat. Mingyu knew I wasn't the type of person who liked to go out to parties. I liked going to the dive bars with my friends. There was nothing appealing to me about sweaty bodies pushed up against one another in a basement. You couldn't even hear people with how loud the bass was! However, Mingyu has been trying to get me to go to a party since we met. And he's been using that this being our senior year as a perfect way to guilt trip me into going. "And I'll come by one of your parties," I promised. "What about the one tonight?" "Already having one tonight?" "What! It's a great way to welcome everyone back," he laughed. "Seriously. If we are able to decide how we are going to do the project, then you have to come by tonight." "Ok, ok. I'll come by tonight if we both do the work." "Deal!"

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After an hour of intensive research, you and Mingyu decided on an approach for your project. You were going to interview people on campus to see if there was a common fear among college students. You had some guesses, but you were hoping to find a way to bust those fears that plague most college students.

"I think this might be our best project yet, y/n! I don't know what you think of these types of things. You're so creative."

Don't blush, y/n. Don't give yourself away.

I smiled politely in return, a laugh bubbling out of my throat. "I just like creating work for you to do. You know I'm the type to take allllll the credit for every assignment," I teased.

"Oh right. Because you know the moment I do things a certain way then you'll just jump in and try to do the project all by yourself." "Hey! That was sophomore year y/n! I think I've gotten a lot better since then when it comes to group projects," I pouted. "You have. Trust me, darling. There's a reason why I always come back to you," he winked.

Oh, there he goes again. Mingyu the Flirt. I was going to slip one of these days, let him and all of campus probably know my secret if he keeps it up. And the worst part was that it wasn't just an act. His was just naturally flirty.

Both of us were beginning to pack up our backpacks. Our laptops had slid into our backpacks before they zipped up in unison. It was getting close to 5pm, and if I was expected to be at Mingyu's tonight, I had to get home and get ready. Not that I was banking one tonight being the night things finally work out for us, but I didn't want to seem like a slob.

"So, you coming tonight, Ms. Anti-Fraternity?"

I sighed and nodded. "Yes, Mr. President, I will be there."

He smiled wide before swinging an arm around me. Oh god dammit. The universe was testing me. "That's the spirit, angel!" He began leading the two of us out of the cafe, side by side and pulled into his side. I was trying my best not to look like a deer caught in headlights by his gesture. I'm surprised my legs haven't given out at all from the series of events that are unfolding right now. Sure, Mingyu and I were close, but he's never been this bold with me. What is he up to?

I could feel eyes on us as we made our way out of the coffee shop. Some girls were whispering to one another, glancing towards us. Other guys looked at Mingyu with shock. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole to prevent me from embarrassing not only me, but also him. Keeping his arm around me, he used his free hand to push the glass door open.

"You're too kind," I said playfully. I offered a gentle smile as I detached myself from Mingyu so I could step over the threshold. I glanced behind me to see if Mingyu was following but froze when I saw he didn't. He was still standing by the door, leaving it open. Instead of just holding it open from someone coming in, I caught him at the start of a conversation. He was talking to Jennie.

Now, Jennie and I didn't have any beef. She was in our psychology class, so we ran into her often. She never joined our study sessions, thank goodness, because she often preferred to study with her sorority sisters. However, she knew Mingyu outside of class as she was always trying to set up mixers and pre-games for football season with his fraternity. Jennie had sensed that Mingyu and I were close, so oftentimes, she would approach me asking if he was still single. She was trying to gather her intel before making a move.

"Excited for the party tonight, Mingyu! Want me to come over early to help set up?" She took a step closer to him. Her hip brushed against his which caused his eyes to widen. His grip slipped from the door as he was holding the edge, closing the door on me. "Oh, I didn't really think of that. I was just going to get Seungkwan and Dino to help me, maybe some of the pledges." That was the last thing I heard before the door fully closed. I was now on the outside looking in. Time froze as I watched her take another step forward. She blocked his view of me. Her hand gently reached up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it. She wore a playful smile while Mingyu smiled, or at least tried to. I would like to think that I knew him well enough to tell his genuine smile apart from his fake one. All I could see was him nodding before she began leaning in.

Okay, that's my cue. I quickly spun on my heels to walk in the direction of my apartment.

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"Are you sure the dress isn't too short?" I mumbled.

I was walking to the frat with my roommate. She insisted that I shouldn't go alone. Not sure if it was because of my retelling of the events that transpired outside of the coffee shop or the fact she wanted a good laugh at me attending my first frat party.

After seeing Jennie with Mingyu, I ranted to my roommate about everything. I was frustrated with the circumstances where the two of us would never work out. We are two separate people who make awesome friends. I didn't want to jeopardize that. It was also partially due to the fact I could not bring myself forward to confess to Mingyu how I was feeling.

Her solution was simple - dress to kill. "If you can't say how you feel about him, make him realize what he's missing out on. You gotta go out there and steal his attention."

The look that could kill was a rather short red dress. It was a sparkly red which would be able to be noticed even in the dimmest of spots in the hell I was about to enter. A frat basement was somewhere I thought I'd never end up, but here we are. It hugged my curves perfectly and had sleeves that were cuffed at the elbow by an elastic band. I wore a pair of beat-up sneakers, so I could be comfortable for the evening. This wasn't a formal event. This was about making Mingyu notice me.

"To be honest, I think it could be shorter. But you're not trying to sleep with him, just get him to notice you, right? It's enough to let his imagination run wild," she smirked.

I rolled my eyes at her antics yet kept a light smile on my lips. It was a good idea. I just felt so out of my element, so I was trying my hardest to warm up to the idea before stepping foot into the party. I wanted to come across as confident as ever, to catch his attention, and to make him realize that maybe I have a chance compared to the other girls he's been with or at least seen around campus with.

After 10 minutes walking, we arrived at the frat house. There were a few people loitering around outside. Most girls were wearing ripped jeans or very short black skirts. There were a few fraternity brothers gathered up at the front, a few I recognized - Joshua, Wonwoo, and Seungcheol. They were looking across the groups gathered outside of their residence, probably trying to see how they could minimize the appearance to avoid cops showing up. Yet, Wonwoo was looking directly at me with a smug girl. He was probably the closest with Mingyu so I knew him the best.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He called out to us. Some people on the sidewalk and the two guys beside him looked our way. I groaned internally at Wonwoo's commotion before approaching the entrance of the party.

"How the hell did Mingyu convince you to come, doll?" "I lost a bet to the devil." "Well, you can go ahead inside. I'm sure Mingyu is keeping an eye out for you." "Oh come on, he probably sensed her already out here. He was basically buzzing off the walls when he was telling me we would be graced with y/n's presence tonight," Seungcheol laughed. "Be careful, y/n. I heard he likes to bite," Joshua teased.

I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from blushing hard. It's not like I haven't fantasized about him like that before.

The three guys grinned at me, stepping out of the way to let me and my roommate through. Instantly, we were greeted by groups of people all drinking, mingling, and dancing. You could hear the bass from downstairs through the floor, as we were on the main floor.

My roommate pushed me through towards the kitchen. I looked at her puzzled, thinking the initial plan was to find Mingyu. "You need a drink to loosen up first, babes. Trust me. You look terrified right now, not sexy." I just nodded as we were found ourself in a somewhat crowded kitchen. Yet, there was a pathway to the collection of alcohol on display - tequila, gin, vodka, rum with a plethora of mixers. Definitely Mingyu's idea to have more mixers than alcohol, so everyone could drink to their comfort level.

We were by the kitchen island, almost in our own little world. The groups around us were quickly grabbing their refills before either moving away to a different part of the house or to the main event in the basement. Before I could even process anything, a shot glass was placed in front of me, seeing my roommate looked at me with a wicked grin. "Choose your poison, y/n."

My eyes scanned the liquor before reaching towards the tequila. My hands were about to grasp the handle but I took a quick surveillance. Where could it be? "Looking for these, princess?"

I glanced over my shoulder to see the man of the hour, Mingyu. In one hand, he was holding a container or salt, and in his other hand was a lime. Speak of the devil. He was wearing a black shirt and black pants. A gold chain was around his neck. I would love to just grab that chain and tug his lips close to mine. Okay, I do need a drink. ASAP.

"How did you know?" "Feel like I know you pretty well, but still wasn't sure if you were going to show up tonight. I figured I would still prep just in case. Welcome to my kingdom," he teased.

He crossed the room to be where were. For a moment, I could have sworn his eyes traveled my body. First at the dress before looking up and down my torso and legs. I had spun to face him more directly. It was then I could have sworn his eyes were on my chest before he made eye contact with me. He set the salt and lime to my right, in between my roommate and I. His other hand rested on the countertop to my other side, somewhat caging me.

"You're just full of surprises. First, disappearing on me at the coffee shop, but now actually showing up to my party? And now wanting to do tequila shots?" "Just scratching the surface," I smirked.

My roommate shared glances between Mingyu and I. But before I could introduce her to him, she stepped back completely. My eyes widened slightly but she wore that same smirk from before. "I think I'm gonna let you two catch up. I'm going to go talk to that one guy outside," she announced. I couldn't even argue with her to stay before she headed out of the kitchen.

"And then there were two," Mingyu announced. Seeing as my roommate had wondered off for her own adventure, Mingyu placed his hand fully beside the salt and tequila. I was fully in the lion's den now.

I mustered up the courage to look him in the eyes. It was then I noticed that the entire kitchen had cleared out. When did that happen? Did people just leave seeing Mingyu walk in? The thought of him having that type of authority made me weak in the knees.

"Wonwoo wasn't lying when he said you looked absolutely breathtaking tonight, baby," he murmured.

His hand to my right moved to rest on my side. His fingers slowly trailing up and down my side, teasing the waters. His touch was light, almost not there. It was enough though for electricity to shoot through my body, making me hyperaware this was reality and not some fantasy.

"You talking about me to others now?"

He leaned forward, enough so he just had to bow his head down to be at my ear. "You're all I talk about. You don't even know," he whispered. His lips brushed against the shell of my ear, enough to cause goosebumps to form and shivers to run down my spin. If it wasn't for the countertop pressing into my back gently, my knees would have given out.

"Come on, I have something better than just doing shots all night," Mingyu said. He reached down to grab onto my head, lacing his fingers with mine. His touch was warm and soft, sending shockwaves through my nervous system. I didn't get a chance to question him where we were going before he led me out of the kitchen. He just turned back towards me and gave me a wink. Oh god.

We made our journey through the frat house towards the split staircase. One that went down to the basement and another that went upstairs, assumedly where the guys slept. People who saw Mingyu turned to try to strike up a conversation but stopped when they saw me by his side. Some girls were throwing daggers in my directions with their harsh gaze. Jennie being one of them before she turned her back to talk to her sorority sisters. How the tables have turned. I expected that Mingyu was going to take me to the basement, but was met with surprise when we started ascending up the staircase. A few of Mingyu's brothers started whistling and howling at the sight of Mingyu with someone.

From in front of me, I heard Mingyu sigh and watched as he shook his head. "I'm sorry about them. Just ignore them. They wished they were getting some action tonight, but I think we both know the only date they'll have is with the toilet when they drink too much."

I laughed at Mingyu's joke. "No worries about it. I guess they are just showing support for their friend?" "Yeah, I guess so. I just don't want you to lump me in with them."

What was that supposed to mean? I never viewed Mingyu at the typical frat guy. I didn't hear stories about him just sleeping after a party and dumping a girl the next day. Sure, he has been linked with a few people, but he didn't seem like the type to do one-night stands. He wasn't the guy who made jungle juice with unknown liquors that could get you fucked up fast. He was meticulous in what was distributed to his party, often hoping people bring their own alcohol so they know what they re consuming. Or at least that's what he told me.

Mingyu soon led me to his bedroom. He walked in through the doorway, but I found myself froze. Was my perception of Mingyu wrong this whole time? Were we just going to fuck? Did I mean that little to him that he was willing to throw our friendship away.

He must've felt the slight tug of his hand due to me stopping my movement. He turned his head back, trying to assess what was wrong. I stood by the doorway, trying to pull my head gently out of his grip.

"Gyu, I don't think this is a good idea. We're friends. Us sleeping together-" "You think I brought you up here to just have sex? Doll, I'm hurt," he gasped. I watched as he playfully placed his hand over his heart. "You think I'm that much of a horny bastard?"

I quickly shook my head before rushing into his room, stopping short of where he stood. "Gyu, please. That's not what I meant at all. I just didn't know why else you'd bring me up here when the party is downstairs? Isn't that why frat guys bring girls upstairs? To fuck?"

He smirked seeing how flustered I got. My cover was slowly unraveling, my motive of having him chase after me being flipped where I was starting to chase after him. "Y/n, you've seen too many movies," he laughed. "Besides, I'd never do anything to jeopardize losing you."

I could feel my cheeks becoming hotter. I hoped at least that was being concealed under the darkness of his bedroom. He stepped back and headed towards his bedroom window. "Do you trust me?" He asked. I nodded my head slowly, trying not to come across as too eager. Any sort of dignity that I could preserve at the moment is of upmost importance.

"Good." Mingyu flipped the lock at the top of his window. He pushed it open all the way until there was a soft thud of the window hitting the top of the window sill. He stepped out onto the roof with ease. He then turned back towards me, a hand reached out to me.

"The things I do for you, Gyu, I swear," I huffed. I took his hand, my other hand trying the best to keep my dress from flying up.

"Watch your head, gorgeous," he called out. This time, his tone was gentle and soft. It was a stark contrast being outside where you could barely hear the music from inside the house. I stepped over the window sill carefully, one foot down before the other following. I was somewhat hunched over to avoid hitting my head. Mingyu took it upon himself to use his free hand to hover over my head in case I did end up standing up too soon.

Once I was over the window and onto the roof, I stood up straight. My eyes widened from the view. "Oh wow," I breathed out. You could see all of campus from up here! You could see the tall oak trees that lined up around campus. You could see the various academic buildings and the college town beside us.

What really took my attention was noticing that there was a blanket sprawled out on the rooftop. Luckily, the rooftop was leveled and next to the fire escape, so there was no worry of slipping or anything. The blanket was added for comfort. I also noticed that there was a bottle of my favorite white wine Moscato chilling in a bucket. There were also string lights that decorated the ledge of the rooftop. It was it's on oasis.

"Come on, angel." He squeezed my hand gently before guiding me towards the blanket. I followed him gently to the blanket where I took my seat, my legs tucking underneath me. Mingyu joined me on the right side, sitting rather close. "Wait, hold on."

He popped up from the spot on the rooftop before heading towards inside. I frowned a bit when he left me alone, but turned my attention to the scenery outside. The warmth from inside the house still radiated throughout my body, so the crisp air of the November evening didn't bother me as much. My eyes ran along with the stars, trying to see what constellations I could make out. It was peaceful out here.

I jumped a bit when I felt something brush against my legs. I looked down to see a leather jacket, but relaxed when I noticed it was Mingyu dropping his jacket over me. I tilted my head back to see him looking down at me, a fond smile on my lips. Yet, there was something in his eyes. Maybe it was the glow of the lights outside making them sparkle more than usual or something on his mind? Either way, he was breathtaking. "Quite the gentleman, Gyu," I teased. "Thank you though." "You know I'd do anything for you. That's also why I set this up for you, for us, really. I know large crowds like the one happening inside aren't your thing, so I wanted to make sure you were comfortable being here." "So you don't do this for every girl?"

Mingyu snorted a bit, chuckling lightly under his breath. He pulled out two red solo cups, handing one to me while keeping the other by him. "No, y/n. Only the best reserved for you."

Carefully, Mingyu twisted off the cap of the wine bottle. He first poured the wine into my red solo cup. I couldn't help but giggle at the notion of drinking wine out of a red solo cup, something that typically holds cheap beer or mixed drinks.

"So that's why I'm getting a red solo cup? To really get the experience of being at a frat party?" "Hey, it's the best I could do," I laughed. "You really trust me with anything breakable?" "No, you're right. If it was a wine glass, you would've dropped it by now," I laughed, taking a sip of the wine. "I told you I'd do anything for you."

I kept my wide smile hidden once from Mingyu when I took a sip of the wine. He was quite the charmer. I placed the Moscato down behind me, by the corner of the blanket to avoid spilling. Mingyu did the same as we both seemed to gaze out at the world around us. It's crazy to think that in a short few months, we'll be saying goodbye to this place. This place has become my favorite place filled with my favorite people.

"So, y/n. What happened early? Why did you just leave the coffee shop?" Mingyu asked suddenly.

My eyes widened at the question. "Oh, you noticed?" I asked softly. My head dropped to look at my lap. "I thought you were busy talking to Jennie. I didn't want to interrupt."

"If anything, she interrupted us," he sighed. He then reached for his cup and took another sip. "Is that what you're afraid of? Being rude?"

I shook my head, picking my head up slightly. No, if only you knew what I was afraid of.

"I'll tell you what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid of being alone. I love my life as it is right now, but I'm afraid of the uncertainty that comes with the next chapter," he confessed. He was leaning back on his hands now. His gaze shifting from the view of campus below to me. "I'm comfortable knowing I get to see my friends, get to see you. What am I supposed to do next?"

I frowned hearing his concern. "Gyu, whatever you do next, you're going to do great. I know it's scary about moving away from what you are familiar with. What I can say though is that knowing you, seeing you grow over the past two years, has been remarkable." My hand reached over to rest on his knee comfortingly, giving it a light squeeze. I looked at him directly in the eyes, hoping he could sense my sincerity in my words. "You're a great guy, Gyu. Don't doubt your capabilities. You can do anything you put your mind to."

His gazed looked down towards where my hand was on his. I followed suit. Oh no, did I make him uncomfortable? I was about to retreat my hand from him, but he quickly grasped it gently. "Thank you," he whispered. He lifted my hand to kiss the back of it before letting it rest in his lap. His grip on my hand was loose, in case I wanted to slip my hand away. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

"What about you? What are you afraid of?"

I took a deep breath. Mingyu just poured his heart out to me. I would be a hypocrite if I didn't say something, especially when I told him to put his brave face on and be determined to get what he wants. I deserve to at least try, right? Or I could end up regretting it for the rest of my life? That's at least what people warn about.

His gaze on me was soft. He was patient as he waited for me to muster up my truth.

"Loving you," I confessed. "Loving me? You're afraid of that? Why?" "Gyu, let's look at what you did for me tonight alone. You went through the trouble of setting up basically a separate event just for me. This is the shit they write about in romance novels. It just doesn't happen to girls like me!" "Wait, let's back up first. Do you like me, y/n?"

Oh god, oh god. Why did I open my mouth and say something? Maybe I could spin it off that I'm afraid of commitment in general? What if I spun it that I was trying to get over an ex and I was shocked by Mingyu's kind gesture? That he already treats me better than any ex? I mean, there is some truth to that. Mingyu was better than any ex I've had.

"Y/n?"

My mind was trying to wrap around some sort of lie I could tell to save myself. Before I could finalize my lie, I felt a hand on my face. Very slowly and gently, I realized Mingyu put his hand on my face. He was turning it towards me. I also noticed that he had moved closer to me now. He was sitting up tall, his face hovering over mine. He tilted my head up so I had to look at him in the eyes.

"Y/n, do you like me?" "I might have the smallest, tiniest crush on you," I whispered. "How do you think that we could conquer that fear?"

I raised an eyebrow, about to pull back from here. He was really thinking about our final assignment right now? "Because you took the first step in confessing your feelings for me. And you said you were afraid of loving me. It seems seeing if I have the same feelings for you is the best way to conquer that fear." "Well? Do you?" "Baby girl, I've had feelings since our first group project together."

His forehead gently rested against mine. He could probably hear my rapid heartbeat at this point. "Why do you think I've always picked you as my group partner?" "Because I'm smart and can get stuff done?" I laughed, trying to ease my nerves. He chuckled at that joke. "Well, yes, because you are smart. You're also very kind, insightful, determined, and gorgeous. You are the girl that I've been trying to get to come to my party so I could finally make a move in the element I feel most comfortable in. If anything, I'm afraid of you." "Afraid of me? Mingyu, you're 6'2." How can you be afraid of someone who is barely 5'5"?" "Because you are too perfect to me. I know what people think of me. They see the frat president who sleeps with people. When they see you, they see the girl who is going to move mountains when she graduates. They will wonder why you settled for a guy like me?"

That's it. I was not going to allow him to slander himself. Feeling bold enough, I moved Mingyu's jacket off of my legs. I set it beside me before gently climbing into his lap. One hand rested on his shoulder to stabilize me as I got comfortable. My other hand moved to rest on his cheek, now being the one turning his attention towards me.

Mingyu wrapped his arms around me. He pulled me in close, tightening his arms so I wouldn't fall backwards by mistake. My heart picked up as I felt my breathing become a bit shaky. Was this actually happening? "If you saw what I see, you would see that you are everything that I want. That's why I'm afraid of loving you because you seem too good to be real," I confessed. "Well let me help you overcome your fear by proving to you this is reality."

Mingyu leaned in slightly. He stopped himself short, where his lips were brushing against mine. He looked up into my eyes to see if I felt comfortable. My heart melted at the simple act of checking for consent. See. He was one in a million.

Taking it upon myself, my lips pressed against his fully. I could feel his smile against my lips as he tilted his head ever so slightly. Just enough for our lips to be pressed together perfectly, causing the kiss to move smoothly as our lips were catching one another's. His lips were just as smooth. He tasted like wine mixed with a bit of mint chapstick. Butterflies erupted in my stomach. This was actually happening. My one hand slid from his shoulder to rest on the back of his head.

He was the one who slowly broke the kiss. I pouted playfully, as it ended far too soon for my liking. He chuckled lightly before pecking my lips.

"Don't worry, darling. There will be more kisses." "That wasn't so scary after all," I confessed. "I'll help you conquer any fear of yours if you let me."