#{ Replies after 5k years lol..

[propertyofwicked]

WAS IT REAL? - LN

lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?

based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)

the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3

masterlist the playlist

✧ tell me was it real...

...or was it just pretend? ✧

“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”

“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”

“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”

“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.

lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.

since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.

“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”

“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.

y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.

“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.

“that’s never good,” she joked.

“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”

“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.

“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”

“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.

“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.

“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”

“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.

“ok.”

“ok?”

“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”

✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...

....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧

the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.

so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.

and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.

their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.

“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”

“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.

“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.

“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.

“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.

and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.

lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.

“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.

y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.

im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.

lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.

she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.

“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.

there was no camera. they were totally alone.

✧ colours of the sky in your eyes

...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧

lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.

y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.

which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.

and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.

the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.

“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.

“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”

lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.

“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.

“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”

“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.

“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”

“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.

“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.

the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.

“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.

“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”

“gross.”

“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.

“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.

he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?

y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.

so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.

lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.

“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.

“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”

“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.

“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.

“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.

“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word

y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.

the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.

or not.

lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.

he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.

“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.

“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.

“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“what does that mean?”

“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”

“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”

“well no but-”

“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.

he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.

but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.

he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.

she was gone, and it was all his fault.

✧ i know that you're perfect for me

…tell me that you're sorry

…won't you please just take my heart again ✧

it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.

“you did what?” max shouted in shock.

“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

“you’re stupid.”

“i know.”

“in what world was that ever going to end well?”

“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.

“im so stupid,” max replied.

“how are you the stupid one here?”

“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”

lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.

“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.

“but she’s doing ok, right?”

“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.

“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.

“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”

“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”

“i know, sorry.”

“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”

y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.

she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.

y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.

-

y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.

“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.

“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.

she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.

“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.

“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.

“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”

oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.

“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”

“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.

lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?

“he-”

“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.

“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.

“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.

“she doesn’t want to see you.”

“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”

“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.

that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.

“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.

“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.

it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.

“hey zak,” he started.

“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.

“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.

“im good.”

“what are you doing today?”

“just going over some things with the team.”

“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”

“war-”

“where’s she staying?”

“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.

“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.

z → mission complete.

o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?

z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him

of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.

his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.

“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”

“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.

“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.

“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.

“oscar’s here.”

“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.

lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.

“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.

“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”

“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.

“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.

“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”

“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.

“so why are you here now?”

“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.

the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?

“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.

“feel,” she said bluntly.

“huh?”

“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”

“then why won’t you let me in?”

“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”

“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”

lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.

“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.

“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.

“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.

“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.

“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.

“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”

“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.

“there’s a lot to make up for.”

“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.

lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.

“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.

“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.

“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”

[notiddygothgf]

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE &lt;3

|  come over tn?

|  i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

|  omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes. 

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe. 

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you. 

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you. 

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark. 

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision. 

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs. 

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze. 

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship. 

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp. 

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here. 

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you.  Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face. 

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue. 

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away. 

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears. 

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit. 

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red. 

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side. 

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination. 

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts. 

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you. 

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father. 

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation. 

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him. 

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him . 

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole. 

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion. 

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly. 

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan. 

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!” 

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake. 

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–” 

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle. 

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck. 

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling. 

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there. 

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end. 

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…” 

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend. 

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth. 

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said,  “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke. 

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO    just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO    just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

[jsluvtzu]

who’s protecting who?

park jihyo x fem!reader

summary: in the midst of attempting to keep jihyo from getting hurt, you ultimately forget about yourself

cw: none, men dni

wc: 5k

a/n: first fic in a while hooray!! my friends and i beat the pickleball pandemic and caught the volleyball virus instead, so enjoy this fluffy vb themed fic :p (this might be my longest one yet)

as you finished ringing up the last customer of the usual lunch rush, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. hurriedly assuring the customer that their order would be out soon and excusing yourself to the back, you asked your coworker to take over the counter for a bit while you took a small break from standing for so long.

pulling your phone out of your pocket and into your hand, you saw a text message flash across your screen, slightly blocking the lockscreen picture you had of your girlfriend kissing your cheek.

jihyo 🩷

y/nnn i think i wanna try volleyball and learn how to be as good as u :pp

smiling as your eyes flickered between reading her text and reminiscing on the exact moment the photo on your phone was taken, you tapped on the message and replied.

okay love i"ll teach u lol

knowing jihyo had a busy schedule consisting of both work and her 12 different hobbies, you didn't want her to overwhelm herself by taking on yet another one. nonetheless, you were excited to have her join you in something that you've always imagined the two of you doing together.

u sure ur not too busy tho?

it'd been about 2 years since you first picked up the sport as a pastime with a couple friends. eventually it turned into friendly tournaments on the weekends at the local community court with other groups, which then turned into trying out for professional leagues and miraculously making it into one.

jihyo 🩷

i can always make time silly

unfortunately, your break time was now quickly coming to an end, so you rushed to type out a response and carelessly shoved your phone back into your pocket.

we can go after i get off work then :) wear something u can freely move in and put on ur most comfortable shoes. i love u see u soon ml

speedrunning through the last few hours of your shift was excruciating when all you could think about was finally being able to show the girl you loved most how to play the sport you loved most. the anticipation of coaching her into becoming a better player than you made it impossible for you to focus on making a drink as simple as an iced latte.

"oh shit-" you whispered to yourself, realizing that you'd almost overfilled the cup with the caffeinated liquid.

as you clocked out and drove home, you couldn't stop yourself from mindlessly humming and calmly dancing to the music you had playing in your car. your coworkers even stopped to ask you, "what's got you in such a good mood?" multiple times.

and to no surprise, jihyo was already packed and ready to go the minute you opened the door to your shared apartment. the oversized backpack on her shoulders was filled to the brim with snacks and water for the active evening ahead. her sporty outfit was exactly what you'd imagined your girlfriend would wear. a slightly loose fitting muscle tee, athletic leggings, and her new favorite pair of running shoes on her feet to top it all off.

you couldn't help but melt at her eagerness as you took your shoes off and set your keys down onto the table by your shoe rack.

"hi baby," you said amusedly, "you're well prepared i see."

she beamed at you with her doe eyes and hummed in agreement as she skipped towards you to greet you with a kiss. her warm lips made contact with yours in a desperate manner, almost a silent message to relay just how much she'd missed you since you left for work early in the morning. you pulled away just enough to where your lips barely grazed each other, "let me change first and then we can be on our way, okay?" you pecked her lips again and once more to her cheek as you walked away to your shared bedroom to free yourself of your coffee reeking clothes. jihyo quickly set her backpack down onto the couch and followed behind you shortly.

you changed into your team's white long sleeved compression jersey with your custom number on the back; a bright pink "21" for jihyo, of course. soon after, you slid into your spandex shorts and turned your head to the side to see jihyo leaning up against the wall next to you. the sunlight shining through the open blinds accentuated her features perfectly. she was smiling proudly as she watched you morph into a different version of yourself that she only saw at your games.

"what're you looking at.." you said shyly, suddenly feeling self-conscious under your girlfriend's gaze.

she only giggled in response and lifted herself off the wall to fill the room with a loud smacking sound as she slapped your ass and made her way over to your bed, plopping down and facing the ceiling. you immediately let out a loud "oww!!" and rubbed over your burning cheek to soothe it.

"so, who are we playing against today? anyone i should be worried about?" jihyo asked. you walked over to the full-sized mirror in the corner of the room before answering her question, still focused on the stinging pain she left. "hm? oh, actually we aren't playing a real match today. i'm just gonna be showing you the basics and whatnot," you replied, tying your hair into a messy low bun at the same time.

a couple seconds of silence passed, concerning you enough to make you look behind you through the mirror and see your girlfriend who once laid flat down suddenly pin-straight up glaring at you. her posture was something out of a horror movie the way her back was perfectly aligned and her hands were beside her knees. you gulped and almost genuinely got scared until you glanced down to see her feet barely touching the floor. that's when you choked back a laugh at how cute her attempt at intimidating you was.

you finished up doing your hair and walked towards your pouty girlfriend. "what's wrong? why are you making a face like you just came out of one of those insidious movies?” you asked, pulling out a few strands to frame your face.

she whined in response, "i don't wanna learn the basics.. that's so boring. i wanna learn how to really play volleyball. not that kiddie stuff for the youth age group." you reached a hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "hey! that 'kiddie stuff' is really important, you know. you can't just go right into spiking without knowing how to hit and jump correctly first," you grumbled. jihyo looked at you confusedly, "..spiking..?" "exactly," you huffed.

jihyo groaned as she launched herself backwards onto the bed, the sheets rustling under her and beginning to surround her as she sunk further into the mattress.

"trust meee, it's for your own safety, love. i just don't want you getting hurt if i let you go right into a game not knowing what to do, that's all. a one-on-one session is always the best option for beginners," you reassured her, grabbing both of her arms and slowly pulling her up towards you. when you heard your girlfriend groan at you again, you realized it could be something else bothering her.

"ohh, or are you just annoyed that you have to be alone with me?? is that what this is??" you asked teasingly. but as soon as she heard that, jihyo stopped her whining immediately and scrunched her eyebrows up in a questioning manner, shaking her head aggressively.

"w-what? no! why would i be not wanna be alone with you! i just wanna be good already! just like.. let me skip the tutorial or something pleaseee," she pleaded. jihyo removed her arms from your grip and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you closer to her. you mockingly nodded your head and sarcastically spewed out "uh huhs" and "mhms" repeatedly, letting your girlfriend continue tightly hugging you and begging you for a free pass.

-

during the whole car ride there, it was impossible for you and jihyo to spend more than 2 seconds without touching each other in some way. whether it be her insisting she hold your hand while she secretly gushed at how attractive you look driving one-handed, or her switching to playing with your fingers while she asked more volleyball questions, or even kissing at each red light, there was never a single moment in that car where you two weren’t expressing your love in a form of touch.

as you pulled into the parking lot of the court complex, jihyo remembered the long nights and hours upon hours you would spend at these courts — it was practically your second home. that thought suddenly worried her that she might’ve been taking away your precious practice hours.

“baby, don’t you have practice today? if you do, you have to focus on that, not teaching me how to play. we can always do that some other time,” jihyo rambled.

you softly laughed at her flustered state knowing that you never told her the season was over yet. “no, love, don’t worry. it’s off-season for now, i don’t have any practices to go to,” you said reassuringly, squeezing her hand in yours to help settle her down. “plus, i would skip out on practice any day if it meant i could be with you.”

she sighed contently as you parked in an empty spot and turned the car off. before jihyo could even reach to click her seatbelt off, you teleported over to her side, opening the door for her and holding your hand out to help her up from your low sedan seats. your girlfriend mewled at the chivalrous gesture, grinning from ear to ear as she peeked her head out of the door. and to make sure she didn’t bump her head against the doorframe, you shielded her head with your hand as she came up.

popping the trunk open, you grabbed your backpack that was filled with volleyball gear and swung it over one shoulder. you made sure to grab jihyo’s as well, throwing hers over your other shoulder.

“you see that building over there with the big 2 painted on it?” you asked, pointing to the right side of the complex, “that’s where we’ll be. it’s a smaller court though since it’s only a practice gym.” jihyo looked in the direction you pointed at and hummed as she took in the size difference from the competition gym on the left and the practice one you mentioned.

while you were leading her to the unlocked doors of the practice court, jihyo kept pestering you to let her help you with one of the bags you were carrying, but of course you never let up. it even got to the point where you accidentally whacked your poor girlfriend with her own snack-filled bag while twisting and turning in protest of her need to help you.

“oh fu- sorry! i’m sorry, it was an accident i swear!” you frantically apologized, pulling jihyo into a messy hug. the heavy bags on your shoulders slipping off your arms as you held her close to you.

jihyo faked a hissy fit and jokingly pushed you away, “no i get it, you just hate me,” she said firmly, turning her head sharply and crossing her arms.

you paid no mind to your girlfriend’s antics, only catching up to her to hold open the door and watch her stomp past you in a sulk.

“i love youuu,” you chuckled.

her reply was barely audible, but you heard her mumble out an “i love you too” back.

-

setting your things down on the floor along the sidelines, you grabbed out an extra pair of knee pads you'd packed for jihyo. "come here love, let me put these on you," you ordered. it was difficult to slide the pads onto her legs with her shoes still on, so you helped her take them off for the time being, placing the pair neatly beside you.

kneeling down in front of her, you gently lifted one of jihyo's legs up at a time, skillfully adjusting the protective pads around her knee and taking extra precaution to make sure her legs were still able to move properly. you then sat back on your knees and admired your work, wondering why you felt like there was something missing.

"hmm.. i think.. i have something else for you to try on too," you pondered, digging through your bag once again to discover an old pair of extra small knee pads that didn't fit you anymore.

standing up with the gear in your hands, you held your girlfriend's forearm out as you stretched the material to enclose around her limb.

you snickered slightly at your spontaneous idea, "these are makeshift elbow pads specially designed for you." the pads were big enough to fit comfortably around her arms, protecting her exposed elbows from any potential harm.

jihyo allowed you to put them on her with no complaint, but soon began her whining when she began to feel the restricting feeling around her arms that was slightly limiting her movement.

"noo y/n, i don't need these. and they're so uncomfy!! i think i would play better without them.." she argued, scratching at the inside of her elbows to relieve the itching it caused.

knowing that your girlfriend was bound to try something outside of her comfort zone once she got into the flow of things, you decided it was the right decision to do everything in your power to help keep her from hurting herself while doing so. "just wear them please ji, i would feel much better seeing those on you," you refuted. it was true. you felt at peace knowing at least your girlfriend's precious joints were protected if not anything else.

she sighed out annoyedly, but ultimately complied to your requests only because she didn't want you to worry about her.

"thank you, my love," you said in satisfaction. you then reached into the cart of volleyballs behind you as jihyo slipped her shoes back on, squeezing a few to determine which one had enough air in it. grabbing the one you felt was best, you warmed up your wrist a bit by dropping the ball in front of you and striking it straight down, catching it once it came back up a couple times.

"okay, so first things first. you're gonna learn how to serve the ball," you said, leading her to the middle of the court facing the net. "the goal is to hit the ball over the net and onto the opponent's side of the court so that they can receive it and keep it in motion," you softly explained, repositioning her arms and legs into the perfect position for a proper serve.

jihyo picked up the skill quickly as you explained each step to her in full detail, making sure to critique her mistakes and show her the better way of executing her moves. within about 15 minutes of the first lesson, your girlfriend was already on her way to becoming the next star player for your team.

once she got at least 3 serves over the net, you decided she was ready to move onto the next step; receiving the ball. you showed her the proper way to hold her arms together and how to position herself under the ball to pass it to a teammate in front of her. you could tell jihyo was a natural at the sport as she was with any other activity she's ever tried.

after about an hour or so, her form was starting to get smoother and her reaction times were getting faster. but your energy needed replenishing and so did hers.

taking a short break together on the bleachers, you both had a water bottle in hand and shared the protein bar that jihyo had prepared earlier.

"do you wanna try peppering with me? i think you could be pretty good at it at this rate," you asked, sensing the way she was getting antsy to move onto something more advanced.

jihyo had no idea what exactly it was that you were asking her about, but she was eager to try it anyways. you put it in simple terms for her, explaining that it was a back and forth process of hitting and receiving the ball to each other. and just like that, hearing that she would be able to play against you in a way got jihyo excited again, the adrenaline giving her more energy than that protein bar ever did.

"okay! let's do it! come on!" jihyo exclaimed, throwing her bottle to the side and skipping back to the court while grabbing the ball. you smiled at how endearing she was and followed her soon enough, joining her across the same side of the court.

after another hour and a half of you two going at it, jihyo was seriously improving with the minimal coaching she had from you. it was honestly impressive how quickly she adapted to the flow of the game, but you expected nothing less of her.

deciding it was alright to push her a little further since she had all the protective gear in the world on, you picked up your pace a bit and spiked the ball harder, giving her less time to react and training her reflexes. obviously, jihyo played along effortlessly, getting herself hyped up by her newfound skill at volleyball. you could hear her cheer for herself everytime she successfully received the ball and sent it back in your direction.

but what you soon failed to realize was that the once amateur jihyo you knew 3 hours ago was gone. her alter ego had now taken over and fueled her with that insane ambition she had hidden away. as your eyes were too focused on watching her in case she fell, you completely failed to see the flying ball coming at your face at the speed of light.

bam.

you don't really remember what happened next, but it seemed like everything was happening in slow motion. the world faded into a quick darkness as you felt something pushing against your face. that's when reality hit. or better yet, that's when you were hit.

jihyo had gotten carried away with her strength and sent the ball directly towards your lovely face with a perfectly executed spike. not knowing she was capable of that, she screamed out in pure terror when she saw your body fall backwards onto the shiny hardwood floor.

"holy shit! y/n!! oh my god, oh my god!? are you okay??!" she panicked, sprinting over to your side and crouching down to lay you onto her lap.

you could only croak out in pain and kept your eyes sealed shut as the bright fluorescent lights above you were too intense to take in at the moment.

jihyo repeatedly muttered out small apologies and cradled you as she looked over your face to see a big red spot that she left across one side.

"y/n, please.. i'm so sorry baby, please talk to me. do you know who i am?! how many fingers am i holding up?? what's your name? how old are you!" jihyo cried in distress. she cupped your cheek and gently tapped it with her thumb to try and get you alert and awake again.

slowly opening your eyes at the feeling of her soft touch, you blinked your eyes slowly as you adjusted to the bright lights, making out the faint figure of your girlfriend in front of you. "i'm fine, ji, don't worry," you whispered in between groans. you reached a hand up to your forehead, feeling the tenderness as you ran your fingers over the surface. wincing slightly, you regained enough composure to inch your way up off of jihyo's lap, her arms coming behind your back to support your body.

"is there anything i can get you? maybe an ice pack or something?" jihyo said meekly. you could tell even through your disoriented state that she was feeling guilty. before you could even think of an answer, you could only bring yourself to thoughts of hurrying up and recovering so you could show her that it’s okay.

"uhh, yeah. yeah, there should be a um- gel pack in the freezer in the uh.. coach's room across the field," you stammered, squinting your eyes closed when the lights became too much again.

with no hesitation, jihyo got up and ran towards the door to follow your directions as you told her where to get the ice pack.

"you stay right there, okay? don't move," jihyo demanded. you could only nod your head weakly, shifting yourself to slowly lay back down on the cold tile beneath you. the sound of the metal door closing behind jihyo reverberated throughout the open space.

the pain across your face was getting worse as time went by, the throbbing you felt on your eyebrow in sync with your heartbeat.

as your mind started to process what just happened, your brain began to flash images of the ball smashing your face in repeatedly, making you cringe at how dumb you probably looked. with your knees propped up and your feet on the ground, you held your hands to your face and rapidly kicked the floor in a temper tantrum, simultaneously wailing at the replaying moment in your head.

you silently cursed yourself out for allowing yourself to be so careless and possibly giving your girlfriend the ick by seeing you get your face contorted with the sheer force of impact.

shooting your body upright, you slid backwards on your hands towards the wall, leaning against it and rummaging through your bag to find your phone. after you found it, you quickly switched to the camera app to check the damage, already sensing how big the knot on your forehead was going to get in the next hour. sure enough, the large red and tender spot on the left side of your face was growing a lump. being in pure disbelief, you moved the camera further away to get your full face in frame, staring at yourself in shame and embarrassment. after a couple more seconds of examining yourself, you could only conjure up a scoff and put your phone down as soon as you heard the door open loudly again.

jihyo, who came in sprinting to your aid with an ice cold gel pack, was leaving a trail of condensation behind her as it was thawing in her hands. once again, you could only think about how dangerous it would be if she were to slip and fall on the water, but the continually throbbing pain on your face was making it difficult for you to speak up and scold her to be careful.

"here, put this on it for now. it should help the swelling go down," jihyo panted, clearly out of breath from running around outside trying to find the coach's office while being worried sick about you at the same time. she ran her thumb over the small bump forming on your eyebrow and cooed at how much pain you must've been in.

she gently pressed the ice pack to your forehead and kept whispering small apologies, her pretty face scrunched into the cutest concerned look you've ever seen. you weren't usually the type of person to like being taken care of like that, but seeing jihyo like this only made you want to get hurt again just to see that look on her face. but looking down slightly at her arms, you couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous she looked with those makeshift elbow pads she still had on.

"what's so funny? do you really think you should be laughing right now?" jihyo reprimanded.

you almost cackled in her face at her sternness, but quickly stopped and winced in pain instead when the pain in your face prevented you from forming a real smile.

jihyo tsked at you and told you to shut up, adjusting the ice pack to cover more area on your skin. "stop moving, would you?" you cleared your throat, "sorry it's just- you look crazy with those elbow pads on," you said, stifling a laugh. suddenly a slap landed on your shoulder which you didn't see coming since jihyo had both of your eyes covered with the ice pack. "don't be annoying right now, y/n. you were the one who made me wear them anyways.."

she took the ice pack off your face to quickly slide the stupid pads off her arms, which she struggled to do. you helped her wiggle them off and threw them to the side as she pressed the cold pack back to your skin again.

"alright, alright," you surrendered. "wait. isn’t it me who’s supposed to be the one mad at you right now? given that you were the one who hit me in the face in the first place.."

your girlfriend paused and rolled her eyes at your smart comment, "why don't you just shut up and hold that to your busted ass face, how about that?" she said sarcastically, grabbing your hand to take over holding the pack against your head.

jihyo was pretending that she was okay by making jokes and getting annoyed at you, but in reality, you knew that she was beating herself up inside with the guilt of getting too carried away and hurting you. she's always wished that her competitiveness wasn't so intense since it could result in someone getting hurt just like you did.

besides the point, jihyo helped you stand up and grabbed your things and hers, sneaking away your keys from your bag's outer pocket with her empty hand.

she linked arms with you while your other arm was stuck covering the left side of your face with the freezing cold pack of blue gel. "let's go home and get you fixed up," jihyo said, reassuring you that she would make you feel all better. "oh, and i'm driving us home," she added, clearly not leaving any room for an argument.

"what? no. i'll drive," you argued anyways.

"y/n are you insane? you can't even see out of one eye right now, angel. i'm driving." jihyo made sure to emphasize the last part to you, unbeknownst to you as she already had your keys in her pocket.

the both of you continued arguing the whole way to the car, jihyo ultimately winning as she managed to get you towards the passenger side. but in the middle of your bickering, a familiar voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

"oh! isn't that?-"

it was the same friend who you ditched earlier with the excuse that you were "too tired" to join her and your other friends in a scrimmage today.

"hi, stacy!" jihyo greeted, waving at your friend enthusiastically.

you hid your face away from stacy as you heard her voice get closer, already expecting her to tease you about your injury.

"hellooo, y/n! what are you guys doing here this late?" she asked innocently, inching her neck downwards to make eye contact with you since you had your head held down. "and- what happened to your face?"

you sighed, knowing there was no escape from this now. "oh i just.. i…" you stuttered, looking to jihyo for help.

she picked up your signal immediately, "oh! that? y/n just fell and hit her head, that's all," jihyo laughed awkwardly.

"uh huhh. so this is why you were 'too tired' to scrim with us tonight then, huh?" stacy asked sarcastically, getting uncomfortably closer to your face.

while snickering, you slapped the gel pack on stacy's face, causing her to wipe her face and gasp out in shock.

"shut up," you teased, playfully pushing your friend away.

after a few minutes of catching up, you three eventually said your goodbyes and waited to see stacy drive off before turning to open the car door.

"wait- what did she mean by you were 'too tired?'" jihyo asked, pulling you back by your arm.

"oh, yeah. i told the group earlier that i was gonna take the day off since i was tired. we were supposed to play a practice match against some teams today, but, i got to spend my time doing something better instead," you said, smiling down at her and admiring the way the moonlight reflected against her glassy eyes, moving a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead.

jihyo couldn't help but pull your face towards hers and smash your lips together, completely forgetting about the fact that your whole face was in the early process of bruising. your eyes widened and you moaned painfully against her lips, attempting to pull away from the grip she had on both of your cheeks.

luckily, she realized it and released you, apologizing hectically once again. "oh shit- oh my god i forgot! i'm sorry baby, you were too cute and i couldn't help myself," she explained.

"haven't you hurt me enough today??" you asked in an annoyed tone. you quickly regretted it though once you saw the pouty look on her face and the way she said she didn't mean to in that little whiny voice.

"i knowww, i know. i'm just teasing you, love," you reassured her, pulling her sweaty body in for another hug.

"you know, maybe you should wear the elbow pads next time. seems like you need them more than i do," jihyo mumbled against your chest.

her comment made you scoff incredulously, "i-" but before you could even formulate a comeback, she opened the car door and forced you into the seat, blocking out whatever you managed to say with ''lalala" and shushes instead.

as she closed the door on you and made her way over to the driver's seat, you sulked into the leather cushion and chuckled at the way the tables turned on you.

turns out you were the one needing the protecting that night.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Two

Summary: The morning after the disaster that was your engagement party has got your head pounding and you're not even sure what your next move is gonna be. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 5k~ Warnings: Explicit Language (maybe idk I can't remember lol) an argument and idk that's kinda it lol and ofc barely edited lmao a/n: I'm putting out part 2 early as a thank you for all the notes and just the over all interaction you all have given my blog and this story so thank you. I've barely written anything for part 3 so there's gonna be a bigger gap between uploads so forgive me but be sure to check out my other stories as well in the meantime 🥰 Requested by: @kkusadmirer 💜

Hearing the birds outside is the first thing that brings me out of the dream state I had been in. I open my eyes and scan my surroundings and notice that I'm still at Jungkook's house. "What happened last night?" I say aloud, rubbing my eyes and sitting up before laying back down, getting an instant head rush.

"Y/n?" I hear Jungkook from the other side of door. "Come in" I say before thinking twice, not remembering anything about what happened last night. "Good morning sunshine" he says quietly, walking in with a glass of water and pain killers and I sit up slowly as he comes closer.

"How did I end up in here?" I ask and wordlessly thank him and take it real quick and start chugging the water while waiting for his response. "I carried you" he replies leaving me choking at the image.

"You carried me in here?" I ask, embarrassed that he had to take care of me like that. "Yeah you pretty much passed out on me so I kinda had to" he laughs, rubbing my back hoping to help me stop coughing. "I'm sorry I kinda don't remember anything" I admit and I see his face fall a little leaving me panicking again.

"Did I do something stupid?" I cringe and he laughs at whatever memory he has leaving me even more nervous. "No don't worry you were just being cute" he teases and I let out a breath I had been holding, thankful I didn't make too much of a fool of myself, or at least by his standards.

"I'm sorry I guess I lost control a bit" I say, looking down at my hands, embarrassed that I had given him so much trouble to deal with. "You know you say sorry a lot for someone who doesn't really have anything to be sorry about" he say and I sigh, not believing his words but not having the energy or brain capacity to argue.

"Hey" he says, tilting my chin up to look at him, you're fine y/n don't worry. I'm just glad you let me be there for you. I couldn't let you leave in the state you were in so thank you for trusting me to take care of you" he says while rubbing his thumb up against my cheek and all I can do in response is blink, so caught off guard by the sudden skin ship.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, letting go of my chin and taking the water glass from my hand. "Yes and no. Honestly I feel like I'm gonna throw up" I admit without thinking twice. "I mean I-"

"It's okay, you really did drink a lot so I'm not surprised. Let me at least make you some soup so you have something in your system" he says and I nod which satisfies him. "I'll let you know when it's ready" he continues and I nod again, watching as he makes his way out.

I hold my head in my hands, begging for the medicine to kick in so this pounding in my head goes away.  Although I know though that the onset stress of not knowing what happened last night is the real cause of this headache. 'What happened last night?' I question myself silently this time, going through everything that happened yesterday but the part after me coming back inside the house after everyone left is still a little fuzzy.

I sit and think for a little while longer and before I know it Jungkook is knocking on the door again. "Foods ready" he says with a sweet smile making me forget how exactly I'm supposed to respond. "Is everything okay?" he asks, coming to sit on my side of the bed. "I just, I really don't remember what happened last night" I say and he nods and thinks for a second before responding.

"How about this, lets get some food in you first and get you feeling a bit better and then I'll tell you. Okay?" he offers, tilting his head at me and I nod after thinking for a second or two. "Great, now can you get out there on your own or do you think you need some help?" he asks and I quickly go to shut down his offer.

"No Jungkook that's okay I can manage" I say and throw the covers off of me and slowly get up off the bed and I hear him chuckle a bit. "What are you laughing at?" I ask, confused as to if he's making fun of me or not.

"No, no it's nothing. I'm just surprised you called me Jungkook on your own this time" he says as I start to stand and my heart rate picks up, not even realizing I had done that. "Well you wanted me to call you that right?" I ask shyly, but I lose my footing when I stand up, still a bit weak to my dismay but before I have a chance to fall Jungkook catches me and pulls me onto his lap.

"I-" I start but am caught off by the proximity and the memories of last night start to flood my brain and I rest my head on his shoulder just like I did before I passed out.

I groan and he laughs at my reaction, "It all coming back to you isn't it?" he asks and I nod, not daring to make eye contact with him. "I can't believe I asked you to do that. I'm sorry" I say and try to get off his lap but he pull me back on it with his hands that are firmly placed on my hips.

"Hey, you didn't do anything wrong" he says, brushing the hair that had fallen on my face out of the way. If I couldn't breathe before I definitely can't breathe now, especially since I catch him looking down at my lips before quickly flipping them back to my eyes.

"Okay" is all I can manage to choke out and before he's able to do anything else I quickly get up off his lap and walk out of the room, needing to break the tension that had started to build between us.

'What the fuck am I doing? Kissing my best friend...well ex best friend's dad? Like what the fuck is wrong with me?' I walk into the bathroom in the hallway to get an extra five minutes alone so I can try to stop my heart from racing. Who would've thought that in less than twenty four hours I would have a mental breakdown not once, but twice in this same bathroom. 'Why does this shit always have to happen to me?'

After taking a few more breaths and washing my face I walk into the kitchen where I see Jungkook enjoying his morning cup of coffee, or should I say afternoon cup of coffee as I check the clock seeing it's already past two.

"Did I really sleep this late?" I ask, cringing at the thought of yet again inconveniencing him. "Yeah but don't worry I was planning on having a lazy day anyways" he says, reading my mind and motioning for me to sit down at one of the stools on the island he has in his kitchen.

He turns his back to me and starts preparing me a bowl of soup but I can help but check him out, his strong broad shoulders that lead down to his small waist and accompanied by his ass and thick thighs I could just-

"Here you go" he say, placing the bowl in front of me and I quickly bring my eyes to the food he's given me. It smells strangely like home, almost as if my mom had made it for me when I had been sick as a kid. "Thank you" I say quietly and take a bite, moaning at the warm and rich flavor that hits my tongue without even realizing what I'd done.

"That good huh?" he asks while leaning back on one of the counters with his arms crossed over his chest. "Oh- um, yeah. Yes, thank you" I say, quickly tripping over my words but he just smiles before taking another sip of coffee and I quickly go back to eating my soup. This time quietly.

"So what are you planning on doing?" he asks casually after I've finished eating, as if I know what he's talking about. "What do you mean?" I question after taking a drink of water, him having refused to give me a cup of coffee until I had at least drank two cups of water.

"You live with my daughter right?" he questions and my whole mood turns upside down. He takes notice of it and quickly back pedals, "I guess I should've waited for you to wake up a bit more before asking you that" he says, now offering me an apology cup of coffee.

"No it's okay you're right. I probably should figure out what I'm gonna do. To be honest I think I'll move out. Just because being in the same space that I used to spend time with them in just sounds like I'm setting myself up for heartbreak" and he nods at my reasoning but I decide to continue anyways, verbally processing it all.

"If I stay there I'll be reminded of all the good times we had and the many memories we made together and I don't want to be haunted by those images. Plus a fresh start sounds perfect to me" I say and he continues while adding the perfect amount of milk and sugar to my coffee, weirdly.

"So are you just going to stay there until you find a place?" he asks and I think about how awkward it's going to be just working around her until I find that perfect place. "I was thinking I could probably ask my sister if I could crash at her place for a bit" I say thinking of the first solution that comes to mind.

"But doesn't your sister live on the opposite side of the city from your internship?" he questions and I slump at that realization. "You're right. I guess I'll just have to wake up a bit earlier" I say, trying to figure out how to remedy this problem full well knowing it's been hard enough for me to wake up and get there on time even though I only lived ten minutes away.

"Why don't you stay here?" he offers and my whole body straightens up instantly, "You would let me stay here?" I ask, my eyebrows raised as high as they possibly could, surprised that he would even offer something like that and he nods in response.

"You would let me stay here?" I question again, clarifying if I heard him right. "Yeah why not? I've got plenty of space and it's not like we're strangers or anything. Plus your internship is only about ten minutes further from here than where you live now" he says, making good points as to why I should take him up on the offer.

"I couldn't possibly do that to you. I mean I wouldn't want to disturb your life like that. But thank you!" I say, shutting down the idea right away but he persists nonetheless.

"Again, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to. You're more than welcome to stay here and you can even move upstairs into one of the bigger bedrooms. Plus I have a storage unit that I haven't really used so you can store any big pieces of furniture you might have" he continues, trying to convince me even more and when he sees that I am about to refuse again he comes up with a compromise.

"Stay one more night. Tomorrow's Sunday right? That way you won't have to worry about work or anything like that so we can just relax and talk about things over today and tomorrow and then you can decide what you'd like to do" he says and it gets me to think about it for a second which makes him hopeful and ultimately I end up accepting.

"I guess I could stay one more night" I say and he gives me a half smile which some how makes me more nervous than a full one and so I take the first sip of my coffee that has honestly gone cold by now.

"Perfect. Did you want me to go take you to your place to pick up some clothes that you might need?" he questions, jumping at the opportunity to be helpful. "No that's okay. I drove here so I have my car out front" I say, shutting his next offer down but he make another good point that has me second guessing myself.

"Are you sure you want to drive when you're hungover? I don't think I can let you do that" he says, falling into a protective mode which is endearing but I don't think I could take advantage of him like that since he's already done so much for me. "I'll be fine Jungkook don't worry" I say and he nods his head respecting my choice and I let out a breath, happy that I don't have to fight him on this one too.

"Okay, did you want to borrow some more of my clothes so you can shower before you go?" he questions and I smile awkwardly, happy that he offered but guilty that he yet again is helping me out.

"I'll be back in a sec" he chuckles and walks past me, placing a hand on my back as he passes by which makes me sit up straight at the feeling and I watch him as he jogs upstairs to go retrieve said clothes.

He comes down seconds later with the clothes, a towel and even a toothbrush in hand. "Thought you might want one of these too" he says and I accept it all sheepishly before excusing myself and making my way into the bathroom.

How am I even supposed to act in this kind of situation? Like my ex best friend's dad who I kissed last night while I was drunk is now offering to let me stay here so I can move out of the apartment I share with his toxic daughter that my boyfriend cheated on me with. Like this is just way too much weirdness for me.

I shake off those thoughts and get in the shower to quickly get rid of all of these roaming thoughts and just hope and pray that somehow things will work out and I can settle into a new normal with my own place as soon as possible but I guess that luck just isn't on my side these days...

~~~~

After getting out of the shower and getting dressed I dry my hair with the hair dryer I happened to find under the sink and try to make myself look as presentable as possible so when I go back home I don't look like the complete mess that I know I am on the inside.

There's no reason I should be showing any kind of weakness around Jina or Jared so I just need to get in and get out of there as fast as I can so I can avoid as much awkwardness as possible. Being hungover doesn't help this situation in the slightest so I just really hope that she's not even there.

Walking out of the bathroom I'm met with a freshly clean Jungkook, scrolling through his phone while sitting on the couch and he quickly turns his head once he notices I've finished up.

"You feeling okay" he asks, always concerned for my wellbeing and I guess I just need to chalk it up to the parent side of him. Maybe that's all this is? Maybe Jina hasn't really given him an opportunity to be her dad in a while so he's just seeing me as another daughter he wants to take care of. That makes a lot more sense so thinking about it now I think I can go into this with a lot clearer mindset than before.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better thankfully" I say and head to the guest room where I stayed last night. "If you wanna just throw all of that into the washing machine I'll get a load going later on" he calls after me and I simply do as he asks and then head back into said bedroom.

"Hey Jungkook have you seen my phone?" I question while throwing the blankets around, trying to figure out where I could've put it. "Yeah you left it out in the living room last night so I put it on the charger when I woke up. Here" he says and I jolt at the sound of his voice being in the room with me, full on expecting him to still be on the couch.

"Thank you" I say while holding my hand out to take it with the other one placed over my heart, trying to calm down after the shock of him getting here so quickly. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you" he chuckles and I wave off his apology, not seeing any need for it. "It's fine don't worry about it" I say and once I unlock it I see call after call after call after call from not only Jared but Jina, my mom and my sister, with just as many text messages to match.

"Looks like you're really popular today" he jokes, trying to make light of the situation. "Not for the right reasons" I mumble and lock my phone, not bothering to sift through the hundreds of notifications just yet.

"I've gotta head out and get a few things at the store so why don't you come with me? We can stop by your place to get your things and then this way you can help me pick out some groceries so we have stuff that you like as well" he says while grabbing his keys and instead of trying to refuse I simply nod and follow him outside.

We get in the car and drive silently to my place but once we get a bit closer I stop him. "Would you mind parking around the corner? It's just...well I don't want Jina to see you driving me around and make a big deal about it" he nods his head and without a fuss pulls into the coffee shop parking lot around the corner.

"Is this alright?" he questions and I nod and get out of the car. "Let me know if you need any help. She's my daughter so it's not like she would do anything drastic if I was around" he says, referring to her sometimes short temper. Plus with these added hormones there's no telling how she gonna be reacting to things now that everything is out in the open.

As I make my way to the apartment I check my phone to see if she's still sharing her location with me and thankfully she is and I see that she's still at work so hopefully if move fast enough I should be in and out before she comes home.

Walking into the apartment it looks as though she's started gathering her own stuff up in boxes, almost as if she's getting ready to move out. I appreciate the fact that since she fucked up that she automatically volunteered to move out but she's more than welcome to keep this place as far as I'm concerned.

I jog back into my room, reminding myself of the task at hand and I grab my duffle bag and start putting as many things as I think I'll need to get me through at least a few days in case anything happens. Better safe than sorry right?

My last stop is the bathroom where I pack up my shampoo and conditioner as well as my skincare products and throw it all into a plastic bag that I'm able to place easily on top of the rest of the items in the bag but before I'm even able to finish getting the rest of my toiletries together I'm greeted with the sound of Jina walking in.

"Y/n?" she calls out and I swear under my breath, trying to think of a way to make this whole situation as quick and painless as possible. "Y/n?" she says again, rounding the corner and finding me in the bathroom where I've started to pick up the pace and throw things in haphazardly wanting to get the fuck out already.

"What are you doing?" she questions me and I walk past her and back into my room and throw the bag in my duffle bag and zip everything up. "Please don't ignore me" she says in pretty much the most pitiful voice I've ever hear out of her and I scoff and roll my eyes. "You don't have the right to be acting like that. I'm moving out so don't bother moving out if you want the apartment" I say and throw on a baseball hat and walk out of my room and make a b line for the front door.

"Y/n please talk to me" she pleads and it's taking everything in me not to slap that 'poor me' attitude out of her. "You wanna talk? Let's speed this up for the both of us alright? You slept with my boyfriend behind my back, got pregnant and ruined my relationship and now I'm moving out. That pretty much covers everything if I'm not mistaken so let's just call this conversation over. I'll be back to pick up the rest of my shit later so don't touch anything" I say quickly without giving her a second to get a word in.

"When's later?" she asks and I roll my eyes at her pitiful excuse in trying to keep me here. "Whenever the hell I feel like it Jina. Sorry I can't make everything magically disappear right away" I say and turn to grab the handle but she just keeps going.

"Where are you staying?" she has the audacity to ask and I smile and shake my head at her stupidity. "Why would I ever tell you that? So you can come bother me with your lame excuses of apologizing. Or oh yeah even worse telling Jared where to find me so he can do the same thing. Why don't you guys do all of us a favor and stay the hell out of my life" I say and walk out the door, making sure to slam it right behind me.

While walking back to Jungkook's car I try my best to calm my breathing so I can hide what happened from him. There's no reason why he even needs to know that she showed up so might as well keep it to myself.

As I get closer to his car I watch as he looks up and sees me coming and gets out to grab my bag from me. "Is this everything you wanted?" he questions, taking it from me and placing it in the trunk. "Yep that's everything. Or at least enough to get me through the next few days" I say and get in the car with him following suit soon after.

"Are you okay?" he asks, concern now laced all over his expression. "I'm totally fine, why do you ask?" I question in the most awkward tone of voice I've ever heard come out of me. "Because you're shaking" he points out and grabs one of my hands, holding it between two of his.

"No it's okay I'm fine" I say, my voice now getting wobbly, matching the shakiness of my hands. "Something happened in there didn't it?" he asks and I shake my head but he raises a questioning brow at me which has me nodding a moment later, admitting to what happened. "Jina came home" I say and take a shaky breath in and out, trying to keep myself from crying.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he questions and I quickly shake my head and he nods his and lets go of my hand and turns to start the car and pull out of the parking lot but as soon as we're on the main road again he reaches out for one of my hands and holds onto it again, not letting go until we get to the store.

~~~~~

Grocery shopping with him feels weirdly domestic and felt as though we had done it dozens of times before, with both of our methods on how to shop quickly and efficiently matching up perfectly and so time flies and before I know it we're already putting the groceries away in his kitchen.

"We make a pretty good team huh?" he says and tossing me an apple and I catch it in time, further proving his point. "I guess we do" I say amusedly and take a big bite out of it. "No I'm serious! I swear whenever I go alone I always end up forgetting one of the most obvious ingredients and with your help I don't think I forgot a single thing" he says taking a bite of the apple he had gotten for himself.

"Well I'm glad to have been of some help. I feel bad since you've been doing nothing but taking care of me for the past twenty four hours and I haven't been able to give you anything in return" I admit, twisting the stem of until it pops off.

"You've given me plenty in return" he laughs off, as if I had said something ridiculous. "Oh yeah like what?" I ask, taking another bite of the apple and leaning back against the counter.

"You've definitely given me quite a few laughs today" he says and I scrunch my eyebrows together knowing that he's just making fun of me. "And you've definitely made my day a whole lot more interesting. Plus I learned some new things about you" he says and I gulp at that last part, knowing I've definitely overshared with him quiet a few times.

"Like how you prefer green apples over red. How you prefer white bread over wheat and that you get shy whenever I get close to you" he lists off, the last one obviously catching me off guard.

"I-" I start but I'm frozen in place as he gets closer to me and I just realized how I've backed myself into a corner. "Jungkook I-" I try again but my efforts die in my throat when he places his hands on either side of my hips, trapping me against the counter, staring at me as if he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"Do you wanna tell me why that is?" he asks, tilting his head almost taunting me. "I don't know what you're talking about" I say, doing my best to remain level headed. "You sure about that?" he asks and I nod my head in response, not trusting my voice to stay steady this time. "Then why are you holding your breath?" he says while placing his hand on my neck and using his thumb to press down on my chin, encouraging me to open my mouth which I do with almost no hesitation.

"I don't know" I whisper but he leans in closer, bringing his lips closer to mine. "I think you're lying" he say, his warm breath fanning my face, promises of pleasure hidden behind those words and it has me whimpering at the thought. 

"Y/n, earth to y/n" Jungkook says, bursting the bubble of the incredibly inappropriate daydream I had been having in front of him. "I-i'm sorry what was that?" I stutter, making it clear that I hadn't been paying attention. 

"Maybe you're running a fever" he says, walking over to me and placing the back of his hand to my forehead, his cool hand causing a shiver to run down my spine. "What makes you say that?" I ask, looking up at him, taking in his features from our closer proximity. "Because you're burning up, and your whole face has gone red" he says and I feel my cheeks getting even more red at his observation. 

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks, making purposeful eye contact with me. "Yeah I just, I think I need to go lay down for a while" I say, finding the easiest escape route possible. "That's probably a good idea. I shouldn't have kept you out for so long" he says, guilt clouding his expression and I take one of his hands in mine without giving it a second thought making him jolt for a second but tighten his hold around mine just seconds later. 

"I'm fine don't worry" I say with a small smile, "It was my fault for drinking so much. If I'm ever around you again and there's alcohol involved could you do me a favor and stop me from drinking so much" I laugh, trying to lift his spirits and it seems to do the trick. 

"Of course darling" he says and places a kiss on the center of my forehead. "Now go lay down, you really are burning up" he says, having felt the heat radiating off of me from the kiss he had graced me with. I smile up at him and nod my head before turning around and heading back to my room. 

Living with him might not be so bad. It's been a while since someone's taken care of me or even shown me such simple kindness without needing anything in return. I'm not sure if it would be the smartest decision but I'm definitely warming up to the idea...

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[haztobegood]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

(I think I'm supposed to send this anon but then I might not catch your answers so I didn't lol)

Thank you so much for sending this along! Here are 5 fics +1 drabble that I really love at the moment

✶ We're Getting Better With Time (5k, T, Harry/Louis)

Hello Harry, this may seem out of the blue, and even weirder if you don’t remember me. We hung out for a few weeks back in the summer of 82. A picture of you showed up on my facebook tonight, I think because we have a few mutual friends on here. I know we haven’t spoken in forty years, but I thought I’d just shoot you a message. I hope you’re doing well. L Or, the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.

✶ Love and Other Antidotes (16k, E, Harry/Louis)

Arrogant pop star Harry Styles is transformed into a cow by his bandmate Amy Z after a heated argument. Left in the back of a truck, Harry finds himself at a rural farm hours away from his band. Harry has three days to make it back to London and turn back into a human before his next show. His only chance to reclaim his glamorous life rests with a kind farmer named Louis. They must work together to find the antidote before Amy Z finishes him off and takes over the band.

✶ Now All The Clouds Been Lifted (6k, T, Niall/Greg James)

Niall Storm, certified meteorologist by day. Niall Horan, lonely alpha by night. When a new midday news anchor gets hired at the station, Niall finds he can't look away from the beta. If he dares to take a chance, his attraction just might precipitate into a crazy little thing called love.

✶ Close Our Eyes (Pretend We're Miles Away) (5k, E, Girl!Harry/Girl!Louis)

Louis and Harry have been on the run for a day and a half now. It’s a hard situation to be in, and they’ve been trying to cope the best they can since their relaxing girls’ weekend at a rented cabin turned into a living nightmare. Just forty eight hours ago, Harry never would have robbed a bank. Hell, she barely would have touched the gun she’d used in the robbery, let alone wave it around to threaten anyone. Forty eight hours ago, Louis hadn’t used that same gun to shoot a man.

✶ It's All Come and Go (3k, E, Louis/Orville Peck)

“Truck stops are like the original Grindr.” - Orville Peck, Coachella 2022

+ 1 drabble

✶ Chaos (100, E, Louis/Bodyguard)

Against the barricade, it’s complete chaos.

[thelibrarybat]

Fic authors self-rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! <3<3

Thank you, anon! 🖤

As of writing this, my Ao3 contains six (6) fics, so there's not an enormous number to choose from. But let's tier-rank them anyway.

Break Me Like A Pattern (The Magnus Archives, 215k)

This fic (if you haven't read it, though I feel like a solid 60% of my tumblr followers found me through it lol) is a canon-divergent AU where Michael Shelley ends up as the Archivist.

I had to choose BMLAP as my favourite of my fics, because I spent two years writing it and I'm very proud to have made it to the end. This thing started as a few loose kernels of daydream and now it's a behemoth with 40 5k chapters. (I'm currently working on its sequel, Burn Me Like a Page, but as I'm still in the throes of writing that, it's decidedly not my favourite at the moment.)

2. Not Her (The Magnus Archives, 55k)

My first longfic for The Magnus Archives, focusing on the dynamic that might have existed between Sasha and Michael in S1. I wrote this in 2020 when the pandemic was at peak awful and I was in the second year of my degree. It's not my best work on a technical level, but I'm still quite happy with it.

3. Arsenic Waltz (The Renfield Movie (2023), 1.5k)

This is only a short vignette, but I'm still really pleased with how it came out. I wrote it in one night, while Renfield was still showing in cinemas, after going to see it three times that month.

4. Severed Hand (The Magnus Archives, 3k)

This one shows up on Ao3 as the first work I wrote for TMA because it's the first work I finished, but I actually started it after Not Her. I wrote it after reading quite a lot of Michael Lives AU fics because I wanted to try my hand.

5. ...a secret, for now. (I have a oneshot in the works that I'm very excited to complete.)

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 4: Sacrilege

Contents | Part 3 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Fem Reader) One-on-one time with the priest comes with its perks, some you weren't fully prepared for.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, adult & sexual themes, smoking (cigarettes), discussions of death, grief, religion and strained familial relationships. Readers must be 18+

Disclaimer: In this chapter, F. Benedict makes reference to a brother. I just want to stress that this is 100% my own fictional narrative and in no way based on/referencing the real life sister of BC.

Finally, sorry to anyone named Soleil - I actually really like that name, Ellis, however, does not lol.

"Posture." 

You peeled your eyes away from the computer screen to find Dawn, the studio receptionist, in the doorway of your office. She nodded her head towards you, raising an eyebrow in silent demand as she crossed her arms, waiting. You rolled your eyes and slowly began to sit up properly in your chair, feeling the curve of your spine straightening out, an ache at the base of your neck as your shoulders realigned. 

"That's better," she said, the same way a mother would commend a child. "There's a woman at reception asking for you." 

"Oh?" you replied with a furrowed brow. "Okay, I'll just be a second." 

She nodded and disappeared from the doorway as you returned your attention to the photo you were editing; a tiny baby curled up on a cloud, its bald head adorned with a fluffy white halo. You saved your progress and switched off the screen, thankful for the break. 

You made your way through the building to reception, pushing through a large set of double doors into the bright, welcoming foyer.

"Mara?" you asked, taking a few steps towards the front desk.

The woman standing there turned around, brushing her hair back to reveal a face you knew, a set of eyes you'd both inherited. 

"Hi," she said, her voice breathless and agitated as she struggled to hold a fidgeting baby in one arm. "I've got a session booked and you said I could use your discount. I told them I'm your sister but they need approval from you to put it through." 

"Oh, right, yeah." You turned to Dawn as she sat at the computer behind the front desk. "Can you-"

"Already doing it," she replied, typing and clicking with her long nails.

"Thanks." 

"Thanks," Mara echoed before turning around and walking away. 

You watched her for a moment, realising she had no intentions of sharing any more words with you. 

"Hey, so how are... How have you been doing?" you asked awkwardly as you followed her over to the waiting area.

She sat down, laying the baby back in her pram and beginning to roll it back and forth. "Yeah, okay," she replied with a shrug. "Soleil's been colicky so..." 

Soleil. Jesus Christ. Nine months of pregnancy and a torn vagina just to call your baby fucking Soleil. 

There was a long silence as you stood in front of her, hands behind your back, lips pressed together. She was nine years older than you, but you might as well have been born centuries apart, as good as strangers if it wasn't for the unmistakeable resemblance. She insisted she loved you, but she was better at doing so from a distance; in a way that made your differences easier to ignore. 

You gestured to the baby. "Is... she sleeping better?"

"A little. She still wakes through the night but she's eight weeks old, it's to be expected." 

You nodded. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch much, I just thought you'd probably want your space with... Soleil." You gritted your back teeth, forcing the name out. "And after what happened at Christmas, I didn't want to..."

"Yeah, well I haven't been in touch either so don't worry about it." 

There was another long silence, the kind of silence that seemed to expand, consuming everything, begging to be filled. 

She was the first to give in to it, letting out a quiet sigh. "Will you be editing Soleil's photos?"

"I don't know. They assign them randomly, but if her files end up at my desk then yeah." You paused. "I can try and see if they'll make sure her pictures come to me-"

"No, no it's fine. I was just wondering." 

"Oh okay." You glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Well I better get going anyway, I'm going to miss my train."

"Now?" she looked at the clock too. "Where are you going?" 

"Yeah I'm finishing early. Meeting a friend." 

"Gina?"

You shook your head. "A new friend," you said as you began to walk away, before stopping and turning back towards her, like you couldn't help yourself. "He's a priest."

"Piss off."

"No, really."

"Why on earth are you leaving work early to spend time with-" she stopped suddenly, letting out a disappointed huff. "Oh, Ellis."

"What?"

"Of all people, a priest, really?"

Your brows scrunched together. "I'm n- I'm not... Mara, I have a boyfriend-"

"Mm, doesn't seem to stop anyone nowadays." She sat back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. 

You rolled your eyes. "I have to go. Enjoy your shoot." 

You were expecting the scent of baking bread. Cookies perhaps, maybe even coffee. But instead, the shop smelled like fresh paint, sawdust and window cleaner. You didn't mind it, actually, finding it oddly pleasant, like when you were a child and you would hang your head out of the window of your father's car, inhaling the smell of fuel as he filled up at the petrol station. 

There was a healthy crowd inside; a long queue at the shiny new counter, people sitting at spotless tables in kitschy, pastel coloured chairs. You looked around in search of Father Benedict, wondering if you'd somehow managed to beat him there. You hoped not. 

"Ellis!" his voice called over the crowd. 

You glanced around, trying to decipher where it was coming from when you finally saw him. He was sat at a small table, tucked away in the corner beside the window. You hurried over and sat down, gesturing to a cup of coffee on the table. 

"Is this for me?" 

"Yeah, it's just a cappuccino, I hope that's alright." 

"It's fine, thank you." 

You lifted the large, round cup to your lips, sipping on it politely as you eyed him over the rim. He was leaning back in his chair, hands resting gently on his thighs as he peered over at the bustling queue, providing you the perfect view of his neck, his jawline, how it tensed and softened as he moved. 

He was wearing jeans and a grey jumper, the cabled wool clinging like armour to his body, sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal his forearms. You'd never found yourself attracted to someone's arms before you met him. It seemed strange, to find limbs sexy. But it was the thoughts they elicited; how you could picture them holding you so firmly. 

"It's a lot busier than I thought it would be," he said before turning his attention back to you. "Now it looks like I lied just to get you to come." 

"Mm." You placed the cup down. "If you were that desperate to spend time with me, Father, all you had to do was ask." 

There was a moment before he laughed, a split second where you could have sworn you saw his gaze turn dark, a primal look in his eyes. But it was fleeting, so evanescent you doubted if you'd seen anything at all.

"Maybe next time I'll suggest somewhere a bit closer to home," he said, still smiling as he took a sip of his own coffee. "And please don't feel like you have to call me Father today, This is... we're just- we're here as friends, so..."

"Thank you, but I'm not sure my brain would even allow me to call you Benedict. Feels... sacrilegious." 

He smirked, looking around for a moment before leaning in and lowering his voice. "What feels sacrilegious is strangers with no idea I'm a priest overhearing the woman I'm with calling me Father." 

"Oh you're fine. It'd be a different story if I started calling you Daddy." 

He dropped his head and breathed out a stunned laugh. You cocked your head to get a glimpse of his face, assessing his bashful, flustered reaction with an intrigued smile.

"So the clergyman knows what that means," you said, propping your chin on your hand, elbow resting on the table. "Interesting..." 

"Of course I know what it means; I live in a rectory, not under a rock." 

You raised an eyebrow, bringing the cup back to your lips. "Ah, so you get full internet access then?" 

He paused, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what you meant. Then it clicked, and you watched as he fought another smirk. 

"Priests aren't allowed to do... that," he said simply, his voice dark, low. 

"Which bit? The watching or the taking part?" 

"Any of it." 

"Not at all?" you asked, lip curling in disbelief. 

He laughed quietly. "Not supposed to. I don't." 

"Never?" 

"Well of course I've- You know there was a time before I took my vows...?" 

"So you went from being... active, in that way, to now just not even thinking about it? At all?"

"I think about it constantly," he replied bluntly. "But that's part of this whole gig, isn't it; resisting, choosing to remain faithful to God, not giving in to temptation. It's literally in the Lord's Prayer - 'and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.'" 

"Sex is far from evil, it's fucking amazing." 

"Not the sex you're having by the sounds of it." 

Your mouth fell open with a scoffing laugh. "Touché." 

He chuckled into his coffee. "Sorry, that was a low blow. You confided in me, I shouldn't use it against you."

"No, it was funny. You said yourself, we're just friends today." 

He smiled, leaning back and crossing his arms comfortably over his chest, looking out the window at the busy high street. 

"Oh, speaking of," he said. "Did you get a chance to look at the bible passages I annotated for you? I thought they might help with your... situation." 

"Friends today," you repeated, pressing your mouth into an unamused smile. 

"Right, sorry." 

The truth was that you had looked at the passages. You'd taken the bible home, its pages adorned with small post-it notes of his analysis and interpretation, advice on how to implement the teachings into your life. 

You'd lay down on your bed and began reading them, but somewhere down the line, musing over his writing turned into musing over him. And before you knew it, the book was closed beside you, your hand slipping down the front of your trousers as you pictured his fingers there instead of your own.

"Thank you so much for coming!" a voice appeared beside your table. 

You looked up to see a woman smiling down at you both, an apron tied around her waist, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. You assumed it was Catherine, her sweet, soft voice a perfect fit for the cutesie decor. 

"I can't believe you came," she said to Father Benedict. "I really thought reaching out to you would be a shot in the dark." 

"Of course I came," he replied as he gestured to you. "And I brought reinforcements. Though clearly it wasn't needed; this place is booming." 

"Ah well, we have a really great community here. And a lot of gluten free people, apparently." 

They both laughed as you sat there awkwardly, suddenly forgetting how to act like a real person. 

"I have to tell you it's wonderful to see you," she continued. "The parish has been a shambles since you left."

"Oh, stop, don't be silly." He waved his hand shyly. 

"No really! Father Martin's great but he's a bit of a stickler, y'know. Not as approachable as you were." 

Approachable or fuckable, Catherine? Be honest. 

"Oh well that's very kind," he said as you caught his eye, making him shake his head apologetically. "Oh, sorry, Catherine, this is Ellis. She's an aspiring member of my new parish." 

"Hi, nice to meet you," she said with a smile, before leaning in towards you. "Aspiring member or just another sucker for this one's charming smile?" 

She nudged him jokingly with her elbow and you gave a weak, unconvincing laugh. 

Fuckable. She definitely meant fuckable. 

"Anyway," she said, turning her attention back to him. "There's a few people from choir over here if you want to say hi?" 

"Oh, yes, absolutely!" 

You watched as he rose from his chair and shuffled out from behind the table. 

"I'll just be a second," he said, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You almost melted at his touch, immediately feeling ridiculous for it. It was a pat, a quick, reassuring squeeze, and yet the contact was enough to make you blush, having to hide your face behind another sip from your giant cup. 

You watched from across the shop as he stood talking to a group of people, finding yourself zoning in on the way he interacted with Catherine. She seemed sweet, friendly and naturally tactile, like she was unable to talk without touching him. 

You began to wonder if she was the temptation, if she was the thing that made him question his faith. You wondered if he'd found himself fantasising about her the way you did about him, if he'd left this parish because he could no longer bear the weight of his own desire. 

By the time he returned to your table, you'd finished your coffee, staring down at the remnants of foam and speckles of cocoa powder at the bottom of the cup like you were reading your tea leaves. 

He sat down, placing a pastel pink box on the table between you. "Sorry about that," he said. "Got you some pastries to make up for it." 

"Really?" 

"No."

"Oh."

"Catherine gave them to me. I offered to pay but she said they were on the house; a 'thank you' for coming." 

"Wow, business must be doing well if she's giving away free stuff on the first day." 

He laughed. "I literally just said the exact same thing, word for word-"

"So how do you know her?" 

He paused, taking a moment to register your interruption. "Hm? Oh, she's involved in the church here."

"And I take it you were close?" 

"Erm, well she was a 'regular', if you will; got pretty involved in all the..." he trailed off, narrowing his eyes at you with a slight smile. "Are you jealous?" 

"Jealous of what? The fact that I'm not the first weird woman you've met in a church?" 

"Oh, you're definitely the first weird woman I've met in a-" 

You kicked him gently under the table and a laugh resonated in his throat. It was deep, warm, the kind of sound that elicited tingles, raised the hairs on your arms. If this was his voice in the middle of a busy bakery, you thought, then you could only begin to imagine the sounds he was capable of behind closed doors. 

He scrunched his nose and looked out the window, then back to you. "Fancy stepping outside with me for a second?" 

"What for?" you asked as you felt your heart flutter with nerves, like your body was making assumptions before your brain had even processed his question.

"I could do with a cig," he replied quietly. "Disgusting habit, I know, but-"

"No, it's- Yeah, I'll come." 

You followed him outside, hugging your coat closed to shield yourself from the wind. He slipped down a side street next to the bakery, leaning against the wall and placing a cigarette between his teeth. You watched as he snipped his lighter over and over again, the wind snuffing out the flame each time.

"F'cking hell," he growled, cigarette still in his mouth. "Sorry, shouldn't have said that." 

You exhaled a soft laugh and reached into your pocket. "Would this work any better?" 

He glanced down at the heavy zippo lighter in your hand. 

"I got it for you," you said. "The 'G' stands for 'God'."

He took the cigarette between two fingers and moved it from his mouth, looking down at you in bewilderment. "Are you fucking with me?" 

"Of course I am." 

He rolled his eyes and took it from you. "See, I still can't tell when you're joking," he said, successfully lighting up and tilting his head back to blow out a long plume of smoke. 

"It's my friend's," you said. "She keeps leaving things in my coat." 

"My brother used to do that. Not with my coat, with my car." He laughed, still staring up at the sky as he took another drag. "I'd get in it and his music would start playing, the seat'd be moved forward, stuff all over the passenger seat. He was borrowing my car without asking but not bothering to cover his tracks. Probably because he knew I could never be mad at him for more than five minutes." 

"You have a brother?" 

"Mm." He fell quiet for a moment, a contemplative look on his face, before snapping out of it and smiling at you. "He was quite... troubled, then towards the end he found God. Which is what made me start connecting with my own faith after he-" Another pause, followed by a gentle laugh. "I was so anti-religion back then, if he could see me now, a bloody priest, he'd lose his mind."

You forced a smile, trying to disguise your discomfort as you pressed your mouth closed, teeth digging into the backs of your lips. "So... we're both part of the Dead Brother Club then." 

You grimaced to yourself immediately and looked away, anywhere except directly at him. The Dead Brother Club? Really, Ellis? But like always, he seemed happy to take you in his stride, understanding your intentions without making you explain. 

"I prefer the Surviving Siblings Society," he said dryly, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile.

"I'm sorry," you began, pausing to clear your throat. "I say things I shouldn't when I'm- Well I'm just not good with knowing what to say or do when people... divulge their... I'm not a very comforting person." 

"That's alright. Because I, on the other hand, like to think I'm a very comforting person. So I can comfort us both." 

"I don't really think I need to be comforted." 

"Then what do you need?"

You. 

"Nothing."

"Everyone needs something." 

You were holding your breath as your gaze held his, and despite the cold weather, the air between you suddenly felt warm and heavy. But you weren't sure why, unable to decipher the look on his face and reluctant to mistake it for something it wasn't. Again. So instead you remained quiet, waiting. 

He took a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the brick wall behind him. "Shall we go somewhere?" 

"Where?" 

"I want to show you something." 

He made his way back around the corner onto the main high street. But instead of going back inside the bakery, he walked straight past it. You began to follow but stopped for a moment near the window, glancing inside at the table you'd been sitting at, the box of untouched pastries he'd left behind.

You were convinced that once you'd seen one church, you'd seen them all. The greys and browns, stone and wood, old carpets and tall, vaulted ceilings. They all smelled the same too, echoed the same, filtered in the sunlight through multicoloured glass. 

When Father Benedict walked you inside, you felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, the urge to tell him just how similar it was to the church back home. But when you looked up at him and saw his smile, you refrained. 

He wandered around the chapel, his footsteps echoing, fingers grazing over the pews as he passed them. "This was my church," he said. "Before I took my sabbatical. I was the priest here." 

You looked around. "It's... Nice." 

"It's changed. Well, some things have changed - that's new." He pointed to an obnoxiously large statue of Jesus nailed to a cross, the thing crudely lying on its side waiting to be mounted on the wall. 

"Subtle," you said. "I like the artistic choice to lie him on the floor like that."

"Artistic choice," he scoffed out a laugh. 

"Yeah. Really makes you think." 

"About what?" 

"About why he didn't just stand up and run away if he was so close to the ground." 

"Fuck off-" He clamped a hand over his mouth and looked around to make sure no one else was there.

You bit your lip to suppress a laugh, but still it tumbled out of you in a mischievous giggle. 

He took a few steps towards you, speaking slowly and quietly. "You, Ellis, are going to get me defrocked." 

"With any luck," you muttered under your breath as he walked away. 

"I heard that." 

Your heart stopped, your eyes snapping up to meet his as he glanced over his shoulder at you. 

"I... It was a joke." 

"I know," he said softly, simply, turning around and making his way up the steps to the altar. 

"So," you began with an awkward cough. "Saw my sister today for the first time since Christmas. Was just about as awkward as you can imagine."

"I take it there's been no improvement since you came to the grief support group?" 

"It's hard. It's like she knows that she's the one to blame for the tension between us and she feels guilty for it, but she doesn't know how to fix it." You wandered slowly up the aisle as you spoke. "Then every time she does start to soften towards me, I do something that pisses her off and we're right back to square one."

"That being Christmas."

"Yep."

"What did you do?"

"Sat in Cain's chair."

"Cain...?"

"Dead brother."

"Ah."

"It was mum's turn to host. She still lives in the house we grew up in, and she always leaves a chair open for Cain at the dining table so it feels like he's there with us or whatever. Anyway, we were sitting down for dinner, and I wasn't really paying attention and I accidentally sat in his chair instead of mine. Mara went mad."

"Could she not rationalise that it was a mistake?"

"Obviously not," you sat down on the bottom step leading up to the altar. "Cain was her best friend, favourite person in the world. I was just the annoying little 'oopsie' our parents had almost a decade after they said they were done having kids. Plus, she was probably a bit extra sensitive, what with all the hormones."

"Hormones?"

"She'd just given birth five days earlier, so..."

"Oh." His tone brightened as he continued to wander around. "So you have a niece? nephew?"

"Niece."

"What's her name?"

You turned your head to look at him, before returning your gaze to your lap. "I'd rather not say."

"Why? It's stupid isn't it."

"Maybe a little bit."

"Go on."

"No."

He began making his way towards you. "Go on." 

"No, honestly it's-"

"Just tell me," he laughed, plonking himself down right beside you.

"Soleil," you finally said, like his closeness made you weak, including your mouth. 

"I think that's pretty."

"Fuck off."

"I do! Makes me think of... sunshine, grace, warmth... It's better than Benedict."

You smiled at him. "What does my name make you think of?" 

His expression seemed to soften, his eyes flitting across your face for a moment. "It just makes me think of you." 

There was a long silence, the enormous space around you somehow feeling so small, so intimate. You broke eye contact first, looking around, as if making sure it was all still there.

"How long ago did you work here?" you asked. 

"I left last year."

"And how long were you... between places?" 

"A few months. Not that long." 

"What did you do? Y'know, while you were... away from it all." 

He took a deep breath, resting forearms on parted thighs. "I went home to my parents'. Stayed in my old childhood room. I helped my mother with the garden, cooked dinner with my father almost every evening, caught up with people I'd left behind when I chose this life." 

You were hanging on his every word, the way everyone always did during his sermons. 

"I read books and watched films and listened to music. I cried, I got drunk, I talked to God and I, I doubted if he was even there." 

"Did you sin?" you asked, almost whispering.

"Everyone sins," he replied with a shrug. "I just sinned two minutes ago when I said 'fuck' inside a church- Oh, there we go, just did it again." 

You smiled before leaning your body towards him. "I mean did you... sin. Like, sin sin. Proper sin.”

He eyed you curiously. "Why do you ask?" 

You paused. "I don't know. Maybe because... If I know a priest can commit sin and still consider himself good, I might be able to forgive myself too." 

"Forgive yourself for what?"  

"For sinning. Keep up, Father." 

He smiled, then swallowed, his jaw flexing as he was thinking. 

"I suppose it's subjective," he finally said. "The bible says if you repent, you can pretty much be forgiven for anything. But forgiving yourself, that's... different. I mean, it depends what you did; if I break commandment three then of course I can forgive myself. Six, on the other hand..." 

You stared at him blankly. 

"The ten commandments...?"

"Rings a bell." 

He dropped his head and laughed, before throwing it back and looking up at the ceiling. "Okay. One: You shall have no other Gods before me." 

"Self explanatory." 

"Yep. As is two:  Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven images. Don't worship false idols. Three: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. And four: Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy." 

"What's five?" 

You couldn't believe you were actually finding this interesting. But perhaps it wasn't the subject itself, but the way he spoke about it. How easily the knowledge poured off his tongue, how you were so close you could practically see the words coming up his throat. 

"Honour your father and mother." 

You rolled your eyes and blew a raspberry, making him chuckle. 

"Six is thou shalt not kill, and seven is-"

"Seven is...?" 

He cleared his throat, glancing at you, then down to his hands. "Seven is thou shalt not commit adultery." 

Suddenly, seven was your least favourite number; sharp and angular like a blade. The words hung in the air between you, and you could almost feel Alfie's lips on your skin, like a bruise, an entirely unwelcome souvenir. 

"Eight is thou shalt not steal," he continued. "Nine is thou shalt not bear false witness. Which just means don't lie." 

Now you hated the number nine too. 

"And finally ten: Thou Shalt Not Covet." 

"Covet like... want something?" 

"It's a little more specific than that. To covet means to desire something that belongs to someone else."

You bit the inside of your cheek before looking at him. "Does it count if the thing you desire... belongs to God?" 

He met your gaze, from the corner of his eye at first, before turning his head to face you properly. "You desire something that belongs to God?" 

You had never met anyone so all-consuming before, so utterly captivating that you could feel it in your bones. Drawing you to him. It was in the way he spoke to you, like he'd figured out exactly how you worked; cracked you open and found an instruction manual carved into the wrong side of your skin. You wanted to do that to him; to know him so well that he could feel you in his marrow. 

"Ellis," he said softly, snapping you out of your daze. "You have to stop looking at me like that." 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm not a priest. And like you don't have a boyfriend." 

The air seemed to evaporate from your chest, your mouth falling open slightly with a gentle gasp. "I- I didn't... I was- I'm sorry I- I didn't even realise I was- I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable-"

"You don't. It doesn't." He rose to his feet. "Therein lies the problem."

"Problem?" 

He turned to face you and began walking backwards down the aisle. "You came to me seeking salvation. That has to remain at the forefront." 

You stood up too and began to follow him. "As opposed to...?" 

He stopped when you caught up to him, causing you to bump into his chest. The last time you were face to face like this was at the boot of his car, when you could have sworn he was going to reach out and touch you, perhaps even lean in for a kiss. You'd been wrong then. But this time you weren't so sure. 

"As opposed to what, Father?" 

He inhaled slowly, looking down at you with heavy lids. "The Lord can be cruel, and it's not always clear why. Sometimes it's up to us to forgive him." 

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "What passage is that?" 

"That wasn't the bible, that was me."

"Oh." You shook your head. "Okay, well, what do you mean by that?" 

"I mean I think he sent you to me. God."

"Why?"

"Because of all the churches, you just had to walk into mine."

"Do you wish I hadn't?"

"I'm starting to."

You had never felt such a guttural urge to scream before, but when your phone began to ring in your pocket, it took all your might just to keep your mouth shut. You shoved your hand into your pocket and ripped out your phone, looking down at the screen, then back up to him. 

"It's my sister," you breathed. "I- I can't ignore this, she never calls..."

He held his hands up in surrender before gesturing to you to take it.

"Hello?" you said, pressing the phone reluctantly to your ear. 

"Were you being honest this afternoon when you said your friend was a priest?" 

"Yes, I was," you replied with a frustrated sigh, glancing up at him, like you were scared he would disappear if you took your eyes off him for too long. 

"The priest at St Augustine's?" Mara asked, her tone as snippy as ever. 

"Yes." 

"Could you ask him if he'll christen Soleil?" 

"Could I- You're calling me to ask if- Are you jok-"

"I can," said Father Benedict, able to hear her on the other end, interjecting before you completely lost it. "I can do that. Just have her come to mass on Sunday and I'll talk to her about it then." 

You let out a huff. "Did you hear that, Mara?" 

"I did. Tell him I said thanks. Oh and-" 

"Yeah, okay." You hung up and stuffed the phone back in your pocket, able to feel the annoyance heating up your cheeks. "She only wants her baptised so she can put her in that fucking catholic school by the town centre. Fucking hell! Of all the moments to-"

"It's okay," he said softly. "We should probably go, anyway." 

"But we-"

"We should probably go," he repeated, slightly more sternly, before turning on his heels and making his way towards the exit.

Part 5: Sacrifice

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[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 2:

Acting On Your Best Behaviour Ch 16:

Summary:

They'd seen it in their fellow orphans often enough to recognise the pattern and were now forced to admit, despite their hopes to the contrary, that Isidora had likely suffered similar side effects.

No… they'd always known she had. The Keeper had just wanted the power that Ranrok had, enough to convince themselves that they would be able to handle it better than that naive woman.

With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.

Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.

Warnings: This chapter contains smut! And violence. But not violent smut, don't worry xD

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injuries! Canon-typical violence! Not exactly torture, but kinda torture? And of course, the SMUT you're all here for! Finally-

Also, I spent like 40hrs+ drawing the map for this chapter x') I redrew the lake like five times and the mountains four times before I was satisfied OTL I am so tired- I really don't know how I managed to finish drawing the map by hand and a 5k+ chapter in time lol

Anyway, feel free to speed scroll down to reference the map when the characters look at it or save it to look at after reading! I've uploaded two variations of the map, the original map, as well as the map that the characters have made notes and drawings on.

You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!

Also here’s a cool site I found that *ahem* might be helpful for the map :3 https://abcbraille.com/braille

"How is she?" The Keeper asked as soon as Sepulchria's feet touched the ground.

Tynx, who had come to greet them as always, bowed slightly as he replied. "Master's… guest, has given in to hunger, after refusing to eat for two days, and is currently consuming the food that Tibsy brought her. She has also been demanding that she be released or be allowed to speak with her captor."

"Ignore her demands, she'll see me again soon enough." The Keeper chuckled, holding the thestral in place while Sebastian dismounted first.

"How long will we wait before going after her?" Sebastian asked, offering them a hand to dismount.

Taking the offered hand, the Keeper hopped off the thestral, landing with a soft grunt. "With the anti-apparition ward, I'd give her a generous minimum of six hours to reach the borders of our territory, so we can wait in the gatehouse for about an hour before going after her."

The Keeper patted Sepulchria's flank, tucking the beast back into their Nab-sack, before turning to Tynx and passing him a small vial of invisibility potion. "I want you tailing her through the entire test. If she comes within reach of escaping, and restraining her is not an option, you have permission to kill her."

"Yes Master." Tynx dipped his head without hesitation, tucking the vial away in one of his coat pockets.

"Good, you can leave her cell door unlocked after clearing away the dishes." The Keeper nodded, gesturing for Sebastian to begin heading into the gatehouse and adding with a wry smile. "Try to make it look like an accident."

"Of course, happy hunting, Master." Tynx bobbed his head and popped away.

The Keeper snorted lightly as they turned to follow Sebastian up the stairs to the gatehouse.

"Are you sure we can't start experimenting with your power on her?" Sebastian asked, frowning as they fell in step with him. "The sooner we find a way to safely extract pain, the sooner we can cure my sister."

"I understand your impatience." The Keeper soothed, placing a hand on his arm. "But we can't properly prepare our defences if I accidentally damage her emotions."

Reaching the upper floor, the Keeper pushed the door open and entered the gatehouse as they continued. "Fear is a powerful motivator. Without emotions, she likely wouldn't attempt an escape and surely you remember what happened the last time you gambled on succeeding at complex magic on your first try."

Sebastian winced as he followed with a sigh, leaning against the wall. "You're right, sorry. I just-"

"I know." The Keeper murmured, closing the door and cupping a hand against his face, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "We'll save her, but we must be patient and smart about this or we'll never get there."

"Yeah, we will." Sebastian breathed, moving forward to capture their lips more firmly and placing his hands on their hips.

The Keeper allowed him to hold them for a few moments, before pulling away gently with a chuckle. "Let's not get distracted."

Sebastian huffed lightly but dropped his hands and the Keeper moved over to the map that lay on the table, the only piece of furniture they'd bothered to place in the gatehouse for the time being. The late morning rays streamed through the window and illuminated the large parchment.

"We can assume that this woman has some familiarity with the terrain of this region, having lived just east of Dìon for most of her life." The Keeper placed their hands on the table. Not noticing the way Sebastian's eyes lingered on their behind before he shook himself, dragged his brain out of the gutter, and joined them at the table.

Sebastian cleared his throat before nodding. "She probably knows the lake at least, it's a good source of freshwater and the far end of it is relatively near her home."

"Indeed, it is likely that she'll attempt to travel in that direction when she gets her bearings. The blood potion Tibsy added to her food should make it easy for us to track her through our territory." The Keeper nodded. "I doubt she'll make it to the red zone but we'll see."

"Hopefully she will, I'm eager to see if the runes we drew work." Sebastian grinned with all the mischievous energy of a hyperactive kitten.

The Keeper chuckled. "I'm more curious to see how the prototype Guardians we constructed will perform."

At that moment, the Keeper felt the fine hairs on their skin raise as the cell breach alarm rippled through their wards. Their mental visualisation of their environment now held a distinct point in space that they could sense even from a distance.

"Well, the detection wards on the cells work." Sebastian grinned, having long since been keyed into said wards as well.

"And the tracking potion works, are you getting it too?" The Keeper asked as they 'watched' the woman move upwards through the underground floors.

Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, feels weird, but it looks like I was right, mixing both our blood into the Indago blood-magic potion allows both of us to track the target."

"Excellent." The Keeper nodded, they were off to a good start.

Moving to the windows, the Keeper watched the tent covering the underground entrance carefully as they swished their wand. "Tempus."

Sebastian joined them and several minutes passed while they waited, before the tent flap was pushed open and the haggard looking woman peeked out of it, her wand gripped firmly in her hand.

"Not bad, she found the wand that we left for her in the elves' quarters." Sebastian chuckled.

"Twenty minutes to reach the ground floor with her wand, we'll see how far we can push that with obstacles." The Keeper muttered as they noted down the time on the journal they'd extracted from their satchel.

Seeing that the courtyard was empty, the woman sprinted for the castle gates. As she neared the gate, guarded by two simple clay statues on either side of the arch, designed in an approximate resemblance to the Elder Keepers' Guardians, the two statues came to life and attacked her.

The Keeper watched the statues' movements with avid interest as the startled woman dodged four consecutive sword strikes with unexpected agility, considering her condition. Perhaps her father had trained her to defend herself in the event that they were pursued.

However, another two attacks later, the statues' movements slowed, grinded to a halt, and then crumbled into a cloud of fine clay powder.

"Tch, only five minutes of active time for so much Ancient magic?" The Keeper kissed their teeth in annoyance. "I guess I'll have to perform the Leyline Binding ritual, before they are viable, after all."

While she seemed uncertain about the remains of the statues, the woman wasted no time and waved her wand, casting Alohomora on the gate's lock and sprinting through the gates the moment they were open. The woman sprinted to the other side, and the Keeper and Sebastian moved to another window to continue monitoring her.

She surveyed the environment, taking advantage of the castle's position atop a hill to get a good look around, before she took off downhill at a brisk pace. The Keeper watched impassively, trusting that Tynx was trailing after the woman at a distance under the invisibility potion.

"Well then, whatever shall we do while we wait?" Sebastian whispered, resting his chin on the Keeper's shoulder.

"You rest up for the hunt, while I take a hit." The Keeper chuckled and pulled out a jar from their satchel while Sebastian pouted.

Tynx watched carefully from his perch atop a tree as the woman finally finished winding her way down the hill after thirty minutes. He had been concerned when the statues crumbled at the gates, but he would simply continue following his master's orders until instructed otherwise.

In truth, he hadn't been particularly surprised when the Keeper brought an unconscious and bound woman to be kept in the dungeons. The design of the underground levels made their use obvious to him from the start. He'd done his best to minimise Tibsy's interaction with the prisoner to give her time to adjust, but this was something the young house elf would have to come to terms with.

As long as it wasn’t him or Tibsy being used to test their master's security, it wasn’t their place to say what their master could or couldn't do. It was more than enough that he wasn't the one stepping into a bear trap cunningly placed amongst the grass covering the long strip of field between the hill and the forest.

The loud crunch of her bone and the woman's shrill scream were jarring but Tynx simply swallowed and tried his best not to think about it. He'd tolerated far worse without a single complaint.

The woman lay on the ground, whimpering in pain for several minutes, before she pulled herself together and raised her wand shakily to sever the spring holding the trap closed. She then tore off a strip of her skirt and tied it firmly around her knee.

Her breaths became frenzied as she pried the teeth open, gasping in agony as the sharp metal slid free from her flesh, before choking out a Vitulus Emendo charm through her sobs and groaning in pain as her calf bone mended.

To her credit, she seemed to understand that she couldn't afford to rest for very long, and hurriedly cast a Ferula charm on her leg, causing bandages to coil around her leg in a neat splint. A sound concern, as the moment that she managed to get to her feet, the Keeper and Sebastian arrived on Sepulchria's back, landing a few meters behind her.

Propelled by fear and adrenaline, the woman began to sprint for the forest line as Sebastian flung a Confringo at her from the thestral's back. Laughing when she barely ducked in time, the cloth covering her shoulder catching on fire, stumbling as she cast Aguamenti on herself to put it out.

Tynx watched as Sebastian dropped from Sepulchria's back, chasing after the woman with a wide grin, while the Keeper followed at a more leisurely pace, gesturing for the thestral to circle overhead.

Sebastian threw an Expulso that the woman neatly dodged, throwing a Stupefy back at him, which he countered, as she ran in zigzags to avoid getting hit by the Keeper's Diffindo.

As the woman entered the treeline of the large forest surrounding the lake, Tynx popped over to another tree, tracking her progress through the thicket from amongst the high branches. Carefully making his way from branch to branch rather than travelling on the ground, specifically to avoid-

The woman shrieked in pain as she ran face first into a web of thin and barely visible wires strung up from the low hanging branches of one tree to the next. The thin and sharp wires at head level sliced into the woman's face, just taut enough to leave deep and painful cuts without threatening to cause more severe damage.

Jumping back, the woman placed a hand against her bleeding cheeks, gaping at the mesh of wires that were now adorned with small beads of red along the strands. Perhaps now understanding exactly how sadistic her captors were, that she had just entered an arena designed not to kill or even capture, but to cause as much pain as possible.

"Are you sure you have the luxury of gawping?" The taunting voice made the woman jump and she spun around to see the Keeper emerge from the shadows with a wicked smirk stretched across their lips, followed closely by Sebastian, a vicious light in his eyes.

At the sight of their sinister figures, she began running once more, followed closely by another Confringo from Sebastian, his voice filled with anticipation as he called out after her. "Come now, give us some fight, it's more fun that way!"

"Careful not to fall into one of our own traps, love." The Keeper chuckled as Sebastian leaped forward in pursuit.

"I know, I know." Sebastian called back distractedly, ducking under the wires, and throwing a Diffindo after the woman, who countered it with a Protego this time, throwing a Bombarda back at him.

The Keeper sighed as Sebastian dodged and tripped over a root with a yelp. Without missing a beat, they poured their ancient magic into their feet to sprint to his side, throwing up a shield to defend him from the explosive heat.

"Aha ha… thanks." Sebastian cleared his throat and laughed sheepishly as they helped him up.

They could feel his pulse thrum in their firm grip, the heat of his excitement felt almost scalding where their hands grasped. The Keeper allowed themselves to partake of Sebastian's feverish eagerness, fueling their own energy with it.

"Don't get carried away." The Keeper smirked knowingly, releasing his hand as he got to his feet, giving him time to collect himself.

"Sorry, I- well, it's just been so long since we got to fight together-" Sebastian explained breathlessly, brushing the dirt from his clothing.

"I know, but you needn't rush. This is different from our battles last year, we've got plenty of time to enjoy the hunt." The Keeper purred with a sharp smirk as they turned to follow the woman, offering him their hand again.

Sebastian felt their low voice resonate through him, reigniting the fire in his veins as he took their hand, feeling almost as though he had somehow become intoxicated. A wide grin stretched across his face and his eyes gleamed with elation as he followed the Keeper’s lead, weaving through the trees to catch up with their prey.

Meanwhile, Tynx had continued to keep the woman within his sight. His master was strong enough that he wasn't particularly concerned about their safety, a monster like them would probably melt a blade the moment it touched their skin.

The woman stumbled through the forest frantically, casting an Episkey on her face to close the gashes and doing her best to cover her tracks by rearranging the foliage behind her, to no avail of course.

Tynx shook his head as she wasted time and effort on a futile endeavour, though she couldn't possibly know that she was being tracked or that she wouldn't be leaving this forest regardless. Summoning a swirl of air to part the foliage woman examined the ground carefully as she continued walking, avoiding several bear traps this way.

As she reached a fork, she spotted several darker wires along the floor, perhaps thinking that her captors had made a mistake when trying to camouflage the wires, making them visible instead, she smiled and lifted her foot to step over them.

Only for her shin to press against a barely visible strip of wire placed right above the black ones. It dug into her skin, leaving a deep gash that burned as she fell forwards and over onto a mesh of wires, feeling the net sitting an inch over the floor cut into her palms.

The woman trembled, in such pain that she could barely breathe, nor did she really want to, as every breath made her weight shift and thus sliding the wires in her flesh. Holding her breath, she overcame the pain and forced her hands to apply pressure to the wires so she could leverage herself off the net cutting into her hands and knees.

Rolling off onto the soil, she curled up into a ball, gasping in pain. Her hands trembled, blood oozing from the multitudes of paper-thin gashes lining her palms and knees, as she cast another Episkey charm to close her new injuries.

Struggling to her feet, she pushed past her pain and continued stumbling through the forest for several minutes before the soil beneath her feet gave way and, with a yelp, she found herself falling into a pit filled with bright red ants. The fire ants went into a frenzy, climbing up her arms and legs, biting into her flesh angrily and the woman brandished her wand, crying out in panic. "Incendio!"

Tynx winced, she'd acted exactly as his master had predicted. The flames from her wand rolled over the ants, burning them to cinders, and unfortunately, igniting the oil covered wood that lined the bottom of the pit.

The woman coughed through the heat, desperately struggling to climb out of the pit. Unaware that the Keeper had designed this pitfall with a small tunnel dug out through the side that ensured that the fire would always have oxygen once started and the heat would build endlessly until she cooked alive.

Tynx hovered uncertainly, his master had not instructed him to save her life if she seemed in legitimate danger of dying and he wasn't sure if he should intervene.

However, while he was hesitating, the woman resolved his dilemma by managing to cast a non-verbal jet of Aguamenti, dousing the fire but also causing an explosion of hot steam and scalding water that probably would have wrung another scream from her if her raw throat were able to produce sound at this point.

The woman's hands scrabbled against the dirt around the rim of the pit, struggling to find traction in the loose soil as she dragged herself out of the boiling water. Her hands shook as she cast Aguamenti again on herself, whimpering in relief as the cool water soothed her burnt and boil-covered skin.

Tynx relaxed, at least he no longer had to guess what his master would prefer he do. He returned to his surveillance and was admittedly impressed when the woman dragged herself to her feet after barely fifteen minutes of rest.

"...found you…" The Keeper's lightly singsong voice was almost eerie as it cut through the woman's laboured breathing.

Immediately, she waved her wand, pulling the still boiling water from the pit and flung it in the direction of the terrifying voice. Without looking back, the woman began sprinting again as a Diffindo sliced into the bark of a tree just centimetres from her.

Sebastian grinned from behind a wall of ice, having cast Glacius, after the Keeper's Diffindo, to defend against the scalding water. Their prey had some fight in her, this was so much more fun than he'd hoped. Honestly, Sebastian had been looking forward to releasing his pent-up frustration from how awful this school year had been and this was exactly what he'd needed.

The Keeper slashed their wand, shattering the ice and the two of them shot forward as one, the Keeper lassoing a boulder with their ancient magic. With a grunt they launched it towards the woman while Sebastian cast a Levitation charm at her to prevent her from dodging it.

The boulder hit its mark with a satisfying crunch, shattering the arm she'd raised to defend herself and the stubborn woman crumpled to the floor. With her uninjured wand arm, she shot a non-verbal Bombarda at them and forced herself to her feet to continue running.

Shielding against the blast, the Keeper waved their wand to dispel the smoke from the explosion and flung another Diffindo at her. The spell clipped her on the leg, slicing open one of her boils and making her limp as the two of them continued the chase.

As they ran, Sebastian spotted the lake through the trees just off to the right and a thrill rushed through him when he realised their location. They were almost at the red zone, placed halfway between the castle and the border of their territory. A glance at the steely glint in his lover's eyes confirmed that they'd noticed too, and his excitement spiked.

The two threw themselves into their pursuit with renewed vigour, doing their best to keep the woman within their sights as she ran across a clearing, until…

The woman's left foot landed squarely on an inconspicuous patch of grass and in an instant, sharp spikes stabbed upwards through her shoes, into her sole and burst out through the top of her foot with a spray of blood.

Her mouth opened in a soundless scream, and she dropped to a knee. Her blood seeped into the soil and all of a sudden, runes began appearing in glowing red letters over her body and across the floor in two directions. The woman finally passed out from the pain, exertion and magic of the runes, unbeknownst to her, the red line of runes were now cutting through the forest in a long red strip.

Seeing the glow as they stopped several meters away from the woman, the Keeper grinned, and Sebastian let out a shout of triumph. Their hard work had paid off, three whole days of tedious rune-work and trap setting across the entire strip of forest between Dìon and the border.

Drunk on their success, Sebastian moved without thinking and the next moment his hands were pulling his partner into his arms. Their lips were electric against his own and he moaned in excitement as their bodies pressed flush against each other.

He wanted and wanted, and he didn't know exactly how to say what he wanted, but he really really did.

The Keeper smirked against Sebastian’s lips as his hands gripped their hips tightly, not particularly surprised that Sebastian's excitement had hit its peak here.

They couldn't deny their own joy and desire either, this was a victory that they weren't sure they'd achieve, there were so many ways that the blood magic could fail, but they'd succeeded at creating a powerful protective barrier over the most vulnerable entry to their lands with blood magic. One that would trap anything whose veins ran with blood, paralysing them and gradually draining their life and magical energy.

The mountains around their territory were mostly stone, incredibly steep and prone to landslides, making them a natural barrier that was treacherous to scale. So, they didn't need to guard against that direction very strongly, but the forest and long lake presented more of an opening to a ground invasion or escape on foot.

With this, the only thing that remained was the lake, but they could work on that later, the Keeper mused as their fingers worked their way under Sebastian's tunic to caress his heated skin. He whimpered into their mouth as he pressed against them with more urgency, and the Keeper chuckled as they pulled away, disregarding his noise of complaint.

"Let's take this elsewhere." The Keeper purred, whistling for Sepulchria and lifting their eyes, spotting an unnaturally weighed down branch along the canopy. "Tynx, get her back into her cell and pour this down her throat."

Tynx startled when their eyes lingered on him for a split second, could they see him?

"Yes, Master." Swallowing uncomfortably, he popped to the floor, catching the vial of wiggenweld that the Keeper tossed in his general direction as the red light of the runes faded from the floor. The runes were still on the woman's body, draining her magic and strength.

Until Tynx snapped his fingers and lifted the unconscious woman by her clothes, dropping her over the back of the thestral that had landed a few steps away from him. The moment the woman was back on the side of the red zone that she'd entered from, the runes' light faded and ceased its drain.

The elf then climbed into Sepulchria's back and the thestral began flying them back to the castle.

That settled, the Keeper took Sebastian by the hand and began to tug him towards the lake. Weaving through the trees and traps, the shimmering surface of the water that soon came into their view, took their breath away.

Letting Sebastian's hand go as they passed the treeline, and stepped into the sunlight, the Keeper tugged their shirt off, tossing it onto the light brown sand as they ran across the shore. Sebastian grinned as he got the idea and began divesting himself of his clothes as they reached the lakeside.

Kicking off their shoes, the Keeper paused to strip their socks before splashing into the shallow water in their undergarments, stopping only to watch Sebastian nearly trip on his pants and laughing as they waded deeper into the water. Enjoying the spring breeze, the warm afternoon sun and the refreshingly clear water, the Keeper happily dipped down into the water to wash off the sweat from their chase.

Sebastian had a hard time dragging his eyes away to tug off his sock, entranced by the sight of his lover's cheeks, still flushed from their chase, and the lake water sparkling in the sunlight as the droplets trickled down their torso. The simmering want in his heart resurged when they flashed him an inviting smirk.

Ripping the stubborn fabric off and flinging it off somewhere behind him, Sebastian waded through the waist high water towards them, sputtering when they playfully splashed water in his face. With a grin, he made a grab for them, and they ducked, weaving around him, before hiding behind a large half submerged boulder.

Chasing them around the boulder, Sebastian ducked a splash, catching them by the wrist and pinning them against the stone, its surface smooth from years of erosion. The Keeper laughed at the victorious grin on Sebastian's face as he braced a hand against the rock, holding them still with his body, drops of water dripping from his wavy brown hair as his heated breaths warmed their cheek.

Rewarding his hard work, the Keeper tilted their head to the side and pressed their lips together, allowing him to coax them open as he released their wrist to palm their side, groaning into their mouth. His pressing need pressed against them, the warmth of their chest against his own causing arousal to curl in his abdomen.

Sebastian could barely think past the heat pounding through his ears, the feeling of their wet skin against his own, reminding him of that night in the prefects' bath.

Eager to re-experience the sensation of cotial bliss with his lover, he urged them into a better position, where he could press himself against their arousal and grounded his hips against them, releasing an involuntary moan of relief at the stimulation. The muffled groan that they bit back at the same time was tantalising and he rocked against them once more, seeking to draw as many sounds as he could from his conservative lover.

The gentle lapping of water, rippling against the boulder with every thrust, was strangely hypnotic and he gasped as their nails dug into his shoulders, ecstatic that he could draw such carnal reactions from them. Peeling his lips from theirs, he moved down along their neck, tasting their skin and sucking the moisture from it like a man in the desert.

Sebastian could feel that he wouldn't last very long, so tightly coiled he yet was from their invigorating chase, but he wanted them to reach their peak together this time. So, he doubled his efforts, running his hands over their body desperately as he rocked his hips against them, determined to hold out until they came.

The Keeper's breath caught at the delicious way his body moved against theirs, feeling how powerful all their time spent working and fighting together had made him, both physically and magically. How far he'd come, how far they'd come. They had so much power now, this land, this lake, this boy. It was all theirs, and while they couldn't share this joy of hunting with Ominis, he was theirs too.

They gasped as Sebastian rubbed a thumb over their hardened nipple, feeling his muscles shift under his shoulder blade with every thrust that slid them along the smooth surface of the rock against their back. Loving the way his breath shook with every movement, his eyes glassy as though it was taking everything in him to hold them so.

Like they were worth it.

This thought and the building pleasure between them made the Keeper's grip tighten around Sebastian's shoulders as they felt euphoria sing through their veins and pulse through their body like fire. Groaning his name through clenched teeth, their body tightened and that swelling bubble of bliss exploded into pure ecstasy.

The sound of his name and the heated breath against his ear made Sebastian's brain sizzle and melt. A moan escaped his lips, feeling his grip slip and the dam burst, that incredible surge of pleasure crashing over him like a wave.

His hips ground against them a few more times, feeling their body jolt from the overstimulation, before he came to a stop with a sigh of satisfaction. His breaths were heavy and shaky, his legs trembling, as the two of them slumped against the boulder, panting from the high they'd reached, the cloth between their cores warm and sticky as their fluids dissolved into the water.

Regaining their footing, the Keeper removed their nails from Sebastian's skin and slipped their arms under his, supporting him as they slowly slid down the boulder to sit, letting the water's buoyancy carry some of their weight while the two of them recovered their strength.

Settling down beside the Keeper, Sebastian leaned back, resting his head against theirs and basking in the comfortable silence, the gentle sway of the lake water soothing against his skin.

"Our home really is quite wonderful." The Keeper murmured contentedly as their breathing settled.

"Yeah." Sebastian agreed with a soft smile. Home. He hadn't truly felt any particular place as "home" since his parents died. After that, home came to mean wherever Anne was, and then it changed to wherever his lovers were. In time, he could see this place feeling like home too.

"Anywhere we're together is wonderful." Sebastian took their hand in his as he spoke his heart.

"How sweet." The Keeper chuckled, turning to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "It is so to me as well, there's nowhere else I'd rather be than home with you."

Sebastian's eyes moistened, love swelling in his heart, and he knew that it didn't matter what trials or tribulations lay in their future, because he'd be by their side. He didn't care who had to suffer for it, he would protect what they had. He could face anything, as long as he was with the Keeper and Ominis.

Never one to stay still for very long, the Keeper eventually got to their feet and surveyed their beautiful lake. "Since we're here…"

Sebastian blinked as the Keeper seemed to spot something moving under the surface through the clear water and abruptly made a beeline for the deeper end.

With a fond smile, Sebastian got up to follow as the Keeper dived in and disappeared under the short waves. A few steps later, Sebastian felt the floor drop out from under him and, taking a deep breath, sank into the water as well.

The sun's late afternoon light shone through the water in multihued streams, and he turned his head around, searching for them for several moments, before he felt arms drape around his shoulders from behind.

Sebastian smiled like a loon as the Keeper's chest pressed against his back and he felt a soft kiss on his cheek. Before they released him and swam around him, offering him a hand, while the other seemed to be clutched around something.

Without hesitation, he took it, and they swam to the surface together, emerging close enough to the shore to stand. Breaking through the water, Sebastian only spared a second to breathe before he pulled them in for a proper kiss. He could taste the sweet lake water on their lips as he held them close, his heart melting in the heat of his affection.

The Keeper huffed a breathless laugh as he broke away to breathe. "You really only think of one thing, don't you."

Sebastian frowned indignantly. "No, I don't."

The Keeper chuckled as they ran a hand down his bare chest to palm his rapidly hardening length through the cloth. "Sure."

"That is extremely unfair." Sebastian protested, his cheeks reddening.

"It's barely been thirty minutes." The Keeper laughed, shaking their head.

"Now see here, you can't blame me for reacting when you're constantly riling me up." Sebastian argued.

"Am I?" The Keeper smirked knowingly, and Sebastian groaned as his heart rate spiked immediately.

"You absolutely are, bloody demon." He growled in frustration, knowing that there was no way he could win this one, he settled for covering their grinning mouth with his own.

Notes:

Sebastian: I'd kill for my lovers. *turns to the Keeper and Ominis* Please ask me to kill for you. The Keeper: Sure! Ominis: Absolutely not! Don't encourage him! — Were the Keeper's legs wrapped around Sebastian's waist so he could grind against their clit or were their feet on the ground and Sebastian was grinding their lengths together? Well, that depends on which assigned gender you prefer ;)

There's also going to be another smut scene between the Keeper and Ominis, because I want to be fair to both boys haha x3

Also, the traps in this chapter are actually based off Vietnam war tactics during the Vietnam War of 1955-1975, let's just say they had quite insane strategies.

Vietnam traps are designed to hurt, to make the soldiers who step onto a pressure plate and have their legs pierced with twenty thin spikes, scream as loud as possible to scare and demoralise their own comrades. They even threw naked women onto the field, surrounded by traps, to lure in American soldiers who would try to rescue these women and evacuate them or, well, possibly other reasons I suppose.

So, of course, our Keeper gonna use those kinda strats xP Also, the fire ant pitfall is made with a Dakota Fire Hole design, it's actually a rather brilliant way to create an oven in the wild. My partner came up with that one haha... we're both fucked up- x')

Also, I wonder if an Alohomora charm would open a bear trap, I mean, technically it's forcing open something after all xP

[icantalk710]

...So, after I communicated that (his "not a huge texter"ness aside) I wanted us to text just a *little* more so we'd keep connecting while he's "had a lot going on" (even suggesting Snapchat for that and that I'd be here if he wanted to talk about some of it [even though we'd only hung twice, we've been friends on IG for a year]) after he last apologized for disappearing got no response, and after my check-in a week or so ago about how his week had gone gave me nothing, I sent a last text two weeks ago seeing if we were still talking and he still did want to hang out again but "all good if not" and even that got no reply--of course, note that he has had time throughout all this to check out my IG stories, yet still wouldn't communicate...

And turns out he's still been on the Apps (TM) as I've been waiting to hear back either way on that--with a guy leaving him a little hookup review on the site we started talking on last night 🙃 (which also complimented his gorgeous eyes I wanted to see again 🥲)

Having only hung twice (drinks/hookup early Aug and a dinner late Aug [with a hookup pre-empted by leaks from some rain that night that he had to tend to bc of his building super phoning in some repairs, but we kissed on making that up on Labor Day and he flaked, though he at least apologized the next day]), I didn't make much of seeing him there sometimes thinking we were still vibing well enough, but it felt shitty seeing that review when I also said i missed him in that text and he still hadnt replied to me--and while I was taking him at his word that things were too hectic on his end to hang out based on what he told me at dinner was going on and giving him space. Like, how much of that has been true the last couple weeks?

After fighting it a bit, I sent him an actual last text earlier to get it off my chest, saying i would've liked a reply either way, that i couldve worked with him wanting to just be casual or friends if he said so, and how I'd like to think he was being honest about how hectic things were but it felt shitty seeing him getting that review when I've thought we still had chemistry, be it casual or more. We'll see if he replies and doesn't just block me on things (he hasn't yet on that site), though I might softblock him if he just views my stories again... But just from how much energy I've spent trying to check in on him and what we're doing (and him rarely checking on me, which should've been a sign) and in overthinking how I wanted to text him about how we were feeling... It helped in August that he would reaffirm that he was interested, and I told him at dinner that I liked being reassured some so I know not to overthink things, but there was little of that through September, and i thought he'd take me up on Snap 😔

Especially sucks since he would've also been nice to talk to given my grandma's worsening health and how he'd recently lost his, but since he hasn't cared to see how I'm doing... Mom's probably going to have to unplug her this week, and while I'm mostly doing okay about her because I knew this might have been in the cards for months (she'd needed an oxygen machine for a while and was sent to the ER twice between Aug and Sept due to liquid in her lungs, the latter time leading to her being in intensive care and then out of there now and mostly stable but intubated and apparently only doing 3% of her breathing herself and not really responsive), naturally it has been tough on Mom, and tbh it's also sorta scaring me a bit about having to be in a similar position with her or dad in the next 20-30+ years (they're 60 and 63 now)... or even my being on the other end of it whenever that time comes... iunno, just existentialist thoughts i guess, this is kinda just turning into freeform lol. My sisters, dad, and I will likely split funeral costs too, can't believe it's almost $5K to hold one for someone... We did hope to get her back to the DR sometime, and it is sad it most likely won't be under more ideal circumstances.

Anyway, really just wanted to vent about that guy but squeezing in grandma thoughts helped a little; I remember trying to do some occasional journaling a while back which did somewhat help keep me from bottling up thoughts so might find my way back to it somewhat.

[Ofc, it would be nice if a cute guy would hit me up on said Apps to help me take a load off too 😩 (if one doesn't compliment my Digimon crest necklace or band shirts when I'm out and about soon 😩) It doesn't help that I've still had how this guy rimmed me and how hot he and his dick were in mind since our only hookup... Wouldve been nice having a sexy socialist bf or FWB if communication was better, but oh well there should be others right]

[chiimeramanticore]

Part of the Band - Chapter 19 - The Beast

Chapter summary: Dook and Beach Bear visit the family. Dook tries a new food. Beach Bear confronts his past. A/N:

this chapter's title has a double meaning- it's a metaphor for beach bear's family, and also a metaphor for how fucking hard it was to get this chapter out (and also a metaphor for how LONG IT IS??? 5K WORDS???????) i haven't updated in a while, so i missed the actual anniversary, but potb has officially been ongoing for a year! what a ride it's been lol. i've definitely changed and improved as a writer since i started, and i'm very happy to not only have a work that you can really see me grow through, but also to have one that has had such a nice response to it! i wouldn't have written nearly as much of this fic as i have if i didn't have people reading and commenting on it. if you've enjoyed any part of this fic (and god I hope you do if you've made it to chapter 19) thank you, from the bottom of my heart! this has been my favorite thing to make for the RAE fandom (but don't tell the video essay fans that lmao) OK ACTUAL TRIGGER WARNING TIME FOR THE CHAPTER this whole chapter is about beach bear's transphobic ass family! i mentioned it in the last chapter but they are going to consistently deadname and misgender him, and also just generally be kinda shitty parents and people. part of the reason this chapter is so long is bc i wanted to condense it all into one big thing so you could just skip the one chapter! this chapter isn't the end of this arc, but probably the end of all the uncomfortable shit lol. we also touch on dook's drinking issues a little in this one, so if any of this makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip! you won't miss anything vital this time, i promise uhhhh i think thats everything? thanks! enjoy the chapter!

Chapter word count: 5,051 <- Chapter 18 - Chapter 20 -> Read it on AO3!

"Hey, Beach Bear," Dook says, staring out the car window.

"What's up?" Beach Bear replies.

"You said the other day you, like, uh... You took medicine, to become a dude, right?" Dook asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Beach Bear says. "I still take it. You've never noticed?"

Dook shakes his head. "What happens if you stop?"

"You go back," Beach Bear says. "In some regards, at least."

"Hmm." Dook slouches in his seat a bit. "So you gotta take it forever?"

"Long as I wanna stay looking like a dude, yeah," Beach Bear chuckles. "I dunno if too much would change if I stopped now, though. There's a lotta permanent stuff, too. I got a whole surgery and everything."

"Surgery?"

"Yeah, to–" he gestures vaguely at his chest, not taking his eyes off the road. "Y'know, get rid of the extra weight."

"I don't get it," Dook says.

"Agh, nevermind."

Dook stares at Beach Bear's chest. "...Hey, do you have to get your name changed, like in a court n' all?" He asks.

"Dook, I'm tryin' to drive."

Dook stares harder at his chest. He doesn't see the issue. It just looks like a guy's chest.

Oh, wait.

"What'd they do with your extra stuff after you got them removed?" He asks.

"Dook, I–" Beach Bear starts, then pauses. "I don't know, actually."

They sit quietly for a minute, both pondering the possible outcomes. Dook doesn't dedicate too much energy toward it, eventually spacing out once again on the long road ahead of them. They've been driving through the same monotonous scenery for hours now. Tall grassland... trees... a house every mile or so... It's farmland, but god if it isn't boring. There's not even any radio signal out here.

"...Beach Bear?" He pipes up.

"Yeah?"

"What're your parents like?"

"Uh..." Beach Bear trails off, thinking. "I dunno how to put it. They're... they're real pleasant, y'know? Outwardly, at least. They put on a real good face."

"How are they with you?" Dook asks.

"They're... I dunno. They're not bad. They're fine parents. They're just... They've got opinions, y'know? Very strong ones. And no amount of talking to them could ever convince them to rethink any of those opinions. They think they know everything." A hint of spite seeps into his voice at the last sentence.

"Mmh. I think I know the feelin'," Dook says. "They think they know everythin' about you, better than yourself, right?"

"Yeah," Beach Bear says. "It's– It's frustrating." He's holding his tongue, for some reason. "It's rough."

"Sounds rough." Dook says.

"And they live in this big McMansion, too," Beach Bear continues. "They act like they've got it made. They act like they're right about everything. They act like they know better than you, and don't you dare try to have a different opinion, 'cause–" He catches himself. "...'Cause... Whatever."

If Beach Bear's already getting worked up at the thought of his parents, he can't imagine what it's going to be like when they're actually there. "You gonna be okay?" Dook asks.

"Yeah," Beach Bear says, sighing. "I'll be fine. It's just a weekend."

After some seemingly endless length of time driving past the fields and farms, they finally arrive at Beach Bear's parents' house. He wasn't lying when he said they lived in a McMansion. The house is vast, with a white brick front and pale red roofing. The shapes of the roofing could be considered abstract art in itself– square, pyramid, conical, square, triangle... It almost looks like the house is trying to grow smaller houses out of it. Dook stares in awe as they get out of the car, Beach Bear's parents awaiting them on the porch.

"Beatrice!" His mother calls, rushing to embrace him. She's slender, with sandy, almost brown fur. Dook almost wouldn't guess she was a polar bear. She's done her face up almost excessively with makeup, and she hikes up her pink dress a bit to reach Beach Bear. She's still a bit shorter than him, though, and stands on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Beach Bear chuckles. "Hi, Mom," he says, hugging her back. "How've you been?" Dook watches her fuss over him, and Beach Bear taking it completely fine. It's like everything he said about not liking them before never happened.

"You're still driving this wreck, kid?" His father says, also moving from his position on the porch to greet them.

"It's the only car I've got, Dad," Beach Bear says. "We're still fixing it from the wreck."

"That's what I mean," he says. "Why keep it? Better to get something new by this point, anyway."

"Ah, that's... I guess it just didn't occur to me," Beach Bear says. Dook knows that's a lie. Why not explain his reasoning?

"And you," his mother says, turning to Dook. "You must be Dook, then?"

"Y- Yeah," Dook says. He holds out a hand. "Dook Larue. Nice to meet ya." Beach Bear's father grips it first, way too tightly.

"Good to meet you too," he says. "Name's Beau."

His mother shakes Dook's hand next. "And I'm Betty," she adds. "We're very happy to have you here, Dook."

Beau is a towering man– taller than both Betty and Beach Bear, and much taller than Dook. Here he was thinking Beach Bear was tall... Beau has gray fur, a strong face, and an equally strong build. Even for someone starting to get up there in age, he's shockingly strong-looking. Dook feels like less of a man, stood next to him. He pats Dook's back– or at least, Dook assumes that's what he meant to do. It's really more of a slap, and it makes Dook near jump out of his skin.

"Well, no point in keeping us all out here," he says. "Let's get you two unpacked."

The group takes their bags from the car and heads inside. The house somehow seems even bigger on the inside– tile flooring, two staircases on either side of the living room, and a fireplace below the TV, propped up onto the wall. Dook continues to feel smaller.

From the top of the left staircase, a ferret pops her head around the corner, waving down toward them.

"Mr. Baxter! The bedroom is finished being cleaned!" She calls.

"Thank you, Margaret," Beau calls back up to her. "Could you take their bags?" Margaret is already on her way down the stairs before he even asks. She moves quickly and smoothly, like she's refined housekeeping down to a formula. She takes their bags, acknowledging the two of them with a nod, before leaving just as quickly as she came.

"You have a maid?" Dook says.

Betty laughs. "Please, don't be ridiculous! Margaret is a housekeeper, not a maid. A maid would live here."

Dook doesn't see much difference between the two. He glances toward Beach Bear for guidance, who doesn't look back.

"Dinner is still cooking," Beau says. "In the meantime, why don't we sit and chat?" He moves toward the couch. Beach Bear and Dook follow, and Betty wanders off upstairs. Beach Bear sits next to his father, and Dook chooses to sit in the chair across from the couch.

"So, Dook," Beau starts. "Tell me about yourself."

"Well, uh–" He wasn't really expecting this. "I, ah. I'm Dook, I'm a drummer, I'm from New Orleans–"

"Lousiana?" Beau asks.

"Y- yeah."

"It's a beautiful state," he says. "Do you speak any French?"

"Ah– No," Dook says. "I know some Spanish, though."

"What led to that?" Beau asks.

"Well, I had to choose which language I wanted to take in school, and I couldn't pronounce the French letters," Dook says candidly. Beau laughs.

"Dad considers himself something of a polyglot," Beach Bear explains. "He gets real excited about it."

"Quite excited," Beau says. Dook isn't sure if he's emphasizing the point, or correcting Beach Bear on his grammar. "Still, Dook, me alegro de conocer a otro hablante de español. ¿No es así?"

"Uhh." Dook doesn't speak this much Spanish. "S- Sí. Muy bien," he says.

"Oh, Beatrice!" Betty calls, quickly going down the stairs toward them. In her arms, three books. "I was in your bedroom, just double-checking Margaret's work– not that I don't think she did a good job, of course, I just like to make sure, since you can never be too careful with these things, y'know– it's so important in situations like these when you've got someone important over and–"

"Damn it, Betty, spit it out," Beau says.

"You'll never guess what I found!" Betty finishes, dropping down the books onto the coffee table between the four of them. They're photo albums.

"Oh, god," Beach Bear says. "Mom, no."

"Why not?" Betty says. "If you and Dook are going steady, he's part of the family now. And if he's going to be part of the family, he should see our family memories. Besides, you've been missing long enough that it's started to feel like these pictures are all I had of you! You might need a refresher yourself, y'know."

"Alright, alright." Beach Bear picks up a book and opens it to a random page. "These are, like, exclusively baby pictures of me," he complains.

"What's wrong with that?" She replies, snatching the book from him. "Anyway–" She sits down next to Dook, flipping back to the first page. "–Here's our Baby Bear when we first brought her home from the hospital–"

"Mom," Beach Bear says.

"Would you quit your complaining?" Betty says.

"I don't think Dook wants to see my baby pictures," he says.

"Dook, do you have any issue with looking at our family memories?" Betty asks Dook.

Dook looks between the two of them, unsure who he should appeal to. Beach Bear would hate it if this continued, but probably wouldn't be too angry at Dook himself. Betty might be angry if they didn't continue, and he doesn't know her well enough to determine how bad it'd be. And... well, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious to see the pictures, too. He shakes his head no.

"See?" Betty says. Beach Bear sighs, but doesn't protest further. He stands from the couch.

"I'm going to the bathroom," he says.

"That's not very becoming language!" Betty calls after him.

"I'm going to powder my nose!" Beach Bear calls back, already halfway to the bathroom.

Betty sighs. "Children," she says to Dook. She flips the page. "Oh, this is her first day of preschool!"

·–—–·

Dook sits at the dinner table, staring down at the array of utensils laid out in front of him. They'd already been served soup, and Dook had to watch which spoon everyone else picked up first. It's silent in the room other than the sound of their own eating, making the whole room feel uncomfortable. At least he's managing. He glances at Beach Bear, sitting across the table from him. His expression is unreadable. Dook hopes he's holding up okay.

"Mr. Baxter," Margaret says, poking her head through the door to the dining room. "Dinner is ready."

"It's early, Margaret, isn't it?" Beau glances at the clock on the wall. "We're still on the first course."

"Yes, sir, but... the meal has been finished for a while now," Margaret protests meekly.

"We're still on the first course," he says again, gesturing to the soup bowl in front of him.

"O- of course, sir, but the meal will get cold if–"

"Margaret–"

"Beau," Betty says, her tone much gentler than his has become. She puts a hand gingerly on his arm. "Margaret, thank you. Please bring in the meal now."

Margaret nods, and disappears behind the door again.

"...Tense dinner," Beach Bear offers.

Both Betty and Beau sigh, but don't answer past that.

It's a moment more of silence before Margaret reappears, pushing a cart of food. Dook immediately recognizes the scent of seafood, but can't place the smell exactly. Margaret places plates in front of everyone at the table. It's an incredibly dark meat, with mushroom and rice on the side.

"Is this...?"

"Seal," Betty says. "It's a delicacy among polar bears... and Beatrice's favorite." She smiles at Beach Bear.

"Yeah," Beach Bear adds. "I haven't had it in ages."

"Dook, you've never had it?" Beau asks. Dook shakes his head, and Beau laughs. "You're in for a treat, then."

Margaret approaches Dook again, with a bottle of wine in hand. She gestures for his glass so she can pour the drink. Dook hesitates. He hasn't had any alcohol since... since his 'incident,' causing this whole mess. He's not sure if having anything to drink tonight is exactly a smart idea.

"I, uh, I really shouldn't," he says quietly to her.

"Don't be ridiculous," Beau says. "You're a guest, have something to drink."

Dook glances toward Beach Bear.

"You wouldn't want to deny their hospitality... honey," he says somewhat awkwardly. Dook had almost forgotten they're meant to be a couple.

"R– right," he says. "I guess I can have a glass, then." He passes his glass to Margaret, who fills it with the dark red liquid. Dook can't deny the little surge of excitement he gets when he sees it pour out of the bottle. What a pretty color.

"So, Dook," Betty says, "tell me about you."

"Well, I–"

"He speaks Spanish," Beau says. "Did you know that?"

"No," Betty says, enthused. "What a cultured young man. How did you meet Beatrice?"

Dook freezes at the question. He knows how they met, but he also knows they'd hate the answer. He hadn't prepared any better of a story.

"We met at a social thing," Beach Bear cuts in. "Remember that youth group thing I mentioned to you on the phone?" Betty nods. "Dook's a counselor for a group a bracket below mine. We had a counselors-only get-together situation, and we met there." He takes a bite of his food. "Very family-friendly."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Beau says. Then, "Dook, I wasn't aware you worked with children."

Dook wasn't aware, either. "I'm... very humble," he says. He stares down at his plate. He didn't even realize seal was a thing anyone ate. It's dark red, almost black. His nose is telling him otherwise, but... he takes a bite. It's unlike anything he's ever had before– and he's unsure if that's a good thing or not. Far too fishy for his taste, he knows. But he know he needs to keep up appearances, so he can't stop eating entirely. Instead, he takes a sip of his wine. It's good– sweet, and not too dry. Dook starts taking bigger sips.

"Mmh," Beau grumbles. "Did you see that story on the news this morning? I swear, they need to bring back actual reporting. This whole thing with–"

"Beau, honey," Betty says. "Not at dinner."

Beau grumbles again, trying to find another topic to discuss. "...Tax season's coming up."

No one knows how to respond– the table falls quiet. Dook finds his glass empty already. He puts it down on the table, picking more at his meal. It only takes a few more nibbles at the meat for Margaret to return with the bottle, offering him more. Who is he to deny their hospitality?

"This is really good," he says to no one in particular as he drinks more.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're enjoying the meal," Betty says. Dook blinks, looking down at his barely-touched plate.

"Right," he says.

The dinner continues in bouts of silence for a while longer– spurts of uncomfortable conversation sandwiched by quiet portions of just eating and drinking. Dook makes his way through about half the plate and a third glass of wine. By then, he's not quite paying attention to the conversations happening around him, more listening idly as he feels that familiar pleasant fuzz come over him.

"So, ah. Mom, Dad, how have things been?" Beach Bear says, if only to break another stretch of silence. "Since I was last here, and all."

"...We redid the game room," Betty says.

Dook's ears perk up. "Game room?"

"Oh, yeah," Beach Bear says. "You'd like it, Dook. We should play a game after this."

"Okay," Dook says, smiling for possibly the first time since they got here. He glances toward Margaret– who moves to open a second bottle.

"And you?" Beau asks, not looking up from his plate. "What have you gotten up to since you stopped talking to us?"

"...Well, uh... Dook and I have been, uh, putting together a band," Beach Bear says.

"Don't tell me you're still doing that music crap," Beau says.

"Beau," Betty says.

"No," he says, "No, this is just ridiculous. If she were a musician, a real one playing real music, I'd understand. But this– this 'rock and roll' thing? There's no class!"

"Dad, I–"

"Is this what you left us for?" He says.

"That's not why!" Dook snaps.

"Dook!" Beach Bear says sharply. "Don't... Don't get involved."

"I... Okay," he says. Beach Bear's right– he's being impulsive. Dook looks to his glass, just in time to see Margaret fill it up again. A wash of shame comes over him. He keeps drinking.

"I don't know what I expected from you," Beau continues. "What did I want? Change? After all this time of you missing?"

"Beau, I think you've had too much wine, honey," Betty tries.

He ignores her. "What did I expect, maturity? Class? Respectability? From you?"

Beach Bear clenches his jaw, but doesn't say anything.

"What other little 'phases' of yours are you not over?" Beau interrogates, standing from his chair and leaning over the table toward Beach Bear. "I swear to God, if I find out you've still been smoking pot, I'll–"

"You'll what?" Beach Bear says. "Disown me?"

Beau opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. Everyone at the table knows Beach Bear is already basically estranged. He sits down.

"...Your voice sounds different," he mutters.

Beach Bear stabs his fork into a mushroom. "I'm still working at the music store, Mom."

Betty laughs, sharp and nervous. "That's– that's great, honey," she says. She stands with her plate. Margaret hurries to take it from her, and only then does Betty seem to remember she's here.

"Excuse me," she says, before hurriedly leaving the room.

·–—–·

"Beach Bear," Dook says.

"I know, it's not what you expected," Beach Bear says.

"Beach Bear."

"Look, I'll teach you how to play, alright? Don't worry about it."

"Beach Bear."

"What?"

"I'm, uh..." Dook shifts awkwardly, the plush carpeting of the game room under his feet making him feel somewhat unsteady. "I'm sorry. About dinner."

"Why?" Beach Bear asks. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"You–" He's still buzzed, which isn't helping him find the right words. "You got mad at me."

Beach Bear sighs. "I'm not mad at you, man. I'm– I'm sorry I snapped at you then. I got stressed, 'cause I thought you were gonna say something about..." His eyes flash to the doorway for a second. "...y'know."

"...I almost did," Dook says.

"But you didn't," Beach Bear tells him. "That's what matters." He stands from the bench they're sitting on. "How are you doing?"

"How am I...?" Dook doesn't understand the question.

"Well, for starters, you were kinda getting through dinner on wine," Beach Bear says. "And I know dinner was... I know my family's..." He makes a sour face, not finishing the sentence.

"I know," Dook says.

"They're... usually better than that. Especially with guests."

"It's been a long time since they saw you," Dook says. "It's– it makes sense if they're, y'know. What's the word?"

"Harboring some emotions?" Beach Bear responds, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah," Dook says, "it's all pent up n' all."

"I guess." Beach Bear doesn't seem happy with the answer, but it's not like there's a better answer out there.

"At least we leave tomorrow," Dook offers.

"Yeah," Beach Bear says. He moves over to Dook's left, toward the billiards table. "You still want me to teach you how to play?"

Dook stands. "Yeah. Show me."

Beach Bear hands Dook a cue before putting all the balls into place. Dook holds it somewhat awkwardly, unsure of the right positioning before settling on holding it horizontally with both hands. Beach Bear finishes setting up the game, resting the stick vertically at his side, and Dook quickly corrects. Beach Bear snickers.

"I'll start," he says. "The goal of the game is to get all of your balls into the holes on the sides of the table. You can only hit the white ball, which has to knock the other balls into the holes. If you get the white ball in the hole, you lose a turn and I get to put it wherever I want. If you get the black 8 ball in the hole before you've done everything else, you automatically lose."

"Which balls are mine?" Dook asks.

"There's the solid color ones and the striped ones– whoever gets one in first gets to claim that type." Beach Bear lines up his cue, hits the white ball, and the group of colored balls scatter. A red striped one lands in a corner pocket. "Looks like I'm stripes. If you get a ball in, you get to go again."

"Sounds like you're makin' up the rules as you go," Dook says. Beach Bear laughs. He lines up again, and hits a green striped ball– which bounces off the edge of a pocket and doesn't go in.

"Your turn, big shot," he says.

Dook assesses the table. There's a solid yellow ball near a pocket, but he's not sure how to actually get it in there. He approaches the white ball, trying to mimic the pose he saw Beach Bear in. After a moment, he hits the ball– or, at least, tries to. His cue is unsteady, and it cants upwards, barely skimming the top of the ball. It rolls forward about an inch.

"You can retry if you want," Beach Bear tells him. Dook moves the ball back to where it started, trying again. This time, he's a bit more powerful, and while he still hits the side of the ball, it moves. It bounces off the wall of the table and lands gracefully in a pocket.

"Damn," he mutters. Beach Bear chuckles, retrieving it from the bottom of the table.

"Looks like I get to go twice again," he teases, placing it back on the table near one of his balls. But his confidence gets the better of him, and he manages to both miss the ball he was going for and land the white one in a pocket again. "Alright, well. Never said I was good at this game."

Dook laughs, taking the ball from him. He isn't sure where to place it, so he just puts it down near one of his balls. "How do you–?" He tries to line up the cue again, still not comfortable with the position.

"Here," Beach Bear says, "lemme show you."

Beach Bear moves behind Dook, wrapping his arms around him to help him into position. His size makes this no issue– he easily reaches Dook's hands and helps him adjust his grip on the cue. He's not fully behind him, slightly off to his left, but Dook can't ignore how it feels to have Beach Bear's whole body lean into him like this. He's so big, and warm, and soft... his fur, while covered by his clothes, still makes him feel almost plush to the touch. Dook would give anything to have this feeling last forever.

"Relax," Beach Bear says. "You're too tense with it."

"Ah– right," Dook says, trying to loosen up. It's hard when they're in this position. Beach Bear slides Dook's left hand forward on the cue, lifting it slightly upward to aim straight at the ball. His right hand clasps over Dook's right hand, pulling the cue back...

Dook's ball rolls smoothly into the pocket.

"We did it," Dook murmurs.

"Yeah!" Beach Bear says, finally pulling away. "Nice job, Dook."

"You did the whole thing for me," Dook says.

"I wasn't the one holding the cue." Beach Bear smirks. Dook flushes, and he finds himself thankful for the alcohol. At least it can serve as a cover for getting this flustered.

"You got real close," he says. "If I didn't know no better, I'd say the fake dating thing wasn't an act." He laughs, trying to make it clear he's joking. Is he joking?

Beach Bear doesn't respond to him directly, just gives him a knowing look. "It's your turn again."

Dook swallows, still unconfident in his own skills. "I, uh. I need help still," he says.

Beach Bear smiles. "Can't get enough of me, huh?" He jokes. "Alright, line up for me. I'll correct you."

Dook finds another ball to aim for and lowers himself toward the table again. It is starting to make more sense for him now, it's just a matter of practice. But he'll never refuse Beach Bear leaning over him and guiding his hands again. Jeez. He's not sure if it's his embarrassment or the wine that's making him feel this warm.

"You're already looking better," Beach Bear says from behind– he's not leaning on Dook this time, but he is leaning very close– he's talking quietly right into his ear. His left hand meets Dook's, guiding his aim. They pull back the cue...

"Oh–!" A voice says from the doorway. Dook hits the ball from reflex, and the 8 ball goes tumbling into the pocket. Game over. Betty stands there, quickly averting her eyes. "Goodness. I didn't expect I'd need to knock."

Beach Bear suddenly straightens at the sight of his mother, and Dook follows. "No need to knock," Beach Bear says. "I'm just helping Dook with his aim. He's never played billiards before."

Betty sighs, though the flush on her face is still there. "Of course. I just wanted to let you two know the room is ready, whenever you're ready for bed."

"The room?" Dook asks.

"Yes, your bedroom. Is there an issue?"

The two look at each other. Are they going to be sharing a bedroom? Did both of them forget to factor this in? Beach Bear shakes his head. "No issue here," he says. "Can you– uh– we should go there, now."

"R- right," Dook says.

"Yes," Betty concurs.

The two hastily put their cues back where they got them and follow Betty to the bedroom. Dook spares a quick glance at Beach Bear, and while he can't tell for sure, it looks like he's blushing, too.

They head upstairs and down a hallway– this place really is a mansion. After a few minutes, they finally reach the room. Betty opens the door for them, and the three file inside.

“M– Mom,” Beach Bear says, a dawning look of horror on his face.

The room is very clearly that of a little girl’s. The walls are covered in a pale blue, flowery wallpaper. The bed, while large enough for two adults, is covered in plushes and decorative pillows- a pink striped blanket covers the mattress. The walls are adorned with flower-themed decorations, crayon drawings, and a few band posters.

“You redid the game room, but… not my bedroom?” He asks. “In like, seven years?”

“Why would we?” Betty replies. “We wanted to preserve what was here. We love you, Baby Bear.”

Beach Bear all but winces at hearing that. What exactly are they preserving by keeping this the way it is? This isn’t Beach Bear at all. Whoever used to live in this room… they’re clearly gone, if they ever lived here at all. Dook looks at the way Betty beams at the sight of the room. She’s so wrapped up in protecting her daughter, she hasn’t realized in all this time that she doesn’t have one.

Betty pats Beach Bear on the shoulder. “Goodnight, honey,” she tells him, before leaving the room.

Beach Bear swallows, then sighs. “I’m, uh–”

“It’s okay,” Dook says, smiling shyly at him. “I don’t mind how the room looks.”

“I’m sorry about her, too.”

“Hey.” Dook nudges him in the arm, stopping himself just short of taking his hand. “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong. So you don’t gotta apologize for nothin’.”

Beach Bear smiles faintly. “Yeah,” he says. “We… still have to share a bed, though.”

“We don’t have to,” Dook suggests. “I could…” He eyes a plush looking chair in the corner. “I could sleep there.”

“Nah, I’m not gonna make you do that,” Beach Bear says. “We’ll just rough it.” He chuckles to himself, and approaches the bed. “It’s like camping. You gotta put up with tough shit sometimes, but it’s part of the fun.”

Dook follows him to the bed. “You doin’ okay? With everything that’s happened?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Beach Bear says, but Dook recognizes a twinge of that tired tone in his voice.

“...’Least we leave tomorrow,” Dook says.

Beach Bear smiles, the most genuine smile he’s seen from him all day. “Yeah,” he says. “Hope you don’t mind being my boyfriend until then.”

Dook snickers, climbing onto the bed. “Not if you don’t mind being mine.”

“Take your clothes off, you dweeb,” Beach Bear teases, hitting Dook with a pillow.

“Fine.” Dook pulls his shirt off. Margaret’s left their bags neatly opened by the window. Dook goes over to it and pulls out their pajamas. “I’ve never seen you wear pajamas,” he tells Beach Bear.

“Because I don’t wear pajamas,” he says. “I sleep in my underwear. But my parents would–”

“--hate that,” Dook finishes.

“Exactly. Gimme.” Dook tosses them over before changing into his own.

“Well,” Dook says, rejoining Beach Bear in bed. “One more day?”

“Half a day,” Beach Bear says. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” Dook gets comfortable under the covers as Beach Bear reaches for the light. Teasing each other about dating is fun and all, but the idea of actually sleeping in the same bed as Beach Bear makes Dook’s heart beat at a mile a minute. He’s a little afraid Beach Bear might actually be able to hear it. But there’s no time to question it– they’re already in bed together.

“Goodnight, ‘babe,’” Beach Bear says as he turns off the light.

Dook’s heart flutters. “Goodnight, honey.”

[keeshya6]

Last Chance

Chapter 3 - The Last Time They'd Bother Anyone

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Rating: M (Eventually will be E. 18+ only, minors dni!)

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: After a glimpse of things outside of Jackson, we continue Reader's conversation with Tommy, sharing a bit more, learning a bit more, and sparking more memories.

Content Warnings and general info: Canon typical violence, use of guns, brief non-con manhandling and intimidation (not from any known characters)

This chapter got even longer! Lol. I'm going to try to keep most chapters of this fic under 5k though, just as a challenge to myself.

Thank you so much for reading and liking! Any comments and reblogs are greatly loved and appreciated!

Also available on Ao3

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Chapter 3 - The Last Time They'd Bother Anyone

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The rifle shot cracks and rings out across the river valley, echoing in the quiet spring air. Birds take to the sky from the trees with cries of protest, flying every which way.

On the hill across the river, the last of the raiding party flies forward, propelled by his own momentum from running, and by the 7.62 round that tears into his back. He lands in a sprawl amongst the forest underbrush.

Joel watches the prone form for a full three minutes through the scope of his rifle, his cheek pressed against the smooth wood stock.

No movement. No sign of life.

"Fuck yeah, man!" Ellie hisses from behind him and Joel doesn't need to look back to know the expression of grim satisfaction that is on the teenager's face.

His own expression remains impassive.

Killing the last raider, from the group their patrol had been tracking, did hold a sort of satisfaction for him, but only in the same way that any job-well-done does. There's no joy in it.

Something needs done, Joel Miller does it. Simple as that.

Occasionally, he wonders if Ellie finds joy in these tasks, as her words might suggest, but he doubts it's actual enjoyment. Just satisfaction, like him, in seeing a job done that needs doing. A little overly enthusiastic satisfaction though, maybe.

The thought is a little concerning.

Jaded as he is, he doesn't want her to end up like him.

That's why he never lets the 16-year-old girl pull the trigger on another human, if he can help it. Even dangerous ones. Her hunting has been limited to animals and the occasional infected they come across.

Sure, he knows she's had to kill another human in self-defense. That was a while ago now though, and he just wants to avoid her having to again for as long as he can.

Which means he really shouldn't be letting her come along on these patrols, he knows. He also knows the trouble she's likely to get herself into in town if he leaves her behind.

A bored Ellie is rarely a good thing.

Besides, before too long she'll be an adult, able to join on patrols without his say if she wants. He figures the best he can do is try to show her how to survive out here in the meantime.

Satisfied that the last would-be raider is down for good, Joel pushes off of the fallen tree he was using as a rifle stand. He gives a soft grunt with the effort, wincing at the twinge in his knees. Then, brushing debris from his worn jeans, he turns to look at Ellie.

"Let's head back to the meet up," he says as he slings the rifle over his shoulder.

Ellie gives him a firm nod and a tight smile. "Okay," she replies. She glances past his shoulder, across the river to where the body lay, half hidden amongst the brush. "Should we see if he's got anything good on him?"

Joel shakes his head, not even bothering to look back. "No. We're not crossing that water. It's still freezin' cold."

Her expression shifts into a soft scowl as she tilts her head to look at the body again. She brushes back a few loose, wavy brown strands that fell out of her ponytail at some point. "Didn't seem to affect him," she comments.

Shrugging, Joel moves to walk past her and back towards where their horses are secured a short ways away. "He was desperate, runnin' on adrenaline. If he had gotten away, there's a good chance he'd have hypothermia or somethin' once the sun set."

Ellie falls into step with him, their boots crunching over leaves and twigs as they make their way through the trees. "Then why bother shooting him? Why waste the ammo?"

There's only a brief pause before Joel shrugs. "Because I could be wrong."

She considers that for a moment before nodding.

It only takes them about an hour to reach the rest of the patrol group, gathered back up at a cabin that is often used as a safe house for patrols, about a two-day ride west of Jackson. The group of eight had split up into pairs, going in different directions to track down the last of the raiding party that had escaped their ambush a couple miles to the south.

Ellie is quick to apprize the others of the success of their search and reassures them that the raider wasn’t going to be informing anyone else of Jackson’s existence, or bothering anyone ever again, for that matter.

Evan, an older man and one of Jackson's founders, gives a single, respectful nod to Joel as Ellie fills in the details. “Alright, folks,” he interrupts when the teenager takes a breath in her rapid rendition, “it sounds like we’ve done what we set out to do. It wasn’t pretty work, but it needed doin'. Let's hunker down here for the night and then head back to Jackson at dawn.”

They all nod or murmur in agreement and head into the large cabin, unrolling sleeping bags and discussing arrangements for keeping watch through the night.

—

After you both finish your drinks and chat a little longer, Tommy offers to walk you back to the small house that you were assigned when you arrived in Jackson.

Well, not immediately when you arrived. It had taken a day for you to be approved for a house, and to be released from the office kept by Jackson’s lone doctor.

At hearing that, as you both step out of the bar, Tommy stops short and frowns as he looks at you.

Shrugging into your jacket, to ward off the cool air of the evening, you pause to look back at him. “What?”

“Why were you at the doctor’s, Eeps?”

You blink a few times, looking down as you finish pulling on your jacket. “Well… um…”

Tommy steps a little closer, so he can duck his head down to catch your gaze with his own, as he stuffs his hands into his coat pockets. “Come on, Eeps…”

Your fingers fumble for a moment as you zip up and then you nibble at the edge of a nail. “Well, I nearly had frostbite from exposure… from that cold snap early last week,” you say. Then you heave a sigh, your mouth twisting to one side with your discomfort as you turn to start walking. “And… honestly, I’d taken a bit of a beating.”

Tommy's back straightens and he takes two long strides to your side, catching you by the arm and making you jump. He immediately releases you, hand up with his palm out. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says softly, before scowling, “but what do you mean by ‘bit of a beating’.”

You swallow roughly and stick your hands into your pockets. Your mouth opens and closes a few times with false starts, before you puff out a sigh and let the words tumble out. “I mean that, a few weeks ago, I ran into some bad folk, Tommy," you say, while giving a shrug as if it's no big deal. "They didn’t take too kindly to my attempts at getting away, and they made sure I knew it each time. It took three or four tries before my escape stuck… and that's only because of that patrol from Jackson that found me” you finish with another sigh, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice.

This isn't exactly your favorite topic to discuss, but you remember well enough not to argue with a Miller when one of them gets that concerned and determined look in his eyes.

He hesitates for a moment, his dark brows pulling together. “You’re the one that warned one of our council members about the raiding party nearby?” he asks gently.

After a moment you nod, turning to start walking again. “Yeah… 'suppose I was."

Tommy’s scowl deepens as he rakes his fingers through his long hair and then stuffs his hands back into his pockets, moving to walk beside you. “Well, fuck…”

You shrug and try to put on a reassuring smile as you glance over at him. “I’m fine now, Tommy. That doctor of yours took good care of me. Almost back to 100% here. Just a few bruises left.”

When he shifts his eyes back to you, the concern is still there, even though he nods. “Oh… yeah. Dr. Drevell knows his stuff. I ain't surprised.” His eyes move from you then to look down the road ahead, towards the town’s large wooden gates, his brows still pinched together.

Your head tilts to the side slightly, an eyebrow arching. “Then what’s that look for?”

He takes a deep breath and then exhales slowly, giving a rueful shrug. “Just realized that Joel’s out there, huntin’ the guys that were hunting you.”

Your eyes widen at that and your eyebrows reach up towards your hairline. “What?”

Tommy nods, kicking a rock down the road idly as you walk. “Yeah… that’s what we do when we hear about any pocket of raiders nearby. We go after them. Can’t have them finding out about Jackson and spreading the word. Seclusion helps keep us all safe,” he says, ending the statement with a shrug and looking up at the gate again.

You nod in understanding and then take a deep breath. That all makes sense. It’s an unfortunate, dark necessity. However, the look on his face has your anxiety amping up. “Okay. But, are you…” you start and then pause, swallowing against a lump in your throat. “Are you worried about Joel?”

He looks over at you and, after a moment, huffs a faint laugh. “No, Eeps. I’m more worried about the raiders.” At your confused expression, he lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. “You see, sometimes we offer a place here to a raider, but only if they seem like someone who isn’t so bad and just happened to fall in with the wrong people, you know?”

Your brows draw together into a scowl but you nod slightly. “Okay…”

“In this case,” he continues as his hand returns to his pocket, “I’m kind of hoping they are all assholes and that the patrol leader decides they just need to be taken out.”

You wait for him to continue, confusion still showing on your face as you both turn down a side road towards your house.

He glances at you and shrugs. “Mostly it's because of what they did to you,” he admits. “But also… if they bring even one raider back, and Joel finds out what happened to you? Well, I doubt there's anything that could stop him from tearing that person’s head off. Possibly literally.”

You stare at him for a few quiet seconds, blinking, and then look down at the road ahead of you. Your lips purse together as you take a slow breath, trying to work out a response.

After a minute of quiet, Tommy sighs and gives you a sad look, seeming to feel the need to fill the quiet again. “Yeah. Joel’s different, Eeps. Sometimes, he's… dangerous and, well, he scares some folk around here, honestly,” he says softly, hesitantly. Then his shoulders lift into another shrug. “But I guess it’s best for you to be aware of that now so it won't surprise you.”

Nibbling at your lip, you glance back towards Main Street and the gate.

When you look back at Tommy a moment later, there's a faintly sardonic smile tugging at your mouth. "What part of that was supposed to surprise me?"

Tommy stops walking in the middle of the street, his head at a sharp tilt and a perplexed scowl on his face. "What?"

You stop too, turning to face him and pressing your lips together for a moment as you consider your response. "He was always fiercely protective, Tommy, almost to a fault… especially of people close to him." A humorless smirk returns to your lips. "Why should it surprise me to learn that that quality has been…" –you pause to search for the right word– "amplified by the world falling apart?"

Tommy is still giving you a strange look, like this was the last response he could have expected.

You can't help chuckling a little as you turn to start walking once more and, after a second, Tommy does the same. "I think you're forgetting about the time Joel broke a guy's nose for me…"

Tommy's boots scuff along the ground as he stumbles for a step, and then catches himself with a faint laugh of his own. "Damn… I had forgotten about that. What was it? The guy got handsy, right?"

You nod, making a face of disgust and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. "Basically. Just think how it would have gone if he had actually hurt me."

Tommy gives a thin huff. "Yeah, he'd have been lucky to only have a broken nose." His cheeks puff out a bit as he blows out a slow breath. "But yeah… I guess you're right about Joel. Hadn't really thought about it like that."

You shrug, smiling faintly as you nod and turn down the path leading up to your door.

"I'm sure he is different, Tommy," you concede, as you both stop at the bottom of your steps and you face him. "But, really, who isn't?" You take a deep breath and exhale it in a long sigh before shrugging. "That's a risk I'll just have to take."

—

You could not believe that you were already going on your fourth date with Joel, and he still had not given you more than a sweet peck on the cheek.

That first date had gone well. Very well, actually. He really did want to make up for his previous blunder.

You were expecting something like dinner at a fancy restaurant, in an attempt to impress you.

Instead, he managed to surprise you.

First, when he picked you up, he had strongly suggested you change out of heels and into tennis shoes. Confused, but curious, you had done so, though you opted to stick with the flowy sundress. It was nearly June and the weather was perfect for it.

Then, he drove you downtown to the Austin Capitol Complex.

Realizing where you were, you had gotten excited, though you tried not to let it show too much. The area was said to have some of the most impressive, iconic, and historic architecture in Texas. You had been meaning to visit it ever since moving to Austin and just hadn't found the time yet.

Parking outside the closed Capitol Building, Joel had trotted around his truck to open your door and you couldn't help a soft giggle. Then, as he locked up the vehicle, he explained that the plan was pretty simple.

For starters: wander through the complex to show you a few of those historic buildings. None were open this late, but the exteriors were impressive all on their own.

You could hardly contain your eagerness.

At some point: eat the 'simple on-the-go dinner' of sandwiches that his 12-year-old had insisted on making for you both.

Okay, that was adorable.

To finish: grab a drink or two at a cozy little bar he knew of nearby, if you wanted to.

The more he explained, the more you couldn't help smiling.

This definitely wasn't the kind of date most guys would plan as a response to your challenge of "make it good."

Leave it to a contractor to know how to appeal to an architect.

You didn't end up making it to the bar that night, instead spending the entire time in the Capitol Complex. You were so enthralled as he led you through the area and you walked slowly around the old buildings. You discussed everything about the structures that you could think of: when they were built, how they were built, the design styles, what uses they'd had, design elements, flaws, historical events that had occurred at each one. Joel impressed you with the many questions he knew the answers to, and you were smiling so much throughout the night that your cheeks began to ache. (Several months later you would learn that he had actually studied from one of Sarah's history books for this date, cramming like it was the week before finals.)

It was nearly midnight before you made it back to his truck. Sitting on the tailgate, you both ate the sandwiches you had forgotten about until that moment, when you were both suddenly famished.

Then Joel drove you home, walked you to your door, and kissed your cheek.

Without a doubt, the best first date you'd ever had.

The second and third dates were more typical. You both were so busy that you decided to just steal a couple hours away for each one.

So, two weeks after the Capitol Complex, he took you out for a lunch date at a small Italian bistro. It was picturesque and the little, ancient, Italian man that ran it was an adorable and shameless flirt. You decided you loved it, and Joel joked about his new competition for your attention as he kissed your cheek and you said your goodbyes.

Another week passed before you met up to go see a movie.

Ever the gentleman, Joel offered to let you pick the film. You could see him squirm a little out of the corner of your eye when you paused at the poster for "Moulin Rouge!", but he clenched his jaw and kept quiet. After lingering at the poster for a few torturous moments, you took pity on him and asked the cashier for two tickets to "Gladiator".

When the tension drained out of Joel's shoulders, you couldn't help a laugh at his expense. He gave you a look that let you know just how much of a brat he thought you were, but there was still a smirk on his lips as he paid.

You just flashed him a bright, innocent smile in return.

For the first quarter of the movie you were a bit distracted as you leaned close to him and his arm ended up around you. He smelt like fresh cut grass and lumber, with a hint of whiskey and a dash of nicotine smoke. It was a blend you could definitely get used to. Then, you finally got lost in the story of the movie.

Afterwards, as the credits began to roll and you hastily tried to dry the tears from your eyes, Joel tilted his shoulder beside you and offered up his t-shirt sleeve to help. You only hesitated a moment before giving a rueful laugh and accepting. When you looked up at him, you were pretty sure there were even unshed tears shining in his dark eyes.

Then, once again, he had said goodbye with a peck to your cheek before you climbed into your car.

So, finding yourself on a fourth date, at a small club with Joel, Tommy, and Tommy's date, Carmen, you couldn't help wondering if you were just bad at flirting and Joel wasn't getting the hint that you really wanted more than a kiss on the cheek.

There were moments, just a heartbeat or two, when Joel would look at you with that easy smile you were quickly coming to adore, and you'd almost swear he was going to kiss you. The air felt like it was filled with electricity and warmth spread just beneath your skin like a wildfire.

But then conversation at the table would resume and the moment would pass.

You tried to not hold it against anyone at the table, especially Joel.

Maybe the timing just wasn't right.

Your group spent the evening back and forth between the dance floor and a tall table with your drinks. It turned out that Joel was a decent dancer, as was his brother, and you even danced with Carmen a couple of times.

It was almost midnight when the guys excused themselves to step outside for a smoke. You and Carmen both made playful faces of disgust at them and they just chuckled before disappearing into the crowd towards the exit. With a shared laugh, you and Carmen ordered another round of drinks for the table while you waited.

“Hey there, sweet stuff.”

You jumped with a squeak at the unfamiliar voice coming up at your side, and both you and Carmen looked over at the man with startled expressions.

He was tall and lanky, wearing dark jeans and a red silky-looking button up shirt with a black stetson hat. The whole look reminded you of Burt Reynolds in that old Smokey and the Bandit movie, except this guy didn’t have a mustache or the devastating good looks.

Stetson was giving you a swarmy smile and your stomach immediately turned a bit. You tried to put on a polite, but not overly friendly smile in return.

“I think you're confused. I'm not your sweet stuff,” you said and then turned to sip at your drink.

You could see his head tilt at that, exaggerated by the hat, out of the corner of your eye. “Now, there’s no call to be rude like that, honey. Just bein’ friendly.” He sidled up a little closer on the opposite side of you from Carmen, leaning an elbow on your table. “‘Sides, what’s a pretty thang like you doin’ here with that old guy anyway?”

You barely glanced at him with a frown. Then you pointedly turned away to face Carmen and tried to resume your previous conversation with her.

Maybe if you ignored Stetson, he’d go away.

And what did he mean by ‘old guy’ anyway? Joel wasn't that much older than you, and this guy wasn’t exactly 21 anymore either.

Before you could try to continue your conversation, Carmen’s eyes widened as she looked past you. You tensed and immediately looked back at the guy over your shoulder, to find him scowling at you, his face only a few inches away. It made you jump a little, spinning to face him and taking a step back.

“Don’t ya know it’s rude to ignore someone talkin’ to ya, gal?”

Fighting a panic rising in your chest, you took a deep breath, and immediately regretted it with the way his eyes darted down your cleavage. You stepped back again, closer to Carmen. “I’m not here with you, Sir. Please, leave me alone.”

His scowl deepened in response and the panic leapt up into your throat as you swallowed hard. Then, you tensed your jaw and lifted your chin a little. "You know what, Discount Burt? You can stay. In fact, have the table." You grabbed your small purse off the table and glanced at Carmen, reaching back for her hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Stetson's face was shifting to a shade of red and he started to respond, but you couldn't hear him over the crowd and music as you went bee-lining for the exit with Carmen.

Once outside, you took a deep breath of the cool spring air, eyes darting around for Joel and Tommy.

When the door of the club opened up behind you two, almost as soon as it closed, everything went to hell for a minute.

Later, you would remember things, like the sharp ache of Stetson's hand clamping down on your arm, yanking you backwards until you hit the wall next to the door with a yelp. Then there was the stab of fear as he boxed you in with a hand against the wall on either side of your shoulders, ignoring Carmen as she yelled at his back. And the scent of copenhagen chew would make you feel ill for a long while afterwards, from its scent assailing you as Stetson leaned in to snarl something into your face, even though you couldn't understand a word of it past the pounding of your heart in your ears. Stetson moved even closer then, until you couldn't see anything but his scowl and you could feel the pressure and heat of his body.

Later, those details would come back to you. In the moment though, everything happened in a blur.

Then, his body and his grimacing face disappeared in an instant.

It took a moment to orient yourself, gasping in a breath of fresh air.

The rapid sound of thuds, with the crunch of cartilage accompanying the third one, is what tugged you out of your daze. Your eyes snapped over to find Stetson –now minus the stetson– with his own back pressed up against the wall a few feet away. One of Joel's fists was tangled up in the collar of the other man's shirt, holding him up against the bricks with his forearm shoved against a collar bone. Joel's other fist was cocked back and flying, connecting again.

There was a look of fury on Joel's face that stole your breath away, with his jaw visibly clenched tight and the depth of his scowl deepening the lines between his brows. You couldn't help watching his face, a little wide eyed and lips barely parted as your breath stuttered.

After the fourth or fifth punch, Tommy pulled back on Joel's shoulder and hissed something at his brother that you couldn't hear. Joel's next swing faltered and he smacked his palm against the wall next to Sans-Stetson's head instead. A moment dragged out as Joel stared at the man, who whimpered and lifted a hand up to his gushing nose.

Then Joel's dark eyes swept over to you, and the anger melted off his features in an instant. It was quickly replaced by uncertainty as he glanced from you to Sans-Stetson and then back.

You could practically read his mind in that moment, his expression betraying his worry: did he just seriously fuck up and scare you?

Much to your own surprise, you realized that, no, he did not. Surprised? Yes. Scared? No.

You even let a tiny smile tug at your mouth, hoping it looks reassuring as you meet his eyes.

Tommy pried Joel's hand out of your assailant's shirt, saying something about I've got 'im, Joel, and Go take care of your girl.

Your stomach did a happy little flip at hearing that second one.

Tommy grabbed Sans-Stetson's stetson and started dragging him around everyone and back inside. You could hear him start saying something to one of the bouncers inside, before the door clicked closed again.

Meanwhile, Joel finally started moving towards you. His steps were hesitant, as if you were a rabbit ready to dash away.

So, when he was finally within an arm's length of you, you reached out to grasp the front of his shirt. His brows shot upward as you pulled. Of course, you just ended up pulling yourself closer, instead of the other way around.

Still, it had the desired effect and his arm was around you right away, like it was instinct, and your hands ended up between you, on his chest. Then, his other hand lifted to cup your cheek as he searched your eyes.

"Did he hurt you, Darlin'?"

Your tongue swept out to wet your lips before you softly bit down on the lower one, your eyes darting to his mouth for an instant before snapping back up to his eyes.

"No," you murmured, shaking your head. "You… you didn't give him time."

Concern crossed his features for a moment again and he was about to respond, until you lifted a hand to press your fingertips to his mouth to stop him.

Swallowing hard, your voice came out soft, as your eyes darted over his face. "No one's ever stood up for me like that before, Joel," you said, your fingers slipping away from his lips. "Thank you..."

You could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly too, and a faint smile pulled up one side of his mouth. "You're welcome…"

Here it was again: another of those moments that left the air feeling charged around you. Your breath caught in your chest before you realized it and sparks danced across your skin.

And the way Joel's eyes darkened, flitting across your face and lingering on your mouth for a moment before meeting your eyes again, you knew he was feeling it too.

Oh, fuck it!

You surged up onto your toes and captured his lips with yours.

[euphoricfilter]

YOONGI IN THE DAECHITWA AND AGUST D MVS! I want to request a drabble with daechitwa lore with one or both of the Yoongis in the daechitwa mv. (Am I being too selfish?? Lol) Maybe even add 2016 AGUST D and modern idol Yoongi. Idk I feel greedy lol. Omg this is long lol. If you say yes, I should prob send in a shorter ver for the reply lol.

Could do reincarnation, time travel, or something to see a lil of each version. Could do something more convenient like a genie/demon wish, a dream, or something that has 1-4 of the versions with mc. (Assuming mc isn’t in a relationship with any of them. This prob works best with mc and idol Yoongi with the wish for other versions hm.) Idk if this would be hard to write so maybe the next one would be better. But I’d like to read your version of daechitwa lore omg please! (Please add daechitwa lore to the other option somehow if you don’t do this one lol)

Or idol Yoongi who fucks mc during or after each of the mv recordings with his makeup and outfit on. (Both daechitwa looks ofc). Omg and now I’m thinking of adding a Tony Montana concert version too oh no lol. I think I want to add it please lol. (Maybe yes for the other option too if you do it) Quickies? Or not since it’s more fun to savor it idk. Maybe different things per time. Timeskip around. Kinda cute to think of how different they both might be as the years pass. (Oh no thinking about predebut/debut Yoongi too. This one is prob a no for both options? But could be nice aww) Or he role plays for her at their home as favors that mc needs to repay or as gifts. Maybe one version per day? Idk if Yoongi could realistically do it but that sounds nice lol. What if he breaks character during it lol

-🖤

OMG I LOVE ALL TJESE IDEAS

even if you just copy and paste them, put them into separate asks so that when i upload them i can post it straight from the request! and that makes my life a tiny bit easier if that’s okay?

i also have i think 17 requests at the moment but if i can stop procrastinating im gonna try and get one out today or tomorrow morning.. starting is always the hardest part for me

but i will get round to writing these ones as well because i love the ideas and there are so many possibilities for me to write, i think they’re gonna be a little longer LMAO i’ve been struggling to keep my requests around 4-5k because once i start writing my brain goes brrr and i just wanna write like 10k words to set the scene and have a real good plot line with all this flowery language to make it pretty— for these ones i might do that because they need a good story 🥲 i have another request that i wanna make a longer story as well because there’s absolutely no way i’m squeezing it into a drabble. that’s wasted potential

[howdaretrashships]

fic writing asks: 11, 19, and 27?

11. Do you have specific playlists for writing fics?

I've thought about putting together a playlist but it just seems like too much work. Typically I just pick a song or artist and have YTMusic playing in the background. If I don't know the songs playing then I can't sing along and get distracted, and if I really like a new song I add it to a list to look up later.

19. Give a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

Ooh, but which one? Hmm, well I currently have parts 2 and 7 open of my Prince/Bodyguard AU... So have a little of Part 2:

When the three reach the Southern Gate, his master bids his farewells to Eunuch Liu then turns back to Di Feisheng to give him a last warning. “Protect the prince well, Di Feisheng. I expect you’ll make me and your xiongdi from Di Fortress proud.” The words are what you would expect from master to disciple – or master to servant – and their audience shows no sign that he is hearing anything out of the ordinary. But Di-zhuren accompanies his words with a subtle movement of his hand. As if he were ringing the bell that usually hangs at his waist. An order. With consequences, should he fail. “As you command, zhuren,” he replies as he bows, his eyes respectfully lowered.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

Uh all of them? Lol, no but really. It's always a little nerve-wracking to post something. Will people like it? Will they hate it? If they hate it are they gonna be mean about it?

(so far i have been very lucky and not received any hate about my writing, fingers crossed that continues)

But I think there are two I was actually really nervous about posting and that's my 1st KP fic, that got me back into writing after an 8 year dry spell. And Which Moment which is the longest fic I've ever written, has smut (that alone made me more nervous), and has a non-linear structure (which I had never attempted before). I spent about a month writing it and I got both excited and anxious as it grew. First to 5k, then 10k, then 15k...

But even though I was really nervous and I had to stop myself from checking my email for an entire day, it got a great response. Which definitely helped my confidence. And I got a new writing bestie, who has been the greatest cheerleader and sounding board!

Thanks for the ask!

Fic writer asks

[sweet-little-dude]

hi hi taku my love!! <3 this is the k polycule ask plus i remembered that i’ve been writing a bajiharu fic and i also wanna talk about that hehe. actually i’ll talk abt that first bc the k polycule is all happy and the bajiharu fic.... not so much. and you deserve healing :)

btw btw beware this is long. really long. i copied this message into a wordcounter and it’s 1.5k without the paragraph you’re reading rn... whoopsies. i insaned a little on my ramble. do tell me if i should shorten it bc it’s too long, and take all the time you need to reply afhjfdgjjgdfh

so okay the bajiharu (baji x sanzu just in case that’s not clear for some reason) wip is currently sitting at 15k and. wtf man 15k ?? i wrote that ?? damn. anyways idk how many of my posts abt it you’ve read but it’s p much a giant character/relationship study of the two. basically bajiharu across the years and timelines. canon compliant too, which sadly means that baji is dead most of the time but oh well. it is VERY angsty (i mean baji is dead that’s where the angst is starting already... and i mean sanzu’s canon life) and uh. i keep describing sanzu dying in nearly every future timeline but i’m having a ton of fun :D also it’s gonna be angst with a happy ending when i’m finished and probably around 30k words. a 30k one-shot. i don’t think i can even chapter it.... welp. accidents happen. yk this was supposed to be a maximum of 5k of bajiharu in the og shin timeline (the one in which he lives and mikey has the accident and ends up dying and stuff) and the final timeline but. uhh. uhm. yeah honestly idk what i did but my brain wouldn’t let go of them so here we are lol

i would summarise the plot of the fic but there hardly is one ?? like it’s just random excerpts from their lives. i mean some of them are like 3k long too and def have plots in and of itself but there’s no greater plot to be summarised 😭

tho what i can say is that they actually are somewhat together in the og timeline and they are.. happily together. they are NOT happy in fact they are miserable but they love each other in a tender way yk. but but they WILL be happy in the final timeline. and happily together too!! i just need them to be happy pls okay thanks. in between baji is dead so not many feelings on his part (😭😭) but sanzu is a miserable wet cat. also i have the most tragic death planned for him in the bonten timeline bc i am a ‘‘weird on-off-ish romance-ish but they don't wanna admit it's that even though it very obviously is and there is so much emotional (and sexual) tension and my god how can they live like this’’ bonten rinzu truther. wowie. and wouldn’t it be really fun if rindou accidentally shot sanzu on a mission gone heavily wrong that ends in sanzu dying in his arms? yeah <3

also!! akashi siblings!! i very much plan on writing abt them too in some timelines. specifically i think i’ll have sanzu move in with senju in the manila timeline before mikey kills him off (i am so excited to write this you don’t know istg) and i’ll have him move back in with takeomi in that one timeline in which izana takes over and naoto & takemichi end up dying in the future bc i hc that senju was shot dead in the past and sanzu has nowhere else to go after mikey’s death (bc he’s actually dead in that future...) so yeah. akashi siblings <3

also in case you wonder what my current 15k cover so far (i’m forcing myself to write chronologically for once bc i really wanna finish this and i’ve got a lot of scenes i’m excited to write i can use to push through the others), it’s the og timeline, the timeline in which draken gets killed by kiyomasa, one of the two following timelines in which draken survives and ends up on death row (i decided to cut one of them bc imo they’re too similar to write abt again), and some past stuff happening before that. which. is not a lot. just now realising how unmuch that is actually wtf it feels like sm more- okay anyways i plan on writing about the bad toman timeline with takemichi as executive, the manila future, bonten future, the future timeline after that with izana, and naoto & takemichi dying, possibly some tenjiku timeskip stuff, and then ofc the final timeline. (i. i gotta say i hope those 30k aren’t lowballing it by like 10k bc if you consider that i’ve written for three timelines plus some inbetween bits and i’m planning for another five whole timelines with inbetween stuff-- ayayay bajiharu is gonna be the death of me)

uhm this is already mUCH longer than planned help buuuut some k polycule stuff bc i love them and they love each other and they are happy. okay so ik you read my posts abt them so i’ll just start with them in their mid/late thirties, finally settled down somewhere they feel safe and they actually like :3 cough cough switzerland mayhaps ? cough cough. yk it can’t be japan anyways... and switzerland is far away...... and i know it well....

okay. they adopt a cat. or maybe two. probably two actually. two cats for them bc they’d like some company other than themselves and kazutora loves cats anyways. i believe that koko is actually more of a dog person bc inupi, but he’s the type of guy to go ‘‘ofc YOU GUYS can get a cat. it’s gonna be YOUR cat. YOU will have to take care of it. i won’t (unless absolutely neccessary.)’’ and then a month or smth after they get a cat kazutora & kakucho are away for a weekend for.. work or smth idk and when they get home koko & the cat are sleeping on the couch while he’s hugging the cat close to his chest, and there’s cat toys all over the floor bc he spent hours playing with the cat. he will still refuse to admit how much he loves the cat but he continues to play and snuggle with it whenever his bfs (husbands? i feel like they’d wear matching wedding rings and call each other husbands even if they legally aren’t bc poly marriage is forbidden) aren’t there to see. also this is really random but kakucho is the small spoon, kokonoi the middle spoon, and kazutora the big spoon. or two of them just sleep hugging the third person.

kazutora would work at a pet shop again i think. maybe he’d even study medicine to become a vet assistant? tbh i’ve always seen him doing that more than chifuyu or baji (tho i love vet student baji too <3). struggling with giving the other two jobs bc after bonten i don’t think kakucho would still want to work with kids (tho i def see him doing some kind of charity work in his free time) and kokonoi... he can’t sponsor anyone like this nor could he do finances for anyone, and he would never ever work at a bank. he’d still like a high paying job/smth at least loosly related to money tho. maybe like some sort of secretary for someone in finances? idk. very open to ideas for these two bc well i am stuck lol.

i think they’d mostly just try to take it slow and enjoy their more peaceful lives now (well kazutora’s life was pretty peaceful before too.. but kokonoi & kakucho) without having to worry about illegal and dangerous and whatnot else stuff. they deserve it okay they all had to go through too many things 😭

also more random stuff about them. kokonoi is banned from the kitchen not because he’s a safety hazard or because he burned down the kitchen once or smth but because he keeps wanting to cook overly expensive gourmet foods, and while they do taste good they are way too expensive and take way too much. plus he HATES having other people in the kitchen with him (he straight up locks them out) and refuses to leave the kitchen while he’s cooking even if he has to wait two hours for something to slowly simmer on low heat so essentially he AND the kitchen are gone for half a day if he wants to make dinner. he doesn’t really mind the kitchen ban though so it works. i think kakucho enjoys cooking the most, but he and kazutora both cook a lot. and sometimes kokonoi forces himself to wake up extra early on weekends (like. 6am. and then he’s done at 7am. and the other two wake up at 9am when early, more like 10am to 11am bc weekend and kokonoi has to wait with his beautifully prepared breakfast for hours) to make pancakes for them all <3

uhh that’s everything in my brain rn i think. i hope. and this is already a fucking essay so whoopsies. anyways that was it, i very much hope you enjoyed my long ass rambles <3 fr fr i missed writing these rambles for you,, but aa i can do that again!! :D

hello elys my love <333 but allg!! i actually read this whole thing a few days after u sent it initially but ive been rlly drained these past like 3 weeks so i hadnt been able to get to it :(( apologies again my love

no cuz fr 15k crazy!!!!! good job!!! no cuz like that lil description of ur rinzu is actually so real.... (this is making me miss my tokyorev hyperfixation so bad ngl) but ur bajiharu fic sounds so good!! the idea and concept of it is so well thought of i applaud u so muchhh

NO CUZ FR WRITING ABT THINGS UR FAMILIAR WITH >> its like u know it so fuckin well which means u can go into rlly good amounts of detail like !!!!!!!!!! ok so first paragraph is so :333 koko being a softie for the cat is so sweettttt omg

i think the jobs u chose for them are good !! suits them all very well but yes agreed they most definitely deserve it <33

ofc its kokonoi doing that, but u cant blame him fr hez just being a good husband </3333

it was fun having this in my inbox again !!! i miss doing these too and i hope the late reply doesnt discourage u <333

[asonofpeter]

Prince Charming

Pairing: Dark!Best Friend!Mob!Peter Parker x Barnes!Reader

Summary: After your father can no longer protect you, you are arranged to marry your best friend.

Warnings: sexism, misogyny, talks and mentions of the mob/gangs, arranged marriage, mentions of killing, bullying and blood mentions in flashbacks, Reader is spoiled, mentions of anxiety and nervousness, smut (18+) MINORS DNI, face sitting, oral f receiving, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), loss of virginity, breeding kink, housewife kink?, although this is a dark fic, all smut will be consensual, still your media consumption is your own, read warnings before proceeding

Word Count: 12092

A/N: I'm finally back! I've been working on this for a while and I'm so happy I finally wrote it! I honestly thought this was going to be 5k words yet here we are lol! I hope you all like it! Enjoy! 💕💕💕

Disclaimer: Reader is adopted by Bucky Barnes in this story, she is not biologically related to him. The photos used in the moodboard are also just my depiction of Reader and do not translate to how she is described in the story.

My work should not be copied, reposted, or translated with out my permission; I don't consent to it.

Peter walked along behind you, replying to emails and messages, and even answering a call once while you browse the many selections of luxury shoes. He nodded and hummed to each pair you liked and was glad when you finally selected a few to try on.

Breathing out a laugh, he loved the way your eyes sparkled when you kicked your current heels off and tried the new ones. Some were it and others not, but Peter was more than happy to share his opinion.

Especially when you kindly ask for it.

“I think these are cute,” you smiled, modeling the cheetah print red-bottoms to your best friend. “What do you think?”

He sat comfortably on the white leather bench they had in the middle of the store. His legs spread out wide while he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. You studied him as he thought about your choice of footwear.

Eyes were squinted in thought as he recalled all the other pairs you tried on. He knew which ones you already had on your list to purchase, you did have your father’s money to spend after all. And he knew what pairs you already owned, cheetah print not being one of them.

“The white ones seem more like you,” he referred to the last pair you tried on, rubbing his hand along his thigh as he straightened up a bit.

You liked those too, figured you could pair them with a nice dress or skirt. On the other hand, the cheetah print ones were fun and something you didn’t necessarily choose.

“But what about these?” you asked once more, wanting to know his exact opinion on the current heel you wore.

“I like them too,” he answered, breathing out a sigh, he knew you already had your heart set on getting those as well. “But, they’re not you,” he shrugged, a frown forming on your face when the words slipped past his lips.

Peter was always brutally honest when it came to what looked good on you. Hell, he had amazing taste and over the years you’ve come to realize he had a preference in what you wore.

“What do you mean?” you asked, brows furrowed, you glanced back down at the shoes, wondering how they’re not you. You loved heels, they were totally you.

“I just can’t picture you wearing them,” he explained, offering a small smile to deflate the blow. “But they are nice,” he added, seeing that he kinda hurt you.

The crease in your forehead only grew as you studied them in the mirror again, shifting from one foot and angling them in different positions. They were cute, dainty, and stylish- they checked all the boxes of your criteria, so how could Peter not see you wearing them?

Glancing back at Peter, he stared at you. He was waiting for you to make your decision and now seeing as he gave you his honest opinion, you considered that maybe he was right. He wouldn’t waste his breath if it weren’t true.

They just weren’t you.

“I’m not gonna get them,” you confirmed, reaching to take them off. “I’ll just get the white ones and the mauve,” you said, putting them back in the box, ready to return them to the kind saleswoman.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stood up, blocking you from walking to the cash register. “I’m sorry, let me buy them for you,” he gently took the box from you.

“I’m not going to let you do that, I made up my mind already,” you argued, trying to grab the shoebox back, but he held it out of your reach.

“Princess,” he cooed, eyes softening as he stared at you. He smiled when you grew coy, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear while you cleared your throat. “I’m buying you these shoes,” he said in a more demanding tone.

“Okay,” you agreed defeatedly.

He passed you a smile before he helped you with the other shoes. The kind saleswoman waited patiently for the two of you, most likely knowing who Peter is and who your father is.

But she presented a warm smile when Peter slid the box of the cheetah print shoes over to her, her delicate hands placing them in a bag while adding them to the transaction.

“I’d also like to buy these as well,” he placed a hand on the two other boxes, the lady nodding all-knowingly before she read out the total amount, your stomach dropping- you couldn’t let Peter buy you three pairs of shoes.

“Peter,” you reached for his hand that already had his black card at the ready. “I just said the one pair,” you looked at him warily.

“Don’t worry about it, princess,” he waved you off, inserting his card before signing, the purchase complete.

Grabbing the bags from the counter, he gathered them along with the other bags you’ve collected from your purchase in previous stores and walked along your side out of the store.

“You’re too kind to me, Peter,” you finally said while you adjusted the few small bags in your hand, the bustling streets of New York filled your ears as you made it back to the car. He kindly opened the door for you before placing the bags in the back of his Lamborghini. “Where to now?”

“Unfortunately, princess, I have a meeting to attend with your father in an hour,” he sighed, shutting the door after him as he checked his watch for the time. “But I had fun as always,” he smiled genuinely, starting the car up.

“We have enough time for brunch,” you shrugged, passing him your best puppy dog eyes.

“I guess we do,” he breathed out a laugh when you squealed from excitement.

~~~~~

Seated outside the cute little restaurant in New York, the late morning sun shone on both of you. You read the menu, unsure of what to get. Usually, when it came time for brunch, you had more of a sweet tooth so your eyes were focused on the pastry section.

“Do you think you’re going to the gala this weekend? We missed you at the last one,” Peter questioned, pulling you from your thoughts.

Peeking over the menu, you caught him staring at you, wearing that adorable bright smile that sent butterflies to your stomach each time. Although, you always ignored them.

He was your best friend and your father’s ally- you couldn’t interfere with business.

“Yeah,” you sighed, placing the menu down. “It’s gonna be boring as always though, especially since you always leave me,” you leaned back in your seat, crossing your knees over the other under the table.

Galas were never an unusual occurrence in your life. One thrown almost every week for something you didn’t care enough to remember. Even though you had no intentions of joining the mob, being the daughter of Bucky Barnes made it difficult to separate that part from your life.

He was the most notorious man in all of New York, branded for his metal arm that he may or may not use to choke the life out of his victims. But underneath that emotionless thick layer was your loving father.

The man that adopted you as a baby and raised you as his. He cherished you, made you his whole world. Which led to the woman you are now.

“But the time I’m with you is always enjoyable,” Peter pointed out, sending you a toothy grin.

“You’re going to be busy networking with other mob leaders the majority of the time, I’m with you for like five minutes,” you stated, a chuckle ringing from him. “Besides, don’t you think it’s time you bring someone other than your friend?” you raised a brow, earning another chuckle from Peter.

“What are you trying to say?” he rested one hand on the table, fingertips centimeters from yours. His calloused hands are a complete juxtaposition from your perfectly manicured ones.

“That it’s time for you to get a girlfriend,” you answered, raising your brows and you reached your hand an inch forward to grasp his hand. “You need someone to ground you back to Earth when you get all hot-headed from work,” you joked, Peter rolled his eyes at your comment.

You saw the way he wanted to avoid this topic. You’ve brought it up countless times when you’ve realized he’s never been in a committed relationship. Even though you seem to have the same problem… but Peter was your main concern right now.

He only stared at your hand for what seemed like forever, but his eyes landed on yours only a few moments later.

“I have you for that, you ground me and I love having you as my date,” he affirmed. “Besides, what about you?” he cocked a brow, catching you off guard.

“Well, my time hasn’t come yet,” you said, shrugging, pulling your hand away.

His hand lingered on the spot yours was seconds ago before he cleared his throat, pulling it back near him.

“Waiting for the right guy, y’know?” you added and he nodded slightly.

Playing the waiting game was your forte. Someday you wish you’ll meet your Prince Charming. A man that will provide for you and protect you, be an amazing father to your children, and give you the respect you deserve.

Some days it seemed like that time would never arrive.

“What if mine hasn’t arrived either?” he tilted his head to the side. “Or maybe I’m just trying to play my cards right?” he shrugged, a glint in his eyes when you smiled wider.

Of course, you said to yourself, head bursting with excitement.

“Who is she?” your eyes lit up at the mention that he might have a girlfriend. “Do I know her? Is she cute? She’s probably cute,” you rambled on, telling him you have to meet her one day, Peter only laughed across the table.

“You know her,” he nodded. “But that’s all I’m going to say,” he stated firmly.

“No, don’t leave me hanging like that,” you whined, Peter shook his head not saying another word.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he partially apologized.

“You’re going to have to stop calling me that if you ever want to get a girlfriend,” you cocked a brow, Peter’s brows raising in amusement.

“Not on my list of priorities, princess,” he grinned before sipping his mimosa.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, the name he’s been calling you since high school made your stomach flutter. But you were willing to let go of the nickname if that meant he finally settled down, even as much as you would miss the way it fell from his lips.

~~~~~

In the following days, Peter had taken you dress shopping for the upcoming gala this week. You ended up picking one that would go perfectly with the mauve shoes you bought earlier. And with Peter being your second mind of judgment, you were quite happy with the selection.

Twirling in your new dress, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, recalling the events that took place only days ago.

“Wow, princess, that’s by far my favorite,” he sat up when you pulled the curtain of the changing room back. His face radiated with admiration and his compliment made your cheeks burn.

“I love it,” you admired yourself in the mirror, loving how the material sat perfectly on top of your assets. “But I’m torn between this one and the brown one,” you huffed. “And I’ve already reached my limit for the week, Dad’s not going to be happy about that,” you bit your lip in thought.

“Let me buy them for you, wear the other one for another day” he proposed. “Mind as well treat my date right,” he stood up, stepping onto the platform to meet you. “Gotta have her in the prettiest dress,” he grabbed your hand, guiding you into a spin.

“You’d do that for me?” you gazed at him, faces inches apart.

“I’d do anything for you,” he grinned, eyes darting to your lips for a quick second.

You loved Peter with all your heart. He was sweet, caring, smart, and charming. There weren’t many men like him and you felt envious of the woman who was going to end up with him. But you just prayed and hoped that the man you fall in love with is just an ounce like him.

For now, though, you’ll be enjoying Peter being your date to events, feeling safe in his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Doll, you look beautiful,” your father smiled as you made your way down the stairs. “Is that a new dress?” he asked, taking your hand to help you with the last step.

“Peter bought it for me a few days ago,” you smiled, letting him place your fur shawl on your shoulders before looping your arm with his.

The way your father’s eyes lit up at the mention of your best friend was always amusing to you. There weren’t many people he liked, but Peter was able to place himself at the top of the list. From the beginning of your friendship in high school, after he beat up a boy for making fun of you, your dad knew Peter had to be kept around.

And he did, from that moment to college to now- your father has always seen Peter as your protector for when he wasn’t around. Not to mention the fact that Peter also came from a wealthy family and now is the leader for the Parker mob- it was impressive in his eyes.

Reminds him of when he was young.

“He’s a good man, I tell you,” he patted your hand. “I’d be lucky if I get to call him my son-in-law one day,” he sent you a look but you playfully rolled your eyes.

“He’s my best friend, Dad, nothing more,” you cocked a brow, stepping inside the elevator of the penthouse before you made your way downstairs where the chauffeur awaited the two of you.

The brisk air still shocked you even after living in New York for so long. The transition from winter to spring left some really warm mornings to colder nights. But as soon as you sat in the car, you relaxed when the warm air surrounded you.

Passing the buildings and skyscrapers of the city, the bright luminous lights allowed you to see inside the car and you glimpsed at your father who was staring worryingly at his phone. Your face fell and you knew something was off, but you also knew better than to ask questions.

Getting distracted, you saw you arrived at the gala, the door opened by the valet and your father graciously helped you out of the car before you were escorted to the lobby.

Your eyes instantly searched for that brown-headed man. Too preoccupied with that, your father chuckled as you wandered off, his hand reaching out to stop you so you could give the lady at the coat check your shawl.

Letting out a small “oh”, you passed her a smile. Your arms felt bare and a small breeze chilled the room. It was the entrance and with all the bodies filing in, it made sense. Just then, you felt a warmth rush through you when you felt a pair of hands on your skin.

“Princess, you look breathtaking,” he complimented, turning you around to face him to take in your appearance. He licked his lips softly, eyes so focused on every inch of your body.

You were too intent on taking in his appearance to notice. The navy suit that fit him so well, he looked sharp and you loved that he corresponded with you. Scanning your eyes upward, you landed on his face, his eyes staring at your lips again.

Smiling, he seemed to knock himself out of his trance and send you a sheepish smile. He didn’t think he’d get caught, but he composed himself quickly, adjusting his suit jacket.

“Ready to head in?” he nodded towards the door, taking your arm to loop with his.

“Yeah, let’s head in,” you replied, picking up the skirt of your dress and walking down the steps to the main ballroom.

Your father had already joined everyone else in the gala, most likely joining Sam and Steve for a quick catch-up before they divulged in business.

Peter had led you to your seats, a table sat in the corner of the ballroom by the entrance. Everyone seemed to gather in the middle, men talking amongst one another and the woman hanging on their arms as they smiled and nodded along.

Enjoying your time by tracing your fingers along the lines of his palms, it was quickly disrupted when his henchman approached, whispering something in his ear before he left. Sending you an apologetic look, you sent him one of understanding.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting you know he’ll be back before he walked out the backdoor.

Deciding a drink will pass the time quicker, you made your way to the bar. Ordering a cosmo, you took a seat at the end of the bar, the bartender making your drink quickly and the tart taste of cranberry juice hitting your tongue put you at ease.

Only for two seconds though.

Resting your head on your chin, you sat at the table, waiting for dinner to start so your father and Peter could come back. But checking the time on your phone, you realized that would be another hour at most.

Sighing, you decided to check your phone for any new emails on shop coupons or rewards you’ve received. Sadly, nothing was new and you were now scrolling through Instagram.

“You know a party is boring when the prettiest girl is on her phone,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Straightening up, you looked over your shoulder to find a blond guy smiling at you.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the barstool next to yours.

“Sure,” you passed a smile, swiveling in your seat so you’re facing him. “What’s your name?”

“Harry, Harry Osborn,” he greeted. “And you’re Y/N Barnes, a pleasure to finally meet you,” his grin grew wider, blue eyes meeting yours as he gently took your hand and kissed the top of it.

Charming.

“You know who I am,” you tilted your head to the side as you felt yourself blush.

“How can I not? My father’s been working for your dad for as long as I can remember,” he let out a laugh, somewhat offended at your surprise.

“Ah, yes, Norman Osborn, don’t know how I didn’t make the connection,” you sucked in a breath, grabbing your glass for another sip.

Harry was a handsome guy, he seemed kind and was easy to talk to. You liked the aura he gave off, very relaxed yet confident.

“I rarely catch you here, you usually don’t make an appearance,” he leaned a bit towards you, sending you signals that he was intrigued.

“Galas are kinda boring, my father and best friend always leave me to go talk business, so I’m left by myself,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well, now I’m here,” he smiled.

“I’m glad,” you flirted. “Not so lonely anymore.”

“If it weren’t for the open bar, I’d buy you a drink,” he smirked. “So how about I take you out?” he suggested, raising his brows.

“Hmm, keep talking and I’ll answer your question,” you giggled when he took on the challenge.

For the next fifteen or so minutes, you were talking with Harry about anything and everything. He cracked jokes here and there, making you laugh- to which he thinks is the most beautiful sound ever. The conversation was going so well and you were about to agree on his offer.

Unknown to your knowledge though, Peter strolled back into the main area after having a chat with a potential alliance. It went incredibly well and he was on his way back to the table to tell you all about it, but you were gone.

With a quick panic, he thought the worst, but he instantly heard your laugh. Thankful that you were safe, he still saw something he didn’t want to see. With a nasty taste left in his mouth, he stalked over to you and the strange guy.

“Princess thought I lost you,” Peter came up, pressing a kiss to your cheek that caught you by surprise.

“I got bored sitting at the table,” you frowned at him, his arm finding itself wrapped around your waist. “Ew, you smell like smoke,” you pinched your nose, pressing against him in an attempt to push him away but he didn’t budge.

You desperately hated the smell of smoke and ironically the two most influential men in your life smoked heavily.

“Who’s this?” he ignored you, staring at the guy with a hard gaze.

“Harry Osborn,” he introduced himself, offering a hand which Peter shook with a tight-lipped smile. “And you are?” he asked, wondering who the man that kissed you was.

“Her boyfriend,” Peter replied, your eyes widening in shock. “If you don’t mind,” he glanced between the two of you.

Without another word, Harry got up and left.

So much for meeting new people, you figured.

“Peter! Why would you say that?!” you smacked his arm, but he only rolled his eyes.

“Let’s just go back to our table, dinner should start soon,” he grabbed your hand and arm.

You let out a huff as you sat down, crossing your arms over your chest in defeat. Peter only sighed at your attitude, but to offer an apology, he placed his hand in your lap, hoping you’d continue to play with his fingers like before.

Gazing at him, you only scoffed at his hopeful eyes before crossing your legs, tilting your body opposite of him.

As everyone gathered back to the ballroom, taking their seats, your father appeared again, sitting right beside you and he was fast to notice your change in demeanor.

“What’s up with you, doll?” he furrowed his brows.

“She’s mad because I said I was her boyfriend,” Peter cut in, your eyes widening when he spoke over you again.

“I was talking to a guy and Peter shows up thinking he has some ownership of me,” you corrected, your father cocking a brow towards Peter.

“Sir, it was Harry Osborn,” he leaned forward, whispering his name. “I had to,” he shrugged.

And while your father understood that explanation, you were still lost.

“Peter did the right thing,” your father patted your knee in reassurance, but that only made you madder.

Semi-luckily, Peter saw through you.

“Harry Osborn is bad news, his father works for your dad but there are rumors he steals shipments,” he leaned towards you, taking your hand cautiously. “Your dad and I are trying to figure that out,” he elaborated, your gaze falling to your lap where your intertwined hands were.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” you frowned. “I’m so stupid, I’m sorry,” you groaned as you leaned into your chair, cringing at your idiocy, but divulging in the feeling of Peter’s thumb rubbing circles on the top of your hand made you feel better.

“No need to apologize, princess, I’m just glad nothing happened to you,” he pressed a smile before kissing your knuckles reassuringly.

“Me too,” you admitted.

~~~~~

“Are you sure you can’t even come over just for a little bit?” you asked, holding the phone up to your ear.

“I’m so sorry, princess, work has been hectic,” Peter explained on the other side of the phone.

You frowned and even though he couldn’t see, he knew you were sad.

“I just miss you, I haven’t seen you since the gala,” you trailed, walking into the kitchen to grab a snack. “When can I see my best friend again?” you asked, leaning against the marble countertop.

“As soon as I finish this deal with your father, then I’m all yours,” he hummed and you heard him file through different stacks of paper on his desk.

“Promise?” a smile grew on your face.

“Promise,” he reassured before hanging up.

A sigh left your lips as you shook with anticipation. You missed Peter dearly and the penthouse just seemed so bare without his presence. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. And so much so that you heard your father calling you to his office down the hall.

You made your way down, the soft orange glow coming from the ajar door leading you the way down the hall. Your father was seated in his black leather chair while he signed some papers, most likely shipment logs and inventory.

Walking in, you instantly felt the temperature change. The shudder that escaped your lips alerted him of your presence, a small smile making your way to your face when you grabbed the sweater you always kept in there.

“Hi, Dad,” you greeted before you took a seat in front of him, crisscrossing your legs.

“Hi, doll,” he passed a bright smile, but his eyes didn’t seem to match it. “I got some news for you,” he began.

“What’s wrong?” you already sensed that this wasn’t going to be something you enjoyed.

“It’s nothing bad, but I do want you to keep an open mind,” he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

Nodding along, you weren’t sure how hard that was going to be, but you wanted him to go on.

“You’re my daughter, Y/N, I’ve raised you as such but as you’ve grown I’ve made a lot of enemies,” he began, eyes dropping after they met your curious ones for a split second. “And because you’re not my blood, they won’t have a problem harming you,” he trailed, your brows furrowing when you listened to him.

“What does that mean, Dad?” you asked, gulping as you grew nervous.

“I can’t protect you anymore, doll,” he confessed, his gaze falling on yours. His stare was calm, eyes turned cold. You could sense the pain in them and he was fighting to conceal it when tears poured into his eyes.

“What’s going to happen to me?” you questioned, thinking he was either going to kill you or throw you out into the streets.

“If my enemies can’t see that you’re mine, blood or not, I have to ensure your safety through other means,” he started. “I have arranged for Peter to marry you,” he stated, your heart plummets.

Shaking your head you were quick to argue. You didn’t want to marry anyone, even if it was your best friend. It was too weird, too soon. There has to be another way.

“But, I’m your daughter,” you teared up. “You can’t do that,” you shook your head, body racking in cries as you wept. “You kill people for a living and you’re going to stop when my life is on the line?!” you began to hyperventilate.

“If they ever lay a hand on you, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill, but there’s too much risk involving this,” he stood up. “They’ll twist the words and make me the bad guy, risking your life even more,” he stalked closer to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your shoulders. “Peter will protect you, he always has and if you’re his wife, they’ll accept that,” he tried to convince you.

Shutting your eyes, you tried very hard to pretend this was a nightmare. Your father would never do this to you because you’re his daughter, blood or not. Bucky Barnes, the man that has held a notorious image for so long in New York and even across the country would never give up so easily.

He took down rival gangs in one night, he’s killed people without hesitation, he’s built an empire that many fear- how was he simply throwing you away?

“But he’s my best friend,” you cried into your hands, trying to rip away from your father’s hold.

You were angry, confused, terrified. Especially towards him.

He wasn’t the man you remembered throwing you princess-themed birthday parties up until you were eleven, the man that tucked you in every night, the man that handed you a thousand dollars every morning “just in case” even though you had his card in your wallet already; the literal man who picked you off the streets and raised you as his own.

“You can’t make me marry him,” you trembled when you look back at him, but your breath instantly caught in your throat.

He was crying, actually crying. Bucky Barnes was crying. All because of you.

“This was the only way, too many people have already threatened your life and I don’t know how I can live with myself knowing you’re in danger,” he dropped his head, his sniffles ringing through the air. “You know I love you, right?” he asked, gazing back up and gripping your chin to force you to look at him.

You nodded your head, blinking your tears away before you saw a smile growing on his face as he let go.

“C’mere,” he opened his arms, and you fell into his embrace, his strong arms holding you securely.

To think the way he protected you all those years like it was second nature. And as strong as he was, as a killer of a metal arm he had, it would no longer do justice.

And you had to accept that as your fate.

~~~~~

Dressed in your sage dress, you stood by your father as you waited for the elevator to reach the top floor of the apartment building.

You weren’t sure if Peter knew about this marital arrangement. You hoped he didn’t and he would deny the offer, letting you get back to your normal life. But, fate hadn’t seemed to be on your side the moment the elevators opened to his penthouse.

“Peter, good to see you again,” your father greeted, pulling him into a firm hug and handshake.

“Same here, Mr. Barnes,” Peter pulled away, smiling at the man. “Princess, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you,” he pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled as you hugged him, indulging in his touch and his scent, but he was too quick to pull away, grabbing your hand lightly.

“Shall we get onto dinner then? We have a lot to discuss,” your father spoke up, nodding towards the dining table that was placed right by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Of course, I had my chef prepare all your favorites,” he squeezed your hand tighter and led you to the table.

Your heels clicked against the elegant flooring as he pulled you along. The table was set with an array of foods, all your favorites. Your stomach churned. As hungry as you were, you couldn’t fathom eating right now.

“And I got you these as well,” he pulled the bouquet from the table, offering them to you.

Your favorite flowers. The bouquet was so full and vibrant. You loved them.

“Thank you, Peter, they’re lovely,” you grinned, smelling them.

The two men smiled generously at your reaction, it was a good idea to get you in a good mood before everything was official between you and Peter.

Setting the flowers back down, Peter pulled your seat out for you and you thanked him once more before you situated yourself. It was not unusual to see Peter this happy, but there was just something about him tonight that was off.

Maybe since you haven’t seen him in weeks. Or maybe he was just extremely happy that he was starting his alliance with Thor Odinson. Either way, seeing him happy made the weight on your shoulders lighter.

“Say, Peter, quite the celebration you got going on,” your father voiced, a proud grin adorning his face once everyone was seated. “Heard you sealed the deal with Thor and now you’re engaged!” he cheered, the brightness illuminated on his face that matched the same energy as Peter’s when you looked at him.

“Wait, Peter, you knew about this?” you shook your head in shock, staring at the man across from you.

Many questions were flying through your head at that moment. How long did he know? How long was he hiding this from you? Why did he agree to it? And why did he seem so unfazed by it?

“Doll, it was his idea,” your father clarified, patting your shoulder as he chuckled. “And I was the one to pass him the opportunity,” he added, sending another pleased grin his way.

“Peter,” you directed back to him. “How could you?”

He blinked as he focused on you, his lips curving upward into a smile.

“Well, I was the only logical choice, I know you, your father trusts me, I’m financially well off, and I can bring you the protection your father can no longer give,” he shrugged like it was obvious, but you couldn’t believe it.

It was one thing that your father told you you were to marry Peter. But now hearing that Peter was the one to suggest it made your heart break.

The two most important men in your life were deciding your choices and it was scary. Your mind can’t even comprehend it.

“You’re my best friend, don’t you want to fall in love?” you baffled.

“Trust me, princess, this is going to be good for all of us,” he reached over to grab your hand. “And who’s not to say we won’t fall in love? We love each other already,” he breathed out a laugh and you shut your eyes.

This had to be a nightmare.

“As friends, not romantically,” you were bewildered, your eyes shooting open again. “What about my home? I have a life,” you tried to rip your hand away, but he kept his grip tight.

“We’ll get married by next Friday, you’ll move in with me, it’ll be a big change but you’ll live comfortably, never have to work a day in your life,” he reassured, squeezing your hand.

You glanced around the penthouse. It was nice, luxurious like your current home, but it wasn’t your home. Peter’s penthouse was very modern and manly. Sure it was clean, but it was too clean-cut and dark for your liking.

“I know my place isn’t up to your standards, but you can redecorate however you want,” he circled his thumb on the top of your hand. “It’ll become your home too,” he softly spoke, squeezing your hand once more before he let go.

“You are marrying yourself one hell of a guy, doll,” your father butted in, trying to offer some lightheartedness to the conversation but you couldn’t find it in yourself to receive that comfort. “C’mon, smile, you’re a bride now!”

Your father and Peter let out a roar of cheers, trying to excite you but you could only sit there. Futile in their attempts to hype you up, Peter decided it was best to carry on with the celebration.

“I had your favorite champagne flown in,” Peter hauled the bottle from the ice as he stood up.

And it was indeed your favorite, imported from France- the bubbles just seemed to pop more on your tongue and Peter knew. He bought you a bottle every year for your birthday every since you turned twenty-one.

“Picked it just for tonight,” Peter smiled. “We’re not just celebrating you, but us,” he winked your way, your father gushing with excitement that he reached over to pinch your cheek and all you can do was force out a hum.

You stared down at your hands. Your freshly manicured nails shone in the light, a baby pink shade that Peter picked out when you called him while you were getting your nails done. It was only a few days since and you wondered if he had known about this then.

The pop of the cork drowned out your thoughts, Peter and your father pouring the gold liquid into the glasses. You were handed one by Peter and it wasn’t a second later that you downed it completely.

“Woah, doll, slow down there,” your father patted your shoulder, letting out a playful chuckle as he looked at his future son-in-law.

“Don’t worry, she gets like that when she’s nervous,” Peter excused you, sending you a grin.

Of course, he remembered that about you. Why was it so aggravating to have him know so much about you? It felt invasive, there was rarely any secrecy, minimal surprises with Peter. He knew you better than anyone in the world and because of that, because of his lineage and status- your father only saw the perfect husband for his little girl.

And that made hatred bubble in your stomach as you stared back at him.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this,” you placed your elbows on the table as you leaned forward. “Why?” you rested your head in your hands as you stared at your father and then Peter.

The two shared a look before Peter spoke up.

“You know why, princess, think of this as a good thing, you’re marrying your best friend,” he offered another smile, that twinkle shining in his eyes when he got real. “Isn’t that how you’re supposed to do it? Marry your best friend?” he shrugged.

“But we haven’t dated, I don’t know you like that,” you emphasized, repeating your reasoning.

“Doll, if you don’t want to marry Peter, then I guess I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe anymore,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek as he allowed you to contemplate it.

You glanced over at him and you could tell he was sick of this behavior, he made it very evident that he was doing this for your best interest. While it appeared that you had already accepted that, your heart was not in it.

But the threat your father made unsettled you. Your father never went that far in his threats with you. Actually, he never went anywhere with them because you’re his daughter.

Why now, though? You loved your father with all your heart and the minute you glanced back at him and saw nothing but fear and worry, you remember why you had to do this.

“I’ll marry Peter,” you said more calmly, your father closing his eyes in content and you physically saw the load come off his shoulders.

“I promise you won’t regret this, Y/N,” Peter stood up, reaching into his suit pocket as he rounded the table.

You watched carefully, he didn’t rip his eyes from you once as he kneeled in front of you. A beautiful red velvet box was in his hands when he propped one knee up. He gently opened it, revealing a princess cut, gold banded engagement ring.

It was too simple to be considered grand but based on the size of the diamond- you wondered how much it cost. More importantly, you beat yourself up wondering how Peter knew this is the exact ring you always dreamed of.

“Y/N Barnes, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked, a glint in his eyes.

You attempted to whisper a “yes”, but you solely nodded, too scared to say anything but he nonetheless gently slipped the ring on your finger.

As you stared at the diamond- it felt real suddenly. It fit too perfectly to be a coincidence and was way too comfortable on your finger.

Peter knew you, but how did he know this much?

~~~~~

Ushered out of your bed at six in the morning was something you weren’t expecting, even more, when you saw Nat was the one to pull you out of the bed. She didn’t even let you change from your pajamas before you were pushed into the elevator and into a car that took you to the venue.

You were very thankful though when she handed you your favorite drink from your favorite cafe the moment you arrived in the bridal suite.

It was too early in your opinion, the ceremony didn’t begin until two that afternoon and you wanted to know why you needed eight hours to get ready. Six hours would’ve been good at least.

“Wanda brought breakfast, you need to eat since you most likely won’t the rest of the day,” Nat placed food from a place right in front of you and you instantly heard your stomach rumble.

Both she and Wanda already had their hair and makeup done, now it was your turn and you still had two and a half hours on the clock left.

“Has anyone seen my phone?” you asked, realizing you haven’t been on it all day. “I want to text Peter,” you said, worry filling your voice. “Or maybe I can see him for a bit?” you thought, knowing even a few seconds would bring you ease.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Wanda approached you, glancing at you through the mirror.

“I don’t know, I’ll just feel better if I see him,” you shrugged.

“Oh sweetie, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride,” Nat cooed. “If you want I can send him a message,” she suggested, but you quickly shook your head knowing it won’t be the same.

As bad as you wanted to be mad at Peter, you couldn’t. He was still your best friend at the end of the day and he knew how to make your nerves go away. He was always there for you...

“Peter, I don’t think I can do this,” you shook your head, watching as all the other students enter the front of the hotel. “What if the rumors are true?” you held onto your clutch as you stared horrified at the school.

Your senior prom was tonight, with many students gossiping about your reign of prom queen, other rumors have surfaced about your winning being sabotaged.

Possibilities of a scene straight out from Carrie or even worse.

Even with your father, some students had the balls to defy your name and bully you. Most of it was tolerable ever since Peter beat up that one kid, but there was still a bit of name-calling.

And now with the final nights of high school, those students figured they should go off with a bang- which was something you didn’t want to witness.

“I will make sure nothing happens to you, and if someone does try to pour a bucket of pig’s blood over your head, I’ll be the one to make them regret it,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, a reassuring look washing over his face.

“Okay, let’s go,” you smiled back, letting him grab your hand and lead you up the steps.

Turns out the rumors were true, but Peter caught the group of girls that wanted to dump tar on you before you went up the stage to accept your crown. And hell, did you look beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” Nat admired as she placed the small tiara on top of your head. “What do you think?” she asked, turning you to face the mirror.

Your dress was a poofy a-line dress with a sweetheart neckline, a floral lace was decorated around it, and had beautiful off-the-shoulder puff sleeves. You looked stunning like a princess.

“I look like a bride,” you said truthfully, astonished by how perfect you looked. “But I don’t feel like one,” your gaze fell as you played with your fingernails.

“Don’t chip your manicure,” she slapped your hands away from each other. “Trust me, the moment you see Peter, you’ll feel like one,” she squeezed your upper arms reassuringly.

Nat was sort of your stepmother. She and your father had an on-and-off relationship your entire life. Both are too preoccupied with their businesses to truly focus on one another, though. In the past few days, you wondered where you'd be right now if she was your mom.

Maybe she’d have Bucky give you more leeway and you’d be marrying someone you loved. Not your best friend.

“Do you think my dad made the right choice for me?” you asked, staring at her in the mirror.

She let out a sigh as she pondered before offering a smile as she opened her mouth to speak.

“I think your father wishes he knew what was best for you, but because of his job, he is forced to make some bad ones,” she answered, adjusting a piece of your hair. “Forcing you to marry is one of them, but having Peter be the one is not,” she added.

You stared at her blankly, unsure of what to say.

“Peter is a good guy, he clearly loves you and is willing to do anything for you, you may not love him romantically, but give that time,” she rested her chin on your shoulder as she looked back at you.

She was right.

Peter did everything for you your entire life. Shopping trips, brunches, spa days, late-night calls even though he had an early shift the next day- there was no second-guessing with him. Hell, even with two weeks of planning this wedding, it was all: “Whatever you want, princess.”

Not to mention, he agreed to marry you.

Peter was your best friend and your protector. Maybe you did just need some time to love him that way. And hopefully, he will too.

A knock rang through the bridal suite, Wanda rushing over to open the door to reveal your father standing on the other side.

He was decked out in his tux, his beard and hair were freshly groomed. When he walked in, he wore a bright smile, Wanda and Nat making space for you and him.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” your father tears up, but he wasn’t going to cry in front of the other two women. “So grown up,” he sniffled as he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the top of your hand.

“Thank you, Dad,” you forced a smile.

“Almost time,” he sucked in a breath. “Until you’re no longer mine,” he frowned. “You’ve grown into such a wonderful woman,” he cupped the side of your face as he held your hand close to his chest.

You stared lovingly at your father. For all he did and sacrificed for you, the life he blessed you with. There was always going to be that time when you were no longer dependent on him- you just didn’t realize it’d be this soon.

“You raised me into one,” you said, voice cracking as you tried not to start a scene.

“Just remember you’ll always be my little girl,” he grabbed your face and kissed the top of your head and that’s what you needed to start the waterworks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, fanning your eyes as you gasped.

“Oh, doll, you’re just emotional, it’s your wedding day,” Wanda came up and quickly dabbed your eyes. “Bucky, I told you not to make her cry,” she directed to your dad.

“I know, I know, it’s hard,” he sniffled.

“There, all better,” she grinned, as she fixed your makeup. “Shall we get this show on the road then?” she asked, helping you with your dress.

Walking down the aisle gave you a rush of anxiety that you never felt before. The moment the doors to the venue opened and your eyes landed on Peter. He was dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit, bow tie tied perfectly around his neck. He looked rather dashing, always was anyway.

You passed him a smile that caused his smile to grow larger and that’s when you felt your cheeks heat up.

This wasn’t so bad.

The melody to the music continued to play as you proceeded down the aisle. Every single guest passed a twinkling smile, a few tears shed at how beautiful you looked. Perhaps it was the stares, but you felt your anxiety increase when you glimpse at each person you passed.

You barely knew any of them and as you began to take deeper breaths, you clutched your nails into your father’s arm and your bouquet. He tried to calm you down by rubbing your arm but it didn’t help at all.

Until you ripped your eyes away and focused back on Peter. His eyes filled with concern but the second you sent a look that you were alright, he let out a breath the moment you met him at the alter.

He reached for your hand that was passed on from your dad and his warm touch reassured you.

Everything was going to be alright.

Peter will take care of you, treat you as an equal, and love you. Someday, you might even renew your vows, reading the words you wrote for one another that were filled with love and passion because you truly loved each other.

But for now, as the officiant read off words of endearment you did your best to listen in, trying not to focus on your sweating hands that were held in Peter’s. You gave a pleasant smile as you recited your vows and placed the gold band on Peter’s finger.

“I do,” you replied when asked, Peter growing a bigger smile as he grabbed your left hand and eagerly placed the matching ring on yours, fitting right on top of your engagement ring.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant said.

You batted your eyes in anticipation. This was going to be your first ever kiss with Peter and it was in front of hundreds of people- strangers. And while you seemed nervous, Peter gently grabbed your face and leaned in.

The kiss was powerful and unexpected. He knew exactly how to move his mouth against yours and it felt magical. The thought of kissing your best friend occurred in your brain once or twice, but this, this was so much better.

To seal the deal off, you placed one hand on his chest and deepened it. The shutter and flash of the camera made you jolt, prompting him to pull away with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

He swiftly intertwined your hands together, leading you back down the aisle as all the guests applauded. He stopped right at the end, pulling you in for another kiss and the snap of the photographer’s camera startled you again.

He pulled away with a laugh, holding you close as you exited the venue.

“Mrs. Parker,” he gestured to the limo, a driver waiting with the door open as he guided you inside.

The name was going to be an adjustment to make, but it did have a nice ring to it.

~~~~~

The guests cheered as they gathered outside the reception, sparklers in their hands that created an arch for the two of you.

Peter grabbed your hand as you both walked down to your getaway car. Your grip was firm on his hand and you kept close to your new husband. All the cheering and shouts of the guest heightened your anxiety, but having Peter there seemed to put you at ease.

He held you close now, putting his arm around your waist snuggly as you approached the last few feet of the path. The photographer and videographer still stood by as they captured the moment he pulled you into his arms and dipped you for a kiss.

If the crowd couldn’t have gotten louder.

You waved goodbye to the guests, especially to your father before Peter was guiding you into the passenger’s seat of his car. He quickly circled before he got in, starting the car and you were off, the wedding-goers becoming smaller as you drove further and further away.

The skirt of your dress had ridden up slightly, prompting Peter to place his hand on your upper thigh. You both had changed into more casual attire- Peter insisting on you wearing those cheetah print heels he got you all those weeks ago and a nice coffee brown cocktail dress he also bought you. While he sported a matching brown button-up and khakis.

As dashing as he was throughout the night, there was just something about him now that made you grin from ear to ear. Although, it wasn’t like that was going to go anywhere. Even if you were married now.

You thoroughly enjoyed the reception. It just felt like a party and oftentimes you forgot you were the reason for the celebration. The countless clanging of silverware against the glasses encouraged Peter to kiss you. And of course, Peter would grab the side of your face and kiss you like he meant it.

You had your first dance first thing and while you were a trained ballerina for a good part of your life, your nerves seemed to get the best of you. Fortunately, Peter was your saving grace and he took the lead, drawing you close to him as he hummed along to the song in your ear.

The entire night, his touch brought your shivers. A tingly sensation that would draw up your spine and cause a rush of heat to your cheeks. He seemed to notice too because he touched you often. Unless he was just doing his part to sell that you were both in love.

In that case, he was a phenomenal actor.

And now after a long plane ride to Bora Bora- you finally arrived on your honeymoon.

Peter carried the bags as you made your way up the path. Your heels in your hand as you walked up the stone to the beachfront villa Peter owned. You turned back to look at the beach and the moon reflecting on the waves made for a beautiful scene.

As you were about to walk through the door, Peter stopped you. You furrowed your brows at him but you quickly let out a yelp when he picked you up bridal style.

“I have to stick with traditions, princess,” he smirked while he walked you through the threshold as you grew a small smile, wrapping your arm around his neck.

You took this time to take in all the beautiful amenities to the place, the kitchen and living room decorated to fit the aesthetic and everything just seemed so open and calm. You loved it.

The bedroom was even grander as you spotted the king-sized bed, rose petals shaped into a heart right on top of the duvet. There was a huge patio door leading to a private pool and another door that revealed a huge marble tub and a walk-in shower.

“How come you never took me here?” you asked, walking over to the patio to get a look at the view, admiring every inch of the place.

“I always planned on it, just had to wait for the right occasion,” he shrugged, walking up behind you. “Seemed like the perfect one now,” he whispered, kissing the back of your ear as he trailed a hand up your arm.

“You know you don’t have to do that, we’re alone,” you turned around to face him.

“Do what?” he furrowed his brows. “Being affectionate? You’re my wife, I think I’m allowed to do that behind closed doors,” he cocked a brow, wrapping his arms around your middle.

You were about to open your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

“C’mon, I have something for you,” he pulled away, hand brushing over yours. You straightened up as he walked over to his suitcase, unzipping it and filing through the different clothes before he pulled out a white material. “Put this on,” he held up a see-through lace nightie, your eyes widening at how small it was.

“Why?” you baffled, growing shy.

“You’ll look beautiful when we consummate our marriage,” he explained, his lips curving upwards as his eyes darkened with lust.

“Peter,” you muttered out, wrapping your arms around yourself. “You’re not serious, are you?” you looked at him with shock. “I didn’t think,” you trailed, letting out a breath as you stepped back.

“You think I wasn’t going to want to sleep with my wife?” he furrowed his brows, letting out a mocking laugh when he realized you were being serious. “I’ve played my cards right and I think I deserve my reward,” he stated, your eyes widening in shock.

“Peter, what are you talking about?” you questioned, growing worried, not wanting to admit to the truth.

“It was a simple plan, I knew you never wanted to do anything with the mob, you always wanted the simple life, be a doting wife and mother,” he shoved his hands into his pockets after he threw the nightie on the bed. “I love picturing it, you round and swollen with my child as you wait for me to return home,” he grinned, grabbing your hand.

You tried to pull away from him, but he kept his grip strong.

“I waited as we got older, I also knew about your father’s enemies, willing and ready to rip you to shreds just cause they can, so of course, I suggested you be married, a safer precaution,” he shrugged, lips pursing.

You felt more tears prick in your eyes as he carried on.

“I was ready to fight for my right to your hand, but I was surprised when he was quick to pick me,” he smiled proudly. “Obviously, I accepted his offer, now not only will I be the leader of the Parker mob, but Barnes will soon be under my name and I will have my beautiful, sexy wife,” he raked his eyes over your body, “right by my side.”

“Why would you lie to me?” you whimpered, you were so confused.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I could remember,” he reached up to cup your face. “I needed to make sure I had you, I hated lying to you, but now I’m being honest,” his face softened as he wiped away your tears.

“You love me?” you felt a pang at your heart when he nodded.

“More than life itself,” he added. “And I can’t wait for the day you love me just as much, but for now I can show you just how much I love you,” he stood up, leading you with him.

“I-I have never done this before,” you gulped when you realized what he was insinuating.

“I know, I’ll make you feel amazing though,” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “So, please would you put this on for me?” he reached for the nightie again.

With shaky hands, you sucked in your tears before you nodded, taking it slowly and you took your time with venturing into the bathroom.

Now were you not only married to your best friend, but you had to sleep with him?

You closed your eyes as you undid your dress, your hands shaking when you slid the lacey, thin material over your head. You felt cold and bare. You didn’t even spare a glance in the mirror before you found yourself standing in front of Peter again.

He had stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him in his briefs. You had forgotten how much of a physique he had and you had to force yourself to stop staring before he caught on. And it was very evident that he was already hard.

“Princess,” Peter groaned, gaping at the sight before him. “You are so beautiful,” he ran his hands up your sides, a shiver escaping your mouth as you glanced at him. “So delicate,” he whispered, tracing his hands over your ass before they ran up your back.

One of his hands traced to your front, the lacey material giving him a gist of what your breasts looked like, his tongue outlined his lips while he pinched your sensitive peaks with his fingers.

Biting your tongue, you weren’t sure how that felt as good as it did, but Peter noticed and he let out a chuckle when you sucked in a breath.

“That’s only the beginning,” he stepped closer, grabbing the back of your neck.

His lips met yours again in an instant and you let out a soft moan when he ran his tongue across your bottom lip.

That was new.

Up until this point, your arms were stuck by your sides, but you lightly placed them on his sides, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him, enjoying the kiss.

He easily won dominance, one hand firm on your neck while the other explored every curve of your body. He was insatiable, so ravenous- part of you liked it.

The vibrations against your lips anytime he groaned when you raked your nails across his skin, the groove of his muscles made that spark ignite in your core. The sensation was weird and you felt unsatisfactory.

“Take these off,” he panted as he pulled away for a split moment, your eyes fluttering open. You felt his fingers play with the band of your thong before he slipped underneath and guided them along your legs.

“Peter, I’m not sure-,” you were cut off when he shushed you.

“That kiss was good, right?” he cupped either side of your face to make you look at him.

Your face heated up as much as you wanted to deny it, but you sheepishly let out a small nod, allowing him to lead you to the bed.

He pulled you into his lap, your core brushing against the material of his briefs and you let out a soft groan. Humored at your reaction, he laid back, placing a hand on your hip.

“Sit on my face,” he gazed up at you, a glint of hunger washed over his eyes and you stared blankly at him, unsure of what he meant by that.

“Peter, I-,” you hesitated, hoping for some clarification before you did what he told you.

“Come up here,” he ordered, squeezing your ass.

Your legs shook when stood and you wobbled as you hovered over him, your hand pushing down the material of your nightie to cover your exposed bits as you squatted above him, but he pulled your hand away and sucked in a breath when he caught sight of your core.

“Oh, princess,” he groaned, running his thumb along your slit, your hand clutching the headboard in front of you. “I’ve always wondered what you taste like,” he kissed along the inside of your thigh, a small gasp leaving your lips at the feeling.

It was strange, the way shocks of electricity ran up your spine and back down to your abdomen with just the slightest touch of his lips. And it would repeat all over each time he trailed up closer and closer, the feeling more powerful.

All of a sudden, you felt the wetness of his tongue slide between your folds, spreading his saliva around. You gripped the headboard with your other hand when your body jolted, a tingling sensation rising. He continued to do that repeatedly, his hands gripping the tops of your thighs to hold you down.

“Peter,” your forehead creased, tilting your head back when he bit at a sensitive spot.

You’ve touched that place once or twice before, but the pleasure rushing through your body was never this good. And part of you despised Peter for being the one to do so. But the other part couldn’t find shit to care about.

“Mhmm,” he hummed against you, sucking on your bud when he realized you liked it, his tongue circling it before he licked another swipe to collect your slick. “I knew you’d taste so good,” he mouthed, the vibrations causing you to grind against his face. “And I knew you’d learn to like it too,” he chuckled, your hand reaching down to grip his hair.

“Oh, God,” you moaned, your teeth biting down hard on your lip as your eyes shut closed.

Peter looked up at you, breasts held up by the nightie but the see-through material let him see how your nipples became hard, letting him know how much you were enjoying this. Smiling to himself, he felt proud, he had you just where he wanted you.

“Gonna cum, princess?” he muttered, your movements against his mouth becoming frantic as you rode him. “Just let go,” he guided you through your first orgasm, your fist tugging on his curls when you came undone, your thighs shaking under his touch.

“Peter, Peter!” you screamed, rocking your hips back and forth before you felt yourself give out. Your legs were unsteady but Peter was quick to maneuver you to your back, your chest heaving up and down. “Oh my god.”

“I know, I know,” he cooed, spreading your legs open once more. “Felt good, right?” he looked up at you, your head nodding shamefully. “That was just the tip of the iceberg,” he smirked, crawling back up to you.

“I can’t do anymore, Peter,” you whined, shaking your head against the pillow.

“But I haven’t even shown you the best part,” he frowned, gesturing between the two of you and you gulped when you saw him. He was hard and it looked painful, the way his red-tip oozed with precum, begging to be inside you already, no way was it going to fit.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll go slow,” he grinned, slowly aligning his tip to your entrance. “Might be a tight fit, but we’ll manage,” he smiled, kissing you.

A moan escaped your lips when you tasted yourself on his lips. It was a strange taste, but it distracted you when he entered you.

The tightness caused him to pull away, his eyes focused intensely on your connected bodies as he let out a pained groan. You were clenched around him, practically sucking him back in with your lips.

He was smooth in hiking your legs up with his arms, pressing them into your chest, giving him and you a new angle while he slid in deeper, your eyes rolling back just slightly when he brushed against a certain spot.

Moving your legs up to his arms so the backs of your knees rested on his biceps allowed your chests to be pressed together, the closeness making it all the more intimate.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, rocking his hips back slowly. “So wet for me, being such a good girl,” he rested his forehead against yours.

“Peter,” you whimpered, nails digging into his forearms when you tried to decipher between the pain and pleasure.

He rocked his hips back and forth, enabling you to divulge in the feeling of his cock sheathing you. You whimpered as he let go of your legs, his arm wrapping around underneath you to lift your hips.

“Shit,” you hissed, hands finding their way to his shoulders, nails creating scratch marks on his skin.

“Such a sailor’s mouth, princess,” he mocked in your ear, pressing kisses on your face before he made his way down, his other hand groping your breast through the lace before he slipped them out, the cold air forcing a shudder out of you.

Running your fingers through his hair, you bit your lip as he sucked on your nipple, another new feeling you found yourself experiencing that you loved.

You opened your legs wider, allowing his dick to rut into you even deeper than before. The sensation of his pelvis rubbing against your clit made you shiver, causing you to tug on his hair harder.

“Peter, please,” you gasped, his mouth moving to your other breast.

“Tell me what you want, princess,” he lifted his head, eyes dazed from the pleasure as he stared at you.

“I want you, Peter, I want you,” you cried, pushing the hair out of his face before you leaned up to kiss him.

“You have me,” he said against your lips. “You have me,” he panted, your noses knocking.

Tongues clashed against each other, your hands wandered over his body like you were afraid he’d disappear.

But, Peter was there and he was yours and you were his.

Your skin slapped against each other and your chests were pressed together. You kissed along his neck and jaw, whispering encouragements in his ear as you inhaled his wonderful scent. One hand stuck in his hair, threading your fingers through his brown curls and you were sure he was going to have terrible bedhead the moment you got up.

It wasn’t going to matter though, the only thing Peter cared about was cumming inside of you. Finally marking you as his and ensuring that his seed is planted deep.

He knew it was early for babies, but he figured you both could get a head start on practicing. He couldn’t wait for the day you were swollen with his child, your hormones gone awol as you beg for him to fuck you and fill you repeatedly.

The thought alone brought him to many orgasms way before you got engaged. It was always the lonely mornings and nights that would stir him awake in hopes that you were sleeping beside him.

And now he has it. He has you. Right beneath him as your walls squeezed around his cock, urging him deeper with each thrust. His arm tightly wrapped around you, tits bouncing and your breath hot on his skin.

You were close, he could tell. Your legs moved frantically, nails forming scratches and marks along his back and shoulders, fingers tugging on his brown locks. He loved the feeling of your skin against his, your coat of sweat glistening off one another.

Nudging you to look at him, he framed your head with his arm. You were so disoriented, eyes continuously rolling to the back of your head if it weren’t for him to tell you to look at him. It brought a smile to his face at how cock-hungry you were and it was only your first night together.

And there you were again, your back arching, face hiding into his chest as you clawed at his lower back. Your slick walls contracted around him, holding him in place when he came as well.

“Oh, fuck,” he fisted the pillow behind you, his balls pulsating against you as they spilled his seed inside you.

You glanced at him, mouth agape as you felt him finish inside of you. His head rested in the crook of your neck and you felt the way his muscles clenched underneath your fingertips. You were amazed, honestly.

Divulging in the scent of his cologne, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder and trailed your way up to his face. One of your hands still lodged in his hair.

“That was good,” you breathed heavily, chest rising and falling, your nightie bunched up around your middle.

“More than good, fantastic, princess,” he lifted his head, eyes heavy-lidded as he stared down at you. “You were so amazing,” he framed your head with his arm as he brushed pieces of hair out of your face.

“I liked it,” you hummed, running your thumb over his cheek, gazing admirably into his eyes.

He kissed you once more, your hand pulling him close before he slipped out, emptiness consuming you but your thoughts were interrupted when you had the urge to pee, Peter carrying you out of bed and to the bathroom.

After you cleaned yourself and you fixed the top of your nightie, Peter helped you into the bed, his briefs back on him.

Your mind still had trouble processing what had happened only a few minutes ago, you still shook with pleasure. Peering over at Peter, he still had that “winning a million dollars” grin plastered on his face.

He drew you into his chest, face resting on his pec while he rubbed circles on your hip. You rested your hand right in the middle of his chest and you did your best to fall asleep.

While this was still all new to you, he treated it as if you have already done this. As this level of intimacy was normal between you.

Now not only were you adopted into the mob life but you were married to it. No matter what, from now on you will always be dependent on Peter in every possible way.

And while that may seem intimidating or even scary- you couldn’t help but wipe the smile off of your face as you fell asleep.

~~~~~

Don't forget to reblog to support a writer!

[shibaraki]

UNCONVENTIONAL LOVE AFFAIR ┊ SEIJOH FOUR

synopsis: the relationship you and your four best friends shared had always been looked upon with scrutiny. after a reunion and a little bit of liquid courage, you realise the suspicion wasn’t all that unfounded.

tags: AFAB FEM reader x seijoh 4 (Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro), best friends to lovers, M/M and F/M action (we all fucking each other, it do be gay folks), oral sex (m!receiving & f!receiving), fingering (vaginal), 69 position, dry humping, group sex (fivesome), vaginal penetration, masturbation, handjobs, alcohol (they’re only slightly tipsy), protected sex, after care, fluff and smut, polygamous vibes (nothing about this screams casual lol), affectionate petnames (baby, pretty girl, good girl, angel)

wc: 5k

It's been a long time since the five of you have been together in one place. Naturally you'd seen all four of them on separate occasions, sometimes meeting up with Issei and Takahiro for a meal, or visiting Hajime and Tooru when they were home for the new year. But this weekend you were all finally in the same country, same prefecture, same bar, for the first time in years, and you could feel something inside you become whole again.

Truthfully you hadn’t realised just how much you’d missed it; the light hearted banter and the laughter, how loving and playful and handsy you all were with each other. The friendship you shared with these boys was something you'd be hard pressed to find anywhere else. It was special, and you savoured every moment you had with them.

The night itself had been fun, a large majority of it spent catching each other up on things you’d already said through text, talking so much you’d barely even touched your drinks. You hardly wanted it to end, your heart aching at the thought of having to part with them again.

“Fucker gets prettier every time I see him,” Hajime mutters offhandedly, drink held loosely in his hand, staring off in the direction that Oikawa had walked to order another drink, having finally finished his first. You grin, feeling a little predacious.

“And your biceps get bigger every time I see you,” you reply, arms crossed over the table surface and leaning closer so he can hear you over the distant music, “you don’t see me complaining”.

His eyes meet yours heavily, the pull of a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he flexes the arm holding up his glass. A little tipsy and unashamedly he asks, “want to feel ‘em?”

“You’re an idiot,” you snort. He laughs along with you, the years and distance haven’t changed your friendship at all. It’s every bit as easy as it used to be.

“That a no?”

“You know it isn’t,” you grumble, scooting around the booth and sidling up against him, resting your cheek against his thick shoulder and wrapping your hand around his bicep. At least attempting to, the muscle too dense and built for you to encircle with one hand.

“Hey, I want to feel Hajime up too!”

You hear a distinct and recognisable whine of complaint. Oikawa appears back at the head of the table with a new cocktail in his hand, bottom lip shining and jutted into a pout that you’ve seen many times before it no longer works on you.

Maybe if Iwaizumi was still a teenage boy he would’ve spluttered in embarrassment and told Tooru to get lost, but now he wordlessly offers his other arm to his best friend and the brunette lights up.

“Man, you three got friendly while we were gone, huh?” Hanamaki grins, throwing himself back against the cushions of the booth, Issei joining him with four new drinks between his large hands. You let your stare linger on them for a moment, maybe a little too aroused by the rings adorning his fingers. A drink slides in front of you and you catch Issei’s knowing gaze. Caught.

“Are we finally acknowledging how obscene Iwaizumi’s arms are?” Makki drawls, reaching for his own drink, shaking his wrist out as he does to reposition the watch locked around his forearm.

“Actually we were talking about how pretty Tooru is,” you say with faux nonchalance, dutifully ignoring Hajime’s quick glare. Issei notices and bites back a laugh of his own. Oikawa’s face pinkens and he tilts his head toward the two of you coyly, “you think I’m pretty?”

“We already know you’re pretty, we’ve been subjected to it our whole lives,” Makki groans in protest. “Everyone wanted to fuck you, let someone else have a turn!”

Oikawa latches onto the admission tightly, teeth bared as he grins. “Everyone?” He lilts, eyes narrowing and his expression smug like he thinks he’s won the argument but Takahiro huffs, completely unperturbed and confesses loud and clear:

“Yes, everyone”. The us included goes unsaid.

You watch on as Tooru’s expression morphs into surprise, suddenly becoming very interested in his hands and unable to make eye contact. Issei finally lets himself chuckle unrestrained.

“The great Oikawa Tooru rendered speechless by jobless Hanamaki Takahiro—”

You press your face further into Hajime’s bicep to hide your amusement, feeling him shake with laughter as Makki interrupts Matsukawa with the swipe of his hand in offense.

“Well, it wasn’t just me,” Oikawa cuts in and clears his throat, spinning his cocktail glass in the puddle of condensation that had formed beneath it. He glances at you, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip and leaving a shine behind it.

“It was you, too,” he clarifies. Under their rapt attention the booth feels much smaller, and the heat simmering under your skin can no longer be entirely blamed on the alcohol, especially not as they all murmur in unanimously in agreement.

“I remember the first and second years following you around like a puppy,” Makki muses to the group, an endeared smile on his face as he recalls the memory, “even Kentaro. Remember when he got hit in the face by a serve because he was staring at you?”

“The only puppies I remember following me are you four,” you deflect hastily, swallowing the saliva pooling beneath your tongue, “you shitheads never left me alone”.

“That's cause if we did someone would come snatch you away from us,” Tooru chimes playfully, stretching his hand out to poke the swell of your cheek. You hope he can't feel how hot it is.

“So you all just wanted me to yourselves, is that it?” you reply in jest, but something far hungrier settles behind Oikawa’s eyes, as if you were cornered prey.

“Why do you think we scared away all your little boyfriends?” Hajime adds, though he has the decency to appear somewhat embarrassed about it, gaze flickering between the glasses settled infront of him.

“None of ‘em were good enough for you”.

“Oh, but you all were?” they collectively seem to restrain a smirk at the incredulity in your voice, pitched and flustered by the onslaught of attention.

“Of course,” Takahiro sighs theatrically, leaning his upper body across the table surface towards you, “I would treat you right”.

Oikawa rolls his eyes, cocking his head in a mocking manner. “And who’s paying for her dinner? Your mother’s pocket money?”

“Fuck you, Oikawa!”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

The tension does not settle, but it no longer feels suffocating, eased by their familiar banter. Again, for what may be the hundredth time that evening, your stomach is tight with laughter. The knowledge that they all want you gradually settles into your thoughts, clicking into place as you accept it.

“Maybe you’re not entirely wrong,” you confess aloud after another short sip of your sake, warm and fond, "no one makes me happier than you four idiots. I’m surprised it wasn’t obvious”.

“People spread all sorts of rumours about the five of us back in high school”.

“Like what?” Hajime asks lowly, but as you turn to answer him Matsukawa's voice cuts into the conversation.

“They all thought we were fucking each other”.

The silence that then descends upon the booth isn’t awkward or uncomfortable, rather it’s heavy, magnetic. Anticipatory. It only worsens as it stretches, nobody bothering to speak up in denial.

While the rumour may have had no truth to it, you couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about it.

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed..." Hanamaki eventually mutters with his gaze pointedly averted to the ceiling. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, silently agreeing with the sentiment, an outlandish suggestion waiting on the tip of your tongue.

Between the five of you, it was clear you were thinking the same thing.

“Are we genuinely all considering this?” Issei asks dubiously.

“Isn’t it kind of unbalanced?” Hajime grimaces, his gaze falling to where you're seated beside him, “and it’s an uneven number—”

“Hajime, are you seriously thinking about the logistics of our possible fivesome right now?” Oikawa grins, pink cheeked and tipsy, “you’re so cute”.

“Speaking of logistics,” Makki interrupts with arms stretched up over his head with a satisfying click, the hem of his shirt lifting to reveal his soft stomach, “who the hell has a bed big enough for all of us?”

You still. That’s where you would come in. It wasn't often that you spoiled yourself, but your bed was your favourite place, emperor sized and taking up most of the room — weighted and heated blankets galore. It could probably fit four men over six foot tall.

Probably.

“My place might work?”

That's how you find yourself sitting anxiously in the middle of your bed, the familiar covers thick and comfortable beneath your knees. The mattress dips, then you feel the heat of another body close behind you, following you toward the headboard.

Getting here had been a quick affair, money thrown onto the table and an uber already waiting. But now you're restless and waiting, the boys busy arguing under their breath about who should go where. Impatient, you pull your shirt over your head and cast it aside, taking note of the suspicious silence that befell the room, and reach to unhook the clasp of your bra. Practiced and easy, the straps slip into the crook of your arms and the cups fall forward, revealing your breasts.

“Fuck,” a chorus of rough voices, all of them thick with want and all of it for you. The sheets shift, and then a large tan hand is pressing you down into the pillows.

“What’re you doing?”

“What I want,” Issei hums, kneeling between your legs to lean toward your exposed chest, eyes looking to you for permission. You nod sharply, and the corner of his lips quirk up at your eagerness.

“Just go with it, and don’t think so much,” he mutters offhandedly over his shoulder to the others before taking your nipple into his mouth. You inhale sharply, spine bowing to press into the touch.

“Shit, okay,” Hajime grunts, approaching the bed. With more tenderness that necessary, he turns your face with both hands cradling your cheeks and kisses you. Hesitant at first, his lips are gentle and reassuring, growing fervent as you respond with enthusiasm. He licks into your mouth, tongue languidly circling your own, a hand slipping down the side of your throat so his thumb can brush over your pulse. It’s unbearably fast.

Another warm body falls to the right of yours, ears pricking to the recognisable sound of tongues and teeth meeting. A familiar ache of arousal pulses between your legs at the sound of Tooru’s distinct whimper, plucked skilfully from the back of his throat. You feel pulled in every direction, overwhelmed, struggling to focus your attention on Hajime as Issei's hand begins to massage firm circles into your inner thigh. Your breath hitches as it slides closer to your pussy.

Hajime notices and pulls away from you momentarily, a string of spit hanging between the two of you, peering over to where you suspect Oikawa is laid. You swallow thickly as his eyes glaze over, struck by the sight, and you find yourself wanting to look too.

You empathise with his reaction, throbbing as you take in the image of Oikawa pinned under Hanamaki, engaged in a wet kiss as their hips roll in synchrony. It's an awful push and pull, aroused yet find yourself frustrated, wanting to touch them, touch all of them, and not being able to.

Takahiro catches your stare in his peripheral through half lidded eyes and smirks knowingly, stretching himself across Tooru to get to you. Unexpectedly, his arm passes over you, hand cupping the back of Hajime’s neck and pulling him down until the three of your mouths meet in the middle. It’s hot, clumsy and wet, your jaw falling slack as Issei strokes his fingers across your pussy. Hiro exhales a laugh at your whine.

"Keep touchin' her like that".

Warm hands roam the length of your body, barely cognisant of who they might belong to, startled by a hot breath against your clothed pussy. You turn away from the kiss to collect yourself and find you’re nose to nose with Tooru, flushed a beautiful red and watching you unblinkingly, like he’s scared he might miss something. You tilt your chin forward to kiss him, too, because it hardly seems fair that you haven’t yet. Gently sucking his lower lip between your teeth, you taste a faint hint of strawberry from his flavoured chapstick and feel yourself smile. It’s sweet, like him, and his lips are devastatingly soft. Pillowy, plump in a way that makes you want to take a bite out of them.

There's the hard press of a cock against your hip, accompanied by a choked moan that you’re sure belongs to Hajime. There's the rough murmur of Takahiro's name, followed by a quiet breath of laughter from between your legs. Issei begins to pull down your underwear from beneath your skirt, nuzzling his mouth into the plush of your thigh and leaving behind a path of kisses to the inside of your knee.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasps, throwing your pants to the other side of the bed, reverent as he parts your legs. His exclamation draws the attention of Hanamaki, who immediately leans back to catch a glimpse of your pussy.

“She’s so wet already,” he murmurs, and Issei hums in agreement, thumbs sliding back down your thighs to gently pull your lips apart. Takahiro reaches down, his long nimble fingers stroking through your folds, collecting your slick and pausing over your clit to massage tight circles against you.

“You’re all still too dressed right now,” you whine in complaint, keenly aware of your vulnerability being the only one in the room without clothes on. They’re all hasty to appease you, movements endearingly clumsy as they tug the material of their shirts and pants off, kicking them off the side of your bed and barely giving you time to consider the mess they’re making.

Oikawa remains at your side, pawing at you, nails leaving small crescent moon indents along your hips and waist, kneading his fingers into the meat of your ass like he's mapping out your body for himself. For those few moments you guiltily forget that the others are with you, and you’re drawn into a bubble in which only you and Tooru exist, his fingers careful as they outline your cunt and slowly press into you.

Brows drawn and jaw slack, body curling into the touch, open mouths pressed together and panting. Blindly you search his body, fist circling his cock in return, thumb swiping through the pre-cum leaking from his slit. With bangs stuck to his forehead and cheeks doused in pink, Oikawa swipes his tongue lazily along the middle of yours, spit falling from the corner of his mouth. Around you the mattress rests uneven, dipped beneath the wait of the three men looming over you, fucking their hands as Tooru fucks you on his fingers. It's voyeuristic, salacious, and dirtier than anything you've ever done.

“God,” Hajime growls, rough hand curling under your knee and folding it against your chest to broaden their view. Heat shoots through you, an imposing and familiar tightening in your lower stomach, your grip on his cock tightening instinctively while Oikawa moans wanton into the crook of your neck.

Right there. His touch curls upwards towards your belly, and you fight weakly against Hajime’s hold to press your thighs together, chest rising and falling in rapid succession as you near your peak.

“Gonna cum,” you whimper, back arching and rolling weakly into the thrusts of his fingers. There is a moment of suspension before you feel yourself tipping over the edge, hips canting up and the muscles of your legs seizing, an embarrassing cry catching in your throat.

“That’s it pretty girl,” Hajime’s voice murmurs from above you. A gentle movement across your cheeks to brush your hair from your face, your leg released from his hold as you’re being turned onto your side, Tooru's fingers sliding carefully out of your pussy.

Hajime shapes his body around yours from behind, caging you against his chest, his cock sliding easily through your wet folds. “Is this ok? Can I fuck you?” he asks, trembling like a man restrained, waiting diligently for your consent. With that you reach over your shoulder to thread through his hair, cupping the back of his neck in reassurance.

You nod.

“We should use condoms,” he stammers at the last second, desperately trying to remain responsible, biting his cheek when his cock catches on your entrance. You’d almost forgotten about using them yourself. Issei is the closest so you point toward your bedside table, the box sitting in the pull out drawer.

Once he has rolled the condom on, Hajime reaches down to guide his cock between your legs. You stretch readily around him as he sheaths himself inside of you, grunts muffled against your shoulder and hips slow, soft pecks left at the nape of your neck.

Tooru scoots closer to your front in a bid for your attention, sandwiching you between their firm bodies and slotting your lips together in a desperate kiss. His is hand now fisted around his own cock, stroking himself languidly and twisting his wrist as you still recover from your first orgasm. Still wanting to make him feel good, your fingers cascade down his lean chest to his nipples, and his hips jerk upwards when you pinch them.

“Hiro? ‘Sei?” You mumble against Tooru's mouth, worried about their absence, wanting to make sure everyone was okay and still with you. Wanting them to feel wanted.

“We’re here baby,” Issei reassures you warmly from somewhere in the room, then moving around the mattress to seat himself behind Tooru's head by the bedframe. While Hajime fucks into you with long, purposeful strokes, Hanamaki busies himself by lapping messily at your clit, completely unperturbed by the passing of Iwaizumi’s cock, his other hand resting idly on Oikawa’s calf.

Issei spreads his thighs and positions himself over you and Tooru, knees sinking into the pillows by the headboard. His cock hangs heavy and twitching with impatience, so you tilt your chin up from the kiss to welcome him into your mouth.

“That’s it baby,” he groans, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You clench unceremoniously at the praise and Hajme hisses, his thrusts quickening and chasing the sensation. Overwhelmed, your other hand flies to tightly grip Takahiro's hair in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself and he groans, fingers digging into the smooth skin of Tooru’s leg as he eventually comes up for air. He's a mess, chin and cheeks slick with spit.

A thumb soon replaces his tongue on your clit and Hiro turns his attention to groping at Oikawa’s defined glutes, fingers inconspicuously disappearing behind the curve of his ass, cock red and throbbing against the pale freckled skin of his thigh. You stare with hunger, debauched and lost in your attempt to suck Issei’s cock, as Makki leans his head up toward Issei to silently ask for a kiss.

The room fills with hot pants, the sharp slap of skin and a cacophony of groans. You’re completely encaged from all sides, the large built bodies of your friends weighted and unrelenting. There’s an air of desperation between the five of you that’s hard to ignore, clearly influencing each other’s actions, frantic and wanting. Oikawa’s breathing hitches, a feeble whimper tumbling from his lips, brows creased and his fist speeding up around his cock. He’s close, you realise.

Your childhood best friend is about to cum all over you while the other is fucking you from behind.

“Figures he’d be pretty even when he cums,” Hajime rasps, bucking into you at the sound, forcing your mouth further down Issei’s cock. You gag helplessly around him and Tooru laughs, the sound cut off by a sharp intake of breath, his entire body seizing as he cums against the soft skin of your stomach.

Issei pays you a small mercy then, shifting his hips away, thick cock leaving your mouth drenched in spit. In that same moment, Tooru recovers and takes a hold of Hajime’s chin, pulling him over your shoulder into a lewd open mouthed kiss. It tips Hajime over the edge, has him driving his cock into your pussy without thought, the crude slapping of skin reverberating in your ears as Hiro tries to synchronize the speed of his thumb over your clit with each thrusts.

When Hajime cums his entire body quakes, cursing tumbling into Oikawa’s mouth as his feet kick out across the covers.

Your orgasm washes over you much more abruptly than the first. You feel yourself bearing down around Hajime’s softening cock, vision flashing black as your eyes squeeze shut. “Haji-” you gasp, his name caught in your throat, sore and wrecked. A hand threads through your hair as you ride it out, another pair of lips to your ear whispering sweet nothings, an arm around your waist caressing the small of your back. You’d never felt more held than in this moment.

“How many times do you think you can cum?” Oikawa wonders aloud, nosing affectionately against your temple, “it’d be fun to find out”.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you groan feebly, wincing at the sensation of Hajime pulling out of you, littering kisses of apology along the curve of your shoulder before moving to get off the bed and dispose of the condom.

Takahiro is quick to claim the vacant spot, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “I wanna know too,” he grins mirthfully. Issei remains seated at the headboard, languidly stroking his cock with eyes settled on you.

“Think you can take one more?” Hiro asks, his question genuine, an air of concern about it. They’re worried about pushing your limits. It’s sweet, but it’s not necessary.

“How do you want me?” is your soft response, determined to see this through, to satiate their curiosity. Issei finally moves at that, lifting himself off the pillows and making his way to the foot of the bed.

“Hiro, c’mere,” Issei says with a slight air of authority, and you notice that he’s holding another condom packet between his fingers. Takahiro glares petulantly but complies, shuffling to the end of the bed as he’s told to. Issei then directs him to lie on his back with his head pointed toward the end of the mattress rather than the headboard.

“Now you,” he signals with the nod of his head, a gentle smile resting on his lips that's betrayed by the predacious glimmer in his eyes. Tooru helps you up and you crawl over to them on all fours, ignoring Hanamaki’s playful whistle.

“Sit on his face with your back to me and suck his cock, can y’do that for me?”

You huff at the instructions, covering for the fact that his condescending tone shoots right through your body, pussy already aching. Hiro has no complaints, eagerly lifting his upper half off the sheets to meet you with his tongue before you’ve even taken a seat, and you whine at the sensitivity.

Leaning forward onto your forearms you take Takahiro's cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, tense as it passes teasingly over his frenulum. You’re rewarded with a rough groan against your pussy, the sound vibrating sweetly against your clit.

“That’s it angel,” Tooru praises, laid on his front watching you take Takahiro down your throat, gagging around him as you feel the tip of Issei's cock slide through your folds. As he presses into you he takes two handfuls of your ass, rocking you back down onto his length, the weight of your body pressing Hanamaki into the sheets.

Any concerns of suffocating him are quickly placated, Hanamaki's hips jolting upwards in pleasure as he drags the flat of his tongue over your clit, tilting his head back further to lap at the underside of Issei's cock.

He's a little bigger than Hajime. The stretch is apparent, a gentle sting but not uncomfortable. It’s as if your entire body is alight, reactive to the smallest touch, accompanied by the weightless swoop in your stomach. Each pass of Hiro’s tongue draws you closer to the edge, body winding tighter around the drag of Issei’s cock, his fingers bruising against your hips.

“Not gonna last long,” Issei pants, the words strained. Hanamaki murmurs in agreement, and you feel him throbbing heavily on the flat of your tongue. You’re holding yourself up with shear determination alone, arms trembling and threatening to give way, when a hand enters your field of vision.

“I’ll help you out, ‘kay?” Tooru smirks, clasping around the lower half of Hiro’s length. With a particularly powerful thrust from Issei, you let yourself collapse against Hiro’s thigh, watching as he fucks Oikawa's fist. You hear his uncharacteristic growl, cock pulsing as he begins to cum, spilling over onto his navel.

With Issei still holding your hips up the change in position has his cock repeatedly kissing your sweet spot. Hiro is quick to collect himself, tensing his tongue and flicking it rapidly over your clit, the pace continuing even through his own orgasm.

You're left squirming with your thighs clamped either side of his head. “Fuck, I’m already—” the warning is interrupted by your own drawn out moan, back arching up obscenely and an unforgiving grip on the sheets. Your third orgasm ripples through you, intense and unending, the pleasure ebbing through you in its aftershocks. A string of disjointed curses fall from Matsukawa's mouth with a final jerk of his hips, pulling you firmly against his pelvis, keeping his cock nestled inside you as he cums. He continues to undulate his hips even as he softens, and you cry weakly at how raw you feel.

You feel yourself clench around the emptiness as he eventually slides himself out of your pussy, begging him to stay. Gathering the little strength you have left, you roll yourself off of Takahiro's stomach, snorting at his dramatic inhale of breath. If you still had feeling in your arms you'd swat at him.

Issei bows to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving a hushed murmur of 'good girl' before going to dispose of the condom, Hanamaki following him into the bathroom soon after. Hajime appears at the edge of the bed in his boxers with a pint glass of water and a damp rag in his grasp. He hands the cloth to Tooru and he uses it to wipe down your stomach, apologising quietly for the mess he made, completely lacking in sincerity judging by the pleased grin on his face. Indulging yourself, you allow Hajime to tilt your chin up and help you with taking a drink, the cool liquid like balm against the rawness of your throat. He clicks his tongue.

“We got too carried away,” he murmurs, the guilt clear in his tone.

“I’m fine, Haji,” you reply. The rasp to your voice doesn’t help to convince him, but the tension in his shoulders bleeds out at the knowledge that you weren't upset.

“Post-coital cuddles are in order!” Takahiro calls out as he returns from the bathroom, still naked as the day he was born, cock soft and swaying between his thighs. Tooru glares in his direction, completely affronted.

“I never want to hear you say that again,” he grimaces. Hajime snorts in amusement, kneeling back on the bed and wrapping a strong arm around your stomach, lifting you against his chest much like he had before and sinking into the pillows resting by the headboard. You turn to tuck your face into his collar,

“Make room for us,” Hiro complains, pressing himself up against your side and latching around your middle. Issei joins without comment while Hajime extends an arm to Tooru in invitation, which he accepts with enthusiasm.

They all make sure to have a hand on some part of you, Issei rubbing your back and Hajime affectionally playing with your hair. Sleep is calling to you, but there’s the lingering of anxiety of everything left unsaid, of all the lines you'd crossed.

As if he can sense your anxiety, Oikawa squashes his cheek comically against Hajime's bicep, looking every bit exhausted as you feel. "We should do that all the time," he mumbles.

You grin, happiness and satisfaction seeping into your bones, surrounded by the men you care for the most. “Yeah,” you slur, eyes falling shut, “we should…”