#(and can we take a moment to appreciate Seven who would have normally fucked that up but didn't)

[spectros]

anyone else getting Trans Vibes from the Normal Assassin

[blake-1030]

Male reader x mountain ghoul

Reader in first heat

Reader referred to as Y/N, uses he him pronouns for reader, refers to readers private parts as dick, reader is a water ghoul.

NSFW warning

Y/N was sprawled out on his bed, it was early morning after all. He couldn’t seem to get back to sleep, he was so warm. Too warm, actually. So he just lay, starfished out on his bed, no covers over him.

A couple hours pass before Y/N decides to get up, he shoves on a tank top and pyjama shorts-wait. Or he would have put pyjama bottoms on if he wasn’t hard.

Y/N sighs and makes his way to the bathroom, sighing as he jacks off. That’s weird? He’s not normally this sensitive. He came almost right away. Oh well, at least he’s not hard anymore-nope wait, he’s still hard. He slides on his pyjama bottoms anyway.

‘Fuck it’ Y/N thinks to himself as he makes his way to the kitchen. He turns on the kettle to make a cup of tea and sits at the bar stool as he waits for the kettle to boil.

After about two minutes the kettle pops. Y/N pours his tea, with a little more milk than he normally uses. He’s too warm to drink it really hot right now.

He sits down on the bar stool and looks over at the clock on the oven. 08:56AM. The rest of the ghouls will be up soon. Probably Cumulus first, she was an early bird, and probably Dew last, he always slept in.

To Y/N’s surprise it’s not Cumulus who wakes up first, it’s Mountain. His tall figure slightly hunched over, as it looked like he had just woken up.

“Hey, doll. Sleep well?”

Mountain was being innocent, asking how he slept. Why did Y/N’s heart flutter? Mountain always called him Doll, mountain called everyone that. How come it was affecting him now?

“I-uh-I slept f-fine, you?”

“I slept great, thanks”

there’s a brief silence as mountain reaches for a mug after he turns on the coffee machine. Mountain breaks the silence

“Are you okay? You look warm, you stuttered, and I can smell you from here”

Mountain quickly adds this on.

“Not a bad smell, just A smell”

Y/N look up at mountain, why was he blushing, why was Y/N blushing, why was Mountain blushing. Or was that Y/N’s eyes playing tricks on him.

“I’m fine, Mount. Just-just uhh..tired. Yeah. Just tired”

“I can tell that you’re lying, and I don’t appreciate it. So come on, please tell me, doll?”

There’s a brief pause, before Y/N sighs.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been to warm to sleep and-well…I’m a bit… ‘excited’, if you catch my drift”

This time Y/N is sure that mountain is blushing. Mountain thinks for a moment before looking at him curiously.

“Are you finding it hard to keep your composure? Like you could burst at any second?”

“…I guess so? I-I can hold back, it’s just…a little difficult”

“You’re in heat, Doll”

Y/N looks at him for a moment before tilting his head.

“Heat? What’s that?”

Mountain sighs and tries his best to explain it.

“Well, heat is a thing that happens once every two months. Your body gets really warm and, I’m not sugar coating this to make you feel better, you get really horny. We lock Dew in his room sometimes. It’s completely natural, I promise. Every ghoul goes through this. And there are two ways to ways to get rid of it. One, wait until it’s over, which normally takes about five to seven days. Or two, have every ghoul…let every ghoul have some ‘quality’ time with you”

Y/N knew what he meant by quality time, which only caused him to blush more, the tent in his pants more prominent.

“So I’m gonna feel like this once every two months? But I can still keep my composure, that means it’s gonna be not very strong, right?”

“Yes, once every two months. And not necessarily. Heats normally fully start at around midday, so you’ll figure out how strong your heats gonna be around 12:00-ish”

Y/N nods and sips his tea, mountain pours his coffee.

“Out of the two ways I can… ‘end’ my heat, which is better?” Y/N asks

“I think that the second options is better, because it gets rid of it faster. But it’s harder to endure”

“Okay… are you sure the other ghouls would, y’know, help me?”

“Sometimes you only need one ghoul, sometimes you get a craving for a ghoul, and when they fuck you, it’s like bliss”

Mountain smiles softly as he looks at Y/N’s flushed face.

“W-well, I think I’m gonna wait in my room a bit, to see if…y’know” says Y/N

“Okay, love you, doll”

Y/N’s heart flutters, a heat forming in his stomach, the heat instantly making its way to his already throbbing dick. Y/N let’s a small moan escape his lips. It was quiet, but Mountain still heard it.

“I-umm-love-too” Y/N stutters out.

“See you later, doll”

Mountain says with a smirk as Y/N practically runs out the room.

~ 12:37

Y/N was still laying in bed, still warm. He had jacked off at least four times. Normally he’d be spent after cumming four times, but now, it wasn’t enough. It was no where near enough.

“I already hate this” Y/N mutters to himself.

He stand up to go to the bathroom, when oh fuck, his heart begins to race.

“What the-“

He almost falls over, it’s too much now. Everything is changing too fast. He stumbles but grounds himself.

“Need…”

Oh, Y/N’s heat was gonna be a ride (literally).

Y/N sneaks out off his room. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aloud out, he just didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Anyone except Him.

He sneaks down the ghoul den, before knocking on the desired ghouls door.

“Come in!” Calls the ghoul.

Y/N practically swings the door open, he slams it shut and locks it.

“Oh, Mountain. I need you~ I need you~”

Y/N craved Mountain, and Mountain just stared in shock for a moment, before patting his lap.

“Come here, Doll” says the gentle giant.

Y/N was quick to oblige. Quickly making his way over and sitting on the Earth ghouls lap.

“Mountain, please~” Y/N slurred as he rubs his crotch on mountains stomach.

“Now now, little ghoul. You need to take it slow”

Mountains words elicit a whine from Y/N.

“I know you don’t want to, I know you want to rush into it. But you’ll get hurt. We don’t want that, do we?”

Y/N shakes his head.

“Good boy, now, let’s begin”

Mountain removes Y/N’s clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, before mountain strips himself of his clothes.

Mountain pulls Y/N onto his lap and presses his lips onto Y/N’s. The kiss starts out tender and loving, but quickly turns into a desperate sloppy kiss. Mountain and Y/N’s tongues dancing with each other as mountain firmly grabs onto Y/N’s crotch. Eliciting a moan from the smaller ghoul.

“Mountain, please~”

“Please what?”

Y/N groans and looks up at him through his eyelashes.

“Fuck. Me” Growls the Water ghoul.

“Good boy, using his words. But don’t be so demanding”

Mountain strips Y/N of his boxers and lays him down on the bed, slowly sliding one finger into his entrance, Y/N’s dick practically a waterfall already.

“More~” Moans Y/N.

Mountain slides a second, then a third finger in. Quickly finding his prostate. When he rubs over Y/N’s prostate he cums instantly, and loudly.

“Did that feel good?” Mountain didn’t even need to ask, he knew it did.

“F-fuck~ yeEeEees~”

Mountain chuckles and slides his fingers out, Y/N’s hole clenches around nothing. Mountain lines his cock up with Y/N’s entrance.

“Can I go in?”

Y/N nods and replies desperately.

“If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna explode”

Mountain chuckles, slowly sliding in and letting him adjust to the size. Mountain knew he was big. The earth ghoul started a slow pace, slow but deep, the smaller ghoul letting out moans and growls and whines of all kinds.

“Faster~” says Y/N

“What’s the magic word?”

Y/N whines.

“Please, f-fuck me faster~!!” Y/N says with a begging tone. Mountain speeds up his pace.

Soon after Y/N is whimper and practically yells:

“Gonna cum~!!!”

Mountain is sure the whole ministry could hear him, but mountain speeds up more and lets Y/N spill over his bets sheets. He cums loudly and mountain cums soon after.

“Again.” Says Y/N bluntly

~

They had gone so many times that mountain had lost count, but eventually Y/N gets tired and weak, passing out on top of Mountain.

Mountain lets him sleep and provides great after care the next day.

(This is my first writing piece so criticism is very needed and welcome)

[drunkewok]

Tiger Inside Chapter Seven

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and do not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

The drive proved to be longer than I expected, I was unsure of how much time has passed since my initial departure from the house, the silence in the car still deafening as the moment I first left. I finally began to recognize my surroundings as I approached the city limits, focus being set on reaching Blossom distracting me from the car that had been tailing me for quite some time now.

With each turn my stomach started to do somersaults as I neared closer to the well known alleyway. I was still unsure of exactly how I’d explain my situation to Seongho, what reasoning I could formulate to explain to him my abrupt vanishing act. I pulled the car alongside the curb, placing it into park before shutting off the engine. The secondary car, still unbeknownst to me, parking on the other side of the street and also killing its engine. Crossing behind the vehicle I started my walk down the alley in silence, attempting to take a deep breath to compose myself before a tight grip found its way around my wrist, pulling me back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” My eyes immediately are drawn to the hand around my wrist, glancing up to meet Minho’s cold stare, his brows furrowed in irritation.

“How did you-”

“I have full surveillance over the house. You really think I’m not alerted anytime any entry point is breached? Especially after dark?” His grip stayed firm, halting any movement as I attempted to wriggle my arm free. “You think you can just steal one of the cars and take a joy ride whenever you feel like it?” His agitation was clear, I should have assumed that someone would have known of me sneaking out.

“Oh please, I totally thought there would be no better way to spend my time than taking a car for a joy ride.” Our expressions stayed sharp on each other, both not daring to take a breath under each other’s stare. “I had loose ends I needed to tie up, okay? Now could you please let me go?”

“Siu…?” Seongho’s voice was soft behind us, almost as if he was trying to comprehend my sudden presence in the alley before him. I turned to see him directly outside of the door, cigarette hanging from his lips, yet to be lit by the lighter in his hand. I used the brief moment of distraction as an opportunity to pull my arm from Minho’s loosened grip as I turned back to him and spoke in a hushed tone.

“Just let me take care of this, okay?” I stepped forward towards Seongho, leaving Minho frozen in his spot as his eyes stayed sharply on me. Seongho’s expression stayed as one of shock, clearly not expecting me to abruptly show up in the night. The familiar help wanted sign once again posted outside of the door, clearly looking to fill my now empty position. I stared at it solemnly before looking up to Seongho with pained eyes, trying to force a smile. “I see you guys are needing some assistance already.”

“Well I-yeah… We assumed you weren’t coming back by your radio silence.” His eyes glanced up to Minho down the alley behind me. “And who’s this manhandling you?” Seongho’s voice was that of irritation, his familiar protective nature over me the same as always. I turned back to face Minho, still standing in place where I left him.

“He um… He works for my family.” Seongho’s brow raised in confusion, eyes crossing between me and Minho as I turned back to him.

“And he’s here with you? This late at night?” Realizing I had briefly forgotten my original story I had formulated for Seongho, the one in which my family ran a convenience store on the outskirts of the city, I quickly tried to backtrack.

“Oh yeah, we’ve been working some late nights at the store, he was just giving me a ride back to my place.” My thumb pressed into the palm of my other hand, rubbing it to find some source of relief to break the tension coursing through my body.

“Is that where you’ve been this whole time? The store?” His eyes glanced between Minho and I, not wanting to break contact with him for too long and keeping an eye still on him.

“My mother hasn’t been doing too well and hasn’t been able to help out so they needed me back at the shop. I’m sorry, I should have let you know before I took off.” The familiar twinge of pain settled in my chest while speaking of my mother. As far as Seongho knew, my entire family was still alive, I hadn’t dared to even attempt to explain to him her absence, and I definitely wasn’t about to try and formulate a reasoning for my father’s abrupt passing. Seongho’s gaze stayed pointed on Minho, clearly still uneasy about his presence.

“I’ve been worried about you.” Seongho’s eyes turned pained as he glanced back to me. “We’ve all been worried. Even the regulars have been asking where you’ve been.” I turned to the ground with a hurt smile, recalling everyone inside who I had grown so accustomed to seeing every night. I never thought I’d miss the mundane so heavily, finding comfort in knowing what each day would bring me. Mornings spent in cafes with Seongho, our movie nights back at my place when we both happened to have a night off. The solace it brought me to not having a looming threat over my head now obliterated, especially after the meeting with the group earlier in the night.

“I truly am sorry, but I also can’t stay. I just knew I needed to see you so you could physically see that I was alright. I don’t need you having an aneurysm from stressing out about me.” I left a soft punch to his arm with a forced chuckle, his smile failing to reach his eyes as he pulled me into a hug.

“Please don’t leave me in the dark like that again.” Seongho rested his chin on my head as he held me tight, my arms wrapping around him as I tried to blink back the tears making their way into my eyes. My suspicions that he was once again glaring down Minho were confirmed when I pulled away, Seongho staring over me directly at him before looking down at me. “And don’t let this guy handle you like that again, and let me know if he does. I’m not scared to get involved if needed.” I let out a soft chuckle as I glanced behind me towards Minho, his hands settled in his pockets as he maintained his distance from us.

“I’m not too worried about him.” I squeezed Seongho’s arm, “I’ll keep in touch, okay? Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” I pulled him into one last hug before giving him the most genuine smile I could muster before turning around and making my way back down the alley. I continued past Minho, not speaking a word as I worked toward the road. He stayed planted for a moment, exchanging sharp eye contact with Seongho before turning and following me down the alley. Once reaching the road I rounded the corner behind a building and out of sight of Seongho, Minho in tow and stepping to stand in front of me.

“Who is he?” Minho nodded in the direction down the alley, his cold expression matched with his flat words once again causing me irritation.

“He’s just a close friend, okay? I can’t have him blowing up my phone because he’s freaking out about where I am.” I crossed my arms, leaning against the building behind me and breaking eye contact, staring down at the ground.

“And what did you tell him?” He slightly closed the distance between us, his abrupt interrogation the last thing I was needing tonight.

“I’m not stupid, Minho. He thinks you work at a convenience store run by my parents.” I looked back up to him in frustration, Minho chuckled softly as he glanced down the empty street, clearly finding amusement in the idea of him working at such an unassuming location.

“Well, are you happy now? Everything settled? Time to head back.” He turned to make his way back across the street to his car. I called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Could we… grab something to eat actually? I’m starving, and I know you won’t let me go by myself.” Minho sighed and stared up to the sky as his shoulders dropped in frustration before turning back to me.

“Fine. Where are we going?” A true smile finally crossed my face as I immediately perked up a bit, the thought of going to my favorite late night restaurant giving me a small dose of joy that I hadn’t felt since leaving.

“I know a really good ramen place down the road from here, you can follow me there.” Minho glared at me through his lashes, I raised my hands in surrender. “I promise I’m not trying to pull a fast one on you, I have no intentions of fleeing. Not like you wouldn’t be able to keep up with me even if I tried.” He had a small smirk as he shrugged, simply proud I was at least acknowledging his skill behind the wheel. “Perfect. Thank you.”

The bell chimed as I opened the door to the little shop, an older lady turning to greet us as we made our way to a table against the wall.

“Siu! Haven’t seen you for a while!” Her smile matched my own at the sight of each other, a warm feeling finding home in my chest.

“Hello Mrs.Park!” I gave her a soft bow before sitting as she made her way to our table and settled a hand on the back of my seat. “It’s good to see you too.”

“The usual for you dear?” I nodded happily before turning to Minho, his eyes meeting her’s as he quickly tried to place an order, the most polite I’ve seen him act. In all honesty I wasn’t aware this man had a single polite bone in his body, and it felt slightly refreshing to witness. Her eyes crossed back to me as she raised her brows with a smirk before I quickly shook my head and hands to brush it off, not wanting her to assume anything between the two of us. “Alright then, I’ll have that right out for you.” With that she left us alone in the empty shop, the awkward silence now sitting between Minho and I once again.

“You’re clearly a regular here.” Minho leaned back in his seat as he tapped a finger to the table, finally speaking up.

“It’s one of the few places to get a good bowl of ramen at this hour, Seongho and I commonly come here after our shifts are over.” Minho quietly nodded in response. A soft smile reached my lips as I stared down to the table, recalling happy memories of nights spent over a bowl of ramen together, laughing about different stories of interactions with patrons during our shifts at Blossom.

“And I assume Seongho is the guy from the alley?” My lips pressed into a line as I nodded, hands settling in my lap. The fluorescent lights of the shop were a sharp contrast to the dark night outside, and the interior was nothing special. Mostly white walls with white tiled floors reflecting the lights and making it feel even more bright. It was a small shop, only consisting of a few tables, a family run place clearly in business for quite a while giving them time to perfect their recipes and relationships with their patrons.

We fell back into silence until our food finally arrived, the large bowls sat before us creating ribbons of steam radiating off the hot broth. I smiled with a thank you before gladly picking up my utensils and digging in. Minho failed to touch his immediately, instead watching me devour the food in front of me. I swallowed an abnormally large bite, bringing my hand in front of my mouth as I caught my breath for a moment.

“May I help you?” My brow raised in question, clearly unsure of his decision to watch me instead of eating his own food. He shook his head with an amused look before finally taking his first bite, a small smile reaching his lips at the taste. “See? It’s good, isn’t it?” He nodded with a shrug before the two of us put our focus in our meals, the contents of our bowls slowly starting to dwindle. Our first moment together without some type of negative energy felt nice, both just enjoying our bowls of ramen in silence. I sighed in relief as I leaned back in my chair with a smile, finally finished. It felt good to have seen Seongho and enjoy my classic bowl, some sort of normalcy to savor before I ventured back to the house and readjust to my new normal.

Minho quickly paid for our meals before I had a moment to protest, leading me out as I gave a wave goodbye to Mrs.Park. Outside felt even colder after our warm meals, I pulled my jacket closed in front of me before turning to Minho.

“I could have paid for that, you know, I’m the one who wanted to come here.” He shrugged before continuing back to our cars, beckoning me to mine as he crossed to his.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Now com’on, I want to go home and get back in bed. I wasn’t expecting to have to chase you out here tonight.” I scoffed as I unlocked the door and slid into the driver seat and grumbling to myself as the car turned on and shut the door behind me.

“Not like you had to follow me out here, I was coming back.”

I followed him on our way back to the house, considering I was still unclear to where it actually was, or even how I even made my way out here in the first place. The drive felt like it went by much quicker than my venture out here as we pulled into the drive and shut the cars off. A bit more comfort in the drive with the radio actually on this time and a full stomach. As I stepped out, Minho was already by my door, waiting for me to exit.

“Tonight didn’t happen, okay?” I was taken aback as his cold demeanor quickly returned, staring down at me sternly. “Chan doesn’t know you left, and I’m doing you a favor by not telling him. So we’re going to enter the house quietly, and make our way to our rooms and act like we’ve been in bed all night, okay?” I nodded quickly in agreement, pulling my arms across my body and breaking his strong eye contact with nervousness. Chan had already stopped me fleeing from the house once, and I was more than alright without him knowing of my night journey. “Although, you will need to tell him about Seongho. I don’t care that he knows a fake story of where you are, he’s still a weak link that Chan needs to know about.” I quickly looked back to him, opening my mouth for protest.

“Please no, I can’t have him get roped up in this at all.” A fear I hadn’t thought about until now, the possibility of Seongho getting pulled into all of this, I much rather preferred the option of him staying in blissful ignorance. Minho shook his head, slowly blinking toward me.

“He’s not getting involved. Chan just needs to know he exists, before he learns another way.” My eyes grew in fear, my mouth parting slightly.

“You don’t think… they’d go after him… Do you?” Minho’s nonchalant shrug unnerved me, providing me with no sense of comfort in the matter.

“I can’t say for sure, but this isn’t up for debate. You’re telling him.” I softly nodded as my eyes met the ground again, attempting to hide the subtle tremble making its way into my bottom lip. With that, Minho placed a light hand on my upper arm, leading me back to the house as we quietly opened the door and made our way in.

Right as we entered, the kitchen light shut off as Felix crossed into the hallway towards the stairs, immediately stopping in his tracks at our sudden appearance at the door. My eyes widened as I glanced between Felix and Minho, Minho’s eyes sharply on Felix with a shake of the head.

“You’ve seen nothing.” He whispered quietly as Felix silently nodded. Minho made his way up the stairs, Felix and I staring at each other before I quickly followed Minho upstairs, Felix watching my ascent in silence.

Dropping my backpack onto the floor next to the dresser, I began to change into pajamas. Settling under my warm blankets and turning on my side, staring out the large window to the night sky. Stars littered the darkness, paired with the moonlight for a soft glow over the trees. I couldn’t help but still feel the pain in my chest, seeing Seongho really felt like I was truly closing a door on everything I had built for myself. And the thought of Seongho possibly being in danger simply for being close with me gave me every reason for worry. I was unsure what I could truly do on my side, all I knew was that as long as I kept checking in on him, I could assure that he was alright.

I turned onto my back, immediate restlessness overtaking my body. My thoughts were back to racing, the inability to calm all of the new possibilities running through my mind as I stared up to the dark ceiling. Tomorrow I’d have to approach Chan. As much as I hated to admit it, Minho was right. If Chan was at least aware of Seongho, maybe there was a chance to ensure his protection, even from afar. I ran my hands across my face, my cold fingers rubbing into my eyes. I just needed to sleep this off, get some rest and work through all of this in the morning. Hopefully a discussion with Chan will give me the ability to put some of these thoughts to rest.

Next Chapter

[blinkaftermidnight]

S3 Fic Chapter One

Read on AO3

Read the whole fic outline

[Chapter One]

Now

She stops screaming as a hand lands on her shoulder. Leah looks back, utterly unsurprised to see Fatin lingering beside her. For a moment, Fatin is all that Leah can see. She forgets that they’re on a rooftop with a bunch of other people. It’s just them. But everyone else becomes impossible to ignore. Leah’s screaming has set everyone – mostly the boys – on edge. They’re already confused as fuck, and now Leah’s screaming over the tinny sounds of Personal Jesus coming through the speakers.

Fatin takes a handful of Leah’s zip up hoodie and pulls her back to the stairs, pushing past Rachel, Bo, and Kirin to get to the door. Fatin doesn’t release Leah as they descend flight after flight, leaving the others behind. Leah can’t speak yet, frankly because her mind has refused to fully process what she just saw. As if she doesn’t know; it’s simply unacceptable. Another island. All fourteen of them, together. Gretchen, gone.

They hit the bottom of the final staircase, and Fatin uses her fistful of Leah’s shirt to push Leah into the wall, gently. Leah could break Fatin’s grasp on her hoodie, if Leah wanted to. She doesn’t want to, though, thinks maybe Fatin’s knuckles pressing into her shoulder might be the only thing currently holding her in reality.

“Leah, what is going on?” Fatin asks. Her voice is strong, doesn’t waver, but Leah can see the uncertainty and the fear simmering in Fatin’s eyes. Leah reaches up, grabs onto Fatin’s hand, not to make Fatin let go of her, but just to have something to hold onto, something to anchor her.

“I thought we won,” Leah whispers. “But now we’re – I mean, Gretchen is gone, and there’s another island out there, and we’re with the boys –”

“Slow down,” Fatin cuts in. “Please. Who’s Gretchen?”

“She’s in charge. She did this to us, and now she’s gone, and we’re – we’re stuck here.” Leah huffs, rolls her eyes, and bites down on her lower lip in hopes it’ll stave off the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She really would rather not cry in front of Fatin right now.

“Why are there seven boys following us?” Fatin asks. She finally releases Leah’s hoodie, grabs Leah’s hand instead and lowers their hands to their sides, safely away from anywhere close to Leah’s face.

“There was a second experiment. They’re being compared against us.”

“Why?” Fatin presses, and Leah shrugs.

“It’s not like I know everything.”

“You know more than the rest of us,” Fatin says, easily, and Leah’s chest swells.

“Yeah, and I thought this was over,” Leah admits. “I thought we were done.”

Leah’s voice breaks, and Fatin’s grasp on Leah’s hand tightens. “We’re gonna get through this,” Fatin assures her.

“We’re still being controlled by her,” Leah hisses. “There’s so much shit we don’t know, and we’ve got seven new people being thrown at us, and –”

“We are going to get through this,” Fatin interrupts. “We’re going to figure it out. I promise.”

That’s not a promise Fatin can expect to keep, but Leah appreciates the sentiment nonetheless. It helps her relax, allows some of the tension to leave her muscles, and she doesn’t have to hold onto Fatin’s hand quite so tightly. Leah nods, just so Fatin will stop looking so fucking worried, and Leah exhales, rubs at her eyes with her free hand. The nightmare just won’t end. It doesn’t end. Just when Leah thought they were so close to bringing this whole operation crashing down, she finds herself on another fucking island, with seven strangers, and no end in sight.

Leah’s eyes are still closed when Fatin lets go of her hand, and as Leah lets her other hand fall from her face, as she starts to open her eyes so she can gauge what Fatin might need, Fatin’s arms lock around Leah’s neck. Leah drops her forehead to Fatin’s shoulder, struggles to breathe normally, to not sob her fucking soul out, as she wraps her arms around Fatin’s waist. Leah allows herself to take some comfort from the embrace, to let herself feel safe, just for a few moments, while Fatin holds onto the back of her head, rubs Leah’s back with her other hand. Just a few moments.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Fatin lies, and Leah nods.

Fatin pulls back, possibly because the sound of the door to the roof opening echoes down the staircase, and they both know they’ll have company soon. Whose company is anyone’s guess, but the first person to hit the bottom of the staircase is Dot, and she immediately launches herself at Fatin, no shame.

“Wait, you smell amazing,” Fatin comments, making a show of smelling Dot’s hoodie. “Were they giving you better shit than me?”

“Fatin, maybe not the time,” Dot says.

“Right, sorry. I’m just so happy to see you. I was losing my fucking mind in there.”

Dot’s eyebrows pull together, and she glances toward Leah before she says, “It’s not like we were locked in a room, Fatin.”

“You weren’t locked in a room?” Fatin asks, as Leah asks basically the same exact question at the same time.

Dot scoffs. “You guys were?”

There are more footsteps on the stairs, so this conversation is gonna have to wait. Leah has a feeling that they’ll have plenty of time to compare experiences and speculate about what’s happening now.

“We need a plan,” Dot says, and that’s one thing they can all agree on.

*

They gather in a ransacked office. Dot turns one of the chairs right side up so Martha can take a seat, and Leah shuts the door as the girls stand awkwardly in the room. Since the plane, this is possibly the most normal environment they’ve been in, all together. Leah lingers near the door, warily watches the others greet each other quietly, watches Fatin hug Shelby, Shelby hug Dot, Fatin hug Rachel.

“So what’re we doing?” Toni asks.

“That’s why we’re here,” Dot says.

“Here meaning locked in an office, or here meaning…wherever the fuck we are?” Rachel questions.

“Office,” Dot says flatly. “Look, we need to scope this place out and stake our claim, quick.”

“What’s even going on?” Martha asks.

“This is – we’re still being tested, or something,” Leah answers. She flinches when every set of eyes in the room lands on her.

“Is that what all those boys are about?” Toni asks. “They’re part of the same fucked up sort of test?”

“Experiments,” Leah says. “Two of them. Ours and theirs. I guess this is the third one.”

“What’s the fucking point of all this?” Toni demands. She looks over to Martha, but Martha just holds her hand out, and Toni takes it.

“I have my theories,” Leah says wryly. She crosses her arms over her chest, shifts her weight from foot to foot, refuses to make eye contact with anyone. “Right now we should probably be more focused on how we’re going to deal with seven strangers and another island.”

“Exactly,” Dot says. “I have ideas –”

She cuts herself off when there’s a knock at the door, which causes Leah to jump and move aside. The door doesn’t open, though, and Leah’s the closest, so after glancing back at Fatin, Leah twists the handle and cautiously pulls it open. She finds herself face to face with Kirin, from earlier. Leah realizes she’s the only one with any idea of who these boys are, and even her knowledge is severely limited, mostly to names and Raf’s perspective. And Kirin – well, all she knows is this guy is Kirin, and she knows how Raf feels about him, knows things he’s supposedly done and said. Knows he supposedly has quite a personality.

It’s weird, after spending fifty days on an island with the same people, to have someone tower over Leah. She’s used to being the tallest, to never having to look up at someone. The realization causes Leah to stiffen, and Kirin holds his hands out defensively, shifts back.

“We’re just here to talk,” Kirin says, and only then does Leah notice the other two guys standing behind him. Henry and…Ivan, Leah thinks. “So we can figure out what to do.”

Someone joins Leah, close enough that their arms touch, and of course it’s Fatin. Dot is on Fatin’s heels, and Dot ushers Leah and Fatin aside then motions for the boys to come into the office. They do, slowly, and they stand off toward one wall, keeping their distance.

“We should start with introductions,” Dot says.

“Right,” Kirin agrees. “Then we need a plan.” He pauses, says, “Kirin,” and extends his hand toward Dot. Dot humors him, shakes his hand, waits for the other two to offer up their names, and they confirm that they’re Henry and Ivan. So the girls go around, list off their names, and Fatin takes hold of Leah’s elbow, gently.

“We need to know what we’re dealing with,” Dot says, the second the introductions end.

“I completely agree,” Kirin says, and Leah catches the look Ivan shoots him moments before she sees Dot visibly startle.

“Oh. Okay,” Dot says. “Um, well, my plan was to split us up. We need to figure out what we’re dealing with in this…bunker? And we need to see what’s out there, on the island. We should have a backup supply of water, see what kind of food we can gather, what other materials might be out there. There could be another bunker, for all we know. We need to find out. We need to be able to survive here until – well, who even fucking knows?”

“Great. I think we’ll be better off if we work together,” Kirin suggests. “I can get the rest of the guys, and we can all…do this weird introductory bullshit. Then we can form the groups and get moving.”

“Cool,” Dot says.

“So you’re in charge?” Kirin asks, staring straight at Dot.

Dot scoffs, starts to say, “I wouldn’t put it like that –” but Fatin swiftly cuts her off.

“Yes. Dorothy’s in charge,” Fatin agrees. Her eyes look Kirin up and down. “Are you?”

Kirin stands a little straighter, says, “Yes,” but Ivan rolls his eyes, and Henry gets this dubious look on his face, so Leah takes that with a grain of salt. Kirin acts like he’s in charge, is what Raf said. Whether the other boys listen is up for debate.

Fatin’s still holding onto Leah’s elbow. Leah resists the urge to pull free, to cross her arms over her chest instead, and lets Fatin hold on.

“I’m going out there,” Leah insists. “If there’s something to be found on this fucking hellhole, I’m gonna find it.”

“Then I’m going with you,” Fatin says quickly.

Dot holds her hands up, says, “I agree with, um, Kirin. We should work together. There are fourteen of us, and I think it’s smarter if we split eight and six, send eight out onto the island and let the other six explore in here, okay? So that’s four and four for the island –”

“Hang on,” Fatin says. She lets go of Leah’s elbow so she can grab Dot by the hood and pull her back, farther away from the boys, and lean in to whisper, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“What? We’re just gonna live in separate parts of the bunker and fight each other for resources?” Dot huffs.

“Yeah, hold up,” Toni says, pushing her way forward. “We don’t know anything about these guys.”

“We don’t know anything about you, either,” Ivan retorts.

“We aren’t six foot four and muscly,” Toni snaps, motioning at Kirin.

“I think we share a common goal,” Henry pipes up. “We all want to get out of here, and we have a better chance at not rotting if we –”

“Don’t start with that death shit again,” Kirin interjects.

“Guys!” Dot shouts, and everyone shuts up.

“We were both dropped onto an island, and we were both pieces in Gretchen’s fucked up experiment,” Leah says. “She’s probably watching us right now, hoping we tear each other to pieces. I think we should do what Dot says.” When everyone remains silent, Leah crosses her arms over her chest and mutters, “We won’t trust each other at all if just the girls search the island, or vice versa. Four and four is the fairest way to do it.”

“I agree,” Henry says.

“So decide who’s gonna go,” Dot tells Kirin. “We’ll regroup tomorrow morning to head out.”

“And until then?” Ivan questions.

“We start seeing how much food and water we’ve got here,” Dot says. “We pack bags for our little excursion tomorrow. We talk to teach other. And we claim where we’re going to live, because no offense, but I’d rather not sleep directly across the hall from a bunch of guys that I don’t know.”

“Agreed,” Kirin says. “Should be easy enough. You stay on your half, we stay on ours. The way we were split up when we first got here.”

“But we share everything,” Dot says sharply. “There’s no hiding shit. No playing games. Otherwise, we’ll take our chances out there. We did just fine before.”

Kirin bristles. “So did we,” he says, but even Leah can tell he isn’t confident in that statement.

“Cool,” Dot says. If she’s caught onto Kirin’s insecurity, she doesn’t let it show. “It’s been a hell of a day already, so let’s focus on eating and packing for tomorrow, and we’ll start fresh.”

“It’s so hot when you take charge,” Fatin teases, and Dot rolls her eyes, waves her hand dismissively. In the meantime, Kirin leads the way out, flanked by Henry and Ivan, and the girls find themselves alone once more.

Dot turns to the rest of the girls, says, “Let’s get Martha back to her room. You and Toni can sit this out. Obviously I’m joining Leah and Fatin out on the island. Who’s coming with me?”

“Me,” Rachel says immediately, and no one argues.

“So Toni, Martha, and Shelby are on bunker duty. Glad we settled that,” Dot says. “I’m gonna see if I can pack us two bags for the trip tomorrow. We should all eat, and then, uh, rest up.”

“Sure, Dad,” Fatin jokes, but Dot doesn’t seem to be in the mood. If anything, she seems troubled about something she doesn’t care to share with the group, but Leah can’t think about that for long, once the group starts splitting up. “Hey,” Fatin says, catching Leah’s wrist before she can leave. “I think you should take it easy,” Fatin says.

Leah rips her arm free, grumbles, “Since when are you my mother?”

“I’m just saying,” Fatin sighs, shaking her head, “don’t overdo it tonight. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long fucking day. I’m sure you want to tear this place apart, but we gotta stay focused.”

Leah deflates, because damn it, Fatin’s right. “Fine,” Leah grudgingly agrees.

“Let’s see if we can grab dinner,” Fatin suggests.

As Leah follows Fatin out of the office, Leah mumbles, “You don’t have to take care of me, you know. I can handle myself.”

“I know,” Fatin replies. “But I’m allowed to look out for my friends. Plus the last thing we need is you passing out in the middle of the island because you refused to eat and stay hydrated.”

It’s a weak attempt at a joke, evidenced by the smile Fatin sends Leah’s way, but Leah’s head spins too much for her to respond. Too much is happening. Too many things are unknown. Leah wants so badly to storm out onto the island and see what she can find, see if there’s a way out, but even Leah knows that’s a ridiculous idea. So she follows Fatin until they stumble upon a cafeteria, and they start going through shit, alongside two of the guys. Bo and Scotty. And while the four of them exchange a look, they stick to themselves.

“Dot’s gonna want to inventory the shit out of this place,” Fatin says, quietly enough that Bo and Scotty won’t overhear.

“Well, until she gets to that, I think everything is fair game,” Leah mutters. They don’t eat much, though, in spite of their many options. Leah feels vaguely sick, has to force herself to eat just to keep her energy levels up – and because she’s pretty sure Fatin would make her, anyway. Leah and Fatin sit at a table on one side of the cafeteria, while Bo and Scotty take a table on the complete opposite side. Leah considers the idea that she should convince Fatin that it’d be good to try to talk to them, but Bo and Scotty seem wrapped up in their own conversation, and it looks sort of serious, so Leah lets the idea go.

“Where’s your mind?” Fatin asks, and Leah snaps back into focus.

“Huh?”

“Exactly,” Fatin says, pointing her half-eaten granola bar at Leah. “You keep staring at them.”

“What? I wasn’t staring,” Leah mumbles.

Fatin shrugs. “If you want to talk to them so badly, go talk to them.”

Leah’s face heats up. “No.”

“Since when are you shy?”

“Since I’m not trapped on an island with the same six people.”

Fatin hums, seems to accept this answer. When they leave the cafeteria – together – Leah wants to ask Fatin why she’s suddenly gluing herself to Leah’s side again. Leah thinks she knows the answer, though. Fatin’s worried that Leah’s going to lose it and do something insanely stupid or dangerous. Leah does, frankly, have a history of doing that type of shit. Exhibit A: dancing in the street at night. Exhibit B: running into the ocean. Exhibit C: swallowing all of their remaining benzos.

Leah flinches and doesn’t bother to ask Fatin anything. Just accepts that Fatin will be tagging along, wherever Leah decides to go. And she should decide to go straight back to her room, should decide to go rest up for tomorrow. Her legs carry her to the office she’d met Gretchen in. Maybe it’s Gretchen’s office, or maybe it’s just an office, but that’s where she ends up, Fatin right beside her.

“What are we doing here?” Fatin asks softly.

Leah doesn’t answer at first. Fatin waits in the doorway, watching Leah warily as Leah steps into the room, eyes darting around. She could’ve sworn –

“I’m looking for something,” Leah says, and she crosses the room to the boxes stacked in the corner. Sixteen of them. Labeled, thankfully. She drags most of the boxes out of the way, aware that Fatin’s slowly closing the gap between them, until Leah spots her own name, carefully printed in Sharpie on the lid. Beneath her box is Fatin’s, and Leah moves out of the way with her own box. Fatin doesn’t go to her box, though, stops to watch Leah lift the lid and peer inside.

She finds a collection of her belongings from the island. Leah kneels beside the box and pulls out her cardigan, her blue T-shirt, her cutoffs, even her shoes. It’s nothing unexpected. She didn’t have a whole lot of things that were hers on the island. She burned Jeff’s book. She spent half her time wearing Fatin’s or Martha’s clothes. None of this is a surprise.

Fatin’s hand grasps onto Leah’s shoulder in what Leah supposes is meant to be a comforting gesture. But Leah doesn’t feel anything while looking at her stuff, except a surge of anger. Leah packs her stuff back into the box, places the lid on it, and exhales heavily.

“You okay?” Fatin asks quietly.

“Fine,” Leah grunts. She stands, feels Fatin’s hand slip off her shoulder. “I’m just gonna – I’m gonna take this to my room.” Leah pauses then adds, “You should take yours. You know, in case someone gets the idea to snoop.”

“I’m not worried,” Fatin says, but she retrieves her box nonetheless. “I’ll tell the others that their stuff is here.”

Leah nods curtly then leads the way back to their side of the bunker, to their adjacent rooms. Leah dumps her box beside her desk, listens to Fatin enter her room, listens to Fatin’s door shut. Fatin was right there, right near Leah, the entire fucking time. And Leah had no idea. Gretchen probably took some sick satisfaction from the knowledge, though. Faber, too. Fatin was right there.

*

That feeling from earlier, when Leah thought she’d gotten the upper hand on Gretchen, when Leah thought she’d won, is gone. Completely gone. Leah just feels defeated now, and she spends the next hour or two lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, thinking. She gets lost in her mind again, and she can’t stop it, because she was so close. She goes over it in her mind, again and again and again, goes over how it fell apart, asks herself how she didn’t anticipate that Gretchen would bail and abandon them all here. How could Leah not see that Gretchen wouldn’t cave?

Leah doesn’t react to the knock on her door, just stares up at the ceiling until the person knocks a second time.

“It’s open,” Leah calls. She doesn’t want to see anyone, but she at least waits to see who it is before telling them to fuck off. She’s expecting Dot, or maybe even Raf, and she doesn’t quite let herself hope that it’ll be Fatin. The door swings open, and Leah doesn’t look, waits for them to do or say something first.

“Leah,” Fatin says.

Leah’s not proud of the relief that floods her body, isn’t proud of how her mood immediately improves tenfold, just because Fatin sought her out. Leah props herself up on her elbows, sets her eyes on Fatin. Fatin hasn’t stepped into her room, stands in the doorway.

“You can actually come in, you know,” Leah says.

“Didn’t want to accidentally intrude,” Fatin replies.

After a moment of hesitation, Leah requests, “Close the door?”

Fatin doesn’t question her. As Fatin closes the door, Leah makes herself sit up fully, draws her knees to her chest as Fatin’s gaze lands on her. Leah motions to the empty space beside her, and Fatin takes a seat on the edge of Leah’s bed. Fatin inhales sharply, hands clasped together in her lap. Leah unabashedly stares at the side of Fatin’s face, and she thinks about how they haven’t been closed in a room, alone, before. They’ve been alone on the island before, sure, but that was wide open space. Now it’s just the two of them, surrounded by four walls and a closed door.

“Did something happen?” Leah prompts.

“What? No,” Fatin says. “No, I was just – today’s been so wild, I didn’t get a chance to tell you that it was me.”

Leah’s eyebrows pull together. “What was you?”

“The note Shelby slipped you. I wrote it.”

Leah’s lips part, and she remembers getting the note and wondering if Fatin had written it, because it seemed similar to Fatin’s handwriting in Nora’s journal, while Fatin was keeping track of their movements. It wasn’t even really that, though.

“I know,” Leah says.

Fatin startles. “You – how?”

Leah shrugs, rubs at the back of her neck as Fatin’s eyes scrutinize her. “I don’t know. I just, like, had a gut feeling that it was you, and I trusted it.”

Fatin lets out a low whistle, admits, “I’m impressed.”

Leah huffs. “Yeah, don’t be. But that isn’t why you’re here, right?”

Fatin blinks. “I mean, I’ve been dying to tell you that I worked out that you were right while we were still on the island – with Shelby’s help, I guess – but…yeah. I guess I’m just here to make sure you’re alright.”

Leah swallows hard as their eyes lock, and she tightens her hold on her legs. “Am I ever really alright, Fatin?” Leah asks.

“I don’t know. Depends how you mean it. You’re alright to look at,” Fatin jokes, knocking her fist into Leah’s shin.

Leah, in spite of herself, smiles, but she’s quick to roll her eyes. “You’re hilarious,” Leah deadpans.

“Look, I know you’re taking this pretty hard,” Fatin says cautiously, and she grasps onto Leah’s knee. Leah forces her muscles not to tense. “But just – try not to beat yourself up too much. You did more than literally any of us. It’s not your fault this bitch has a shitload of resources at her disposal.”

“Yeah, I know,” Leah says, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m just so tired of this, Fatin.”

Fatin squeezes Leah’s knee, smiles sympathetically. “Are you gonna be okay?” Fatin asks.

Leah hesitates, but Fatin came to her first, so fuck it. She might as well. “Will you stay with me tonight?” Leah asks. “I don’t know if I can stand another night alone in this room.”

“Yeah. Of course,” Fatin says. She clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, grins lazily. “Move your ass over.”

Leah slides to one side of the twin sized mattress, makes enough space for Fatin to crawl over and drop down, exhaling. After a moment, Leah lets go of her legs, lies beside Fatin. With both of them on their backs, arms pressed together, they just barely fit on the mattress together.

“Dot would be so jealous if she saw us,” Fatin jokes. Leah cracks a smile, doesn’t know if she’s grateful that Fatin hasn’t jumped straight to making a sex joke or if she wishes Fatin would have. Leah feels Fatin turn her head to look at her, then Fatin’s hand finds Leah’s between them, grabs on as she says, “Hey, we’re gonna be alright.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Leah scoffs.

Fatin tangles their fingers together, admits, “No, we’re probably totally fucked.”

Leah’s laugh is involuntary but genuine.

*

Then

Fatin’s getting real fucking tired of stressful days. Wait. Scratch that. She’s getting tired of abnormally stressful days. Every day on the island is fucking stressful, but they’re not all as stressful as, say, day twenty three. Or day thirty. It’s weird, how day twenty three and day thirty feel like they’re more than a week apart.

Or maybe Fatin simply never anticipated that Leah would try to die twice over the span of literally like one single week. Maybe Fatin really believed that Leah’s trip into the ocean deterred her from trying again.

Maybe Fatin is a fucking idiot.

“It’s not your fault,” Shelby says, hours later, barely speaking loud enough for Fatin to hear. It takes Fatin a few moments to realize she’s being addressed, and frankly, she only notices because Shelby’s hand lands on her shoulder, and Fatin jolts, tears her eyes away from the fire.

Not the fire. Leah, lying motionless on the bed across from the fire. Fatin can’t even pretend like she hasn’t been actively staring at Leah since they got her back to camp, since Rachel and Shelby saved Leah’s life – meaning Rachel is two for two.

“Of course it’s not my fault,” Fatin scoffs, but she swallows hard, refuses to look over at Shelby as Shelby takes a seat on the ground beside her, still holding onto Fatin’s shoulder. Fatin resists the urge to brush Shelby’s hand off of her, tries to rein in some of her bitchiness that’s threatening to spill over. Shelby’s eyes lock onto the side of Fatin’s face, but Fatin stares straight ahead at Leah, as Leah stares blankly into the distance.

“It can be hard,” Shelby says, choosing her words carefully, “to know how to feel in situations like this. Sometimes we…lash out.”

“We?” Fatin says sharply.

Shelby inhales deeply, and Fatin’s too wrapped up in what happened, just like an hour ago in the dead of night, to figure out if Shelby is referring only to Leah or if Shelby is digging deeper. Fatin kind of can’t handle her own emotional shit right now, so she definitely won’t be able to handle Shelby’s, too. Shelby lets go of Fatin’s shoulder, gingerly takes Fatin’s hand off of Fatin’s knee instead, and Shelby acts as though Fatin doesn’t immediately stiffen at the contact. Well, not the contact; the type of contact. Fatin isn’t really thrilled at the idea of sitting beside the fire, holding Shelby’s hand – one, because Fatin isn’t in the mood for setting Toni off, two, because Fatin doesn’t do this. Fatin’s not the let’s sit and cry about the shitty things that happen to us type.

Fatin lets Shelby hold her hand, and Fatin doesn’t complain or jerk her hand away like a bitch. She allows it to happen for Shelby’s benefit only, and if Fatin finds it comforting, that is just a coincidence.

“How could she do this?” Fatin hears herself whisper, without her own goddamn permission.

“I don’t know,” Shelby murmurs.

“Maybe it is my fault.”

“It’s not,” Shelby insists.

“I pushed her into the rocks. I told her I’d kill her. She turned around and swallowed all the benzos? You think it’s not related?” Fatin hisses.

“I think,” Shelby says softly, and Fatin refuses to look away from Leah, “we’re all doing our best –”

“Sometimes our best isn’t enough.”

“No,” Shelby says gently. “This isn’t on you.”

Fatin struggles to hold herself together, suddenly, which is so fucking embarrassing, even given the circumstances. At least Dot, Rachel, Toni, and Martha are all asleep, because shit, Fatin can use as few witnesses as possible. Fatin wants to shake Shelby’s hand off of hers, but she doesn’t, solely for Shelby’s sake. Clearly Shelby is holding something back, but Fatin can’t get into it right now.

“I know it’s not gonna seem like it,” Fatin says, and damn it, her voice breaks, “but I am so fucking pissed right now.”

“I know.”

That does it. It’s literally, like, a few silent tears that Fatin’s quick to dry with the sleeve of her jacket, and Shelby doesn’t say anything. Fatin doesn’t even tell Shelby to fuck off when Shelby rests her head on Fatin’s shoulder, even though they’re already holding hands, and this whole thing is starting to feel legit gay. Fatin keeps that thought to herself.

“Don’t get any ideas that you’re gonna, like, hold me or something,” Fatin warns.

Shelby laughs softly, probably rolls her eyes. At least, Fatin likes to think she does. She can’t see Shelby’s face. “It’s okay to just…feel what you feel,” Shelby says. “And, you know, you can talk about it –”

“Yeah, fuck that,” Fatin replies. “I don’t want to talk. I want to rearrange Leah’s face with my fist, but I think that would be frowned upon.”

Shelby hums. “I mean, I’m no expert, but I don’t think you actually mean that. I think it might just be easier to feel angry than…”

“Than what?” Fatin snaps.

“Upset,” Shelby says, “and scared, and hurt.”

“I’m not –” Fatin huffs instead of finishing her lie, because she bets Shelby will call her on it. Gently, but still. Better to just trail off.

“Believe me. I know,” Shelby says. “We’re lucky she’s alive.”

“But practically comatose,” Fatin mutters. “We could sit here and talk shit about her, and she’d probably never know.”

“We’re not gonna do that,” Shelby says weakly, but Fatin’s already calling, “Hey, Leah! Fuck you.”

Nothing happens.

“Damn,” Fatin says. “I thought that would work.”

Shelby stifles her laughter and lifts her head from Fatin’s shoulder, finally pulls her hand free of Fatin’s. “I don’t think that’s the proper way to approach –”

“Leah, when we get back to the Bay, I’m gonna fuck up your geriatric boyfie!”

“Fatin, stop,” Shelby says, struggling not to laugh.

“She’s looking right at me,” Fatin says. “Come on. Something’ll make her break.”

“Let her recover,” Shelby suggests.

“Let her recover? At this rate, she’s gonna have to pay for my therapy when we get out of here.”

“Fatin,” Shelby says, and their eyes lock for the first time since this conversation started. Fatin’s façade cracks as Shelby studies her, and Shelby whispers, “You don’t have anything to prove to me. It’s okay if you’re upset –”

“I don’t want to be upset,” Fatin sneers. “I want her –” to be okay, but Fatin throws that thought aside as she points across the fire at Leah, “to get her shit together.” Shelby doesn’t say it, but her eyes do. I can see right through you. “How do you even know?” Fatin demands. “How can you know what I might feel?”

“Because my best friend killed herself shortly after I kissed her.”

Fatin stops in her tracks, deflates, weakly says, “Don’t make up some sob story just to –”

“I’m not making it up.”

“Well,” Fatin says, and she lets the word hang in the air between them as her brain buffers, “I haven’t kissed Leah.”

“Fatin, that’s not the point.”

“Yeah, I know,” Fatin mumbles. She throws a twig into the fire. “I’m sorry.”

Shelby exhales heavily. “I am, too.”

“I don’t know how to not feel angry,” Fatin admits. “Even though being angry is probably what got us into this fucking mess.”

“The important thing is, she’s gonna be okay,” Shelby says. “You didn’t know –”

“I should’ve known.”

“How could you?” Shelby asks. Fatin doesn’t have an answer. When the silence stretches on, Shelby says, “I’m around. If you need anything. Take care of yourself, okay?” She awkwardly pats Fatin on the shoulder and heads to the bed she’s been sharing with Toni.

Fatin checks the watch on her wrist to see she still has over and hour left of watching Leah before she can switch off. Fatin glances toward Shelby’s bed, looks at the way Shelby wraps herself around Toni, and Fatin exhales. Turns her eyes back to Leah. Leah’s still staring in Fatin’s general direction, eyes glazed over, and Fatin pushes away the feeling of wanting to comfort Leah. Mentally, Leah clearly isn’t here.

Besides, the anger is easier to feel. Easier to process. Easier to understand.

*

“You’re staring.”

Fatin fixes her eyes on Dot, who has just invited herself to sit beside Fatin and wears a smirk.

“I’ll take whatever view I can get,” Fatin replies.

Dot rolls her eyes dramatically. “Rachel’s with her,” Dot says. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Since when are they BFFs?” Fatin grumbles.

“Since when are you jealous?” Dot teases.

“Oh, shut up,” Fatin retorts. “I’m just trying to make sure she’s not about to try to off herself again.”

“Then why have you been such a bitch the last few days?” Dot questions. She jabs her finger into Fatin’s leg, watches Fatin jump. “You missed her.”

“I missed not being harassed by you,” Fatin replies, smiling thinly.

“Just go talk to her,” Dot suggests. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I can’t,” Fatin sighs.

“Why not?”

Fatin just shrugs in response, and she reaches for Martha’s trashy erotica book. “She’s got Rachel to keep her company. I’m sure she’s fine,” Fatin finally says. “You wanna read this shit with me?”

*

She finds herself alone at camp with Leah, later. Toni and Shelby went to collect lychees – and fuck, probably. Knowing them, they’ll fuck and then touch all the fruit. Martha took Rachel out to hunt, and Dot went to collect water, and before Fatin consciously realizes what everyone leaving means, she’s stuck alongside Leah. It’s the first time they’ve been actually alone since –

The rocks. Fatin’s anger. Leah trying to die.

Fatin tries so hard to focus on the trashy erotica novel. She’s hit a steamy patch. She wants to live vicariously through these wedding planners, but it’s difficult when she knows Leah’s only a few feet away from her, lounging on her bed. Leah’s not even doing anything, just lying sprawled out on her back, inspecting her nails. The silence starts to suffocate Fatin, though she bets Leah doesn’t give a shit. Probably doesn’t even notice. Maybe Leah doesn’t even care that they haven’t spoken in –

Fatin stops herself, refuses to go down that rabbit hole. She returns her attention to the book, stares at the page without actually reading any of the words. Fatin feels like she should say something. As she starts to think of what exactly she could say, Leah clears her throat, and Fatin twists around to look over at her. Leah’s cardigan lies open, exposing Leah’s bra and too much bare skin. Fatin supposes she’s wearing a similar outfit herself, considers zipping her jacket for half a second before she simply tears her eyes away from Leah.

“Is that book even any good?” Leah asks.

Fatin’s eyebrows raise. “I mean, it’s not Shakespeare, or whatever, but it’ll do. Beggars can’t be choosers and all that.”

Fatin should ask Leah how she’s doing. At least ask if she’s okay. But Leah looks totally fucking normal. There’s no hint of the Leah that Fatin saw the day she tried to kill herself – well, either of those days, since there’s more than one. Fatin doesn’t ask, doesn’t want to risk ruining Leah’s good mood by prying into her current mental state, doesn’t want Leah to know she’s worrying about her.

“Why are you suddenly interested, Leah?” Fatin teases. “You want to read some of it with me?”

“Fuck, no,” Leah laughs. Fatin grins, realizes how much she missed hearing Leah laugh – making Leah laugh, at that.

“Come on. The descriptions are so bad. It’s almost funny.” After a pause, Fatin adds, “Oh, is this not up to your standards?”

“No! That’s not it at all,” Leah argues. “I just…don’t want you to read an erotic novel out loud to me. Is that really so weird?”

“It might be a good bonding experience,” Fatin jokes. “I just hit the part where the groom is gonna rail the wedding planner –”

“Fatin, please,” Leah cuts in, laughing.

“Against a wall,” Fatin finishes. “It’s kinda hot.”

“Sure, Fatin.”

“What? You don’t want some hot guy to fuck you against a wall until you see stars?”

Fatin’s not sure if that question is a joke or not, but she has a lopsided grin on her face while she waits for Leah’s answer. She turns to look at Leah again, to confirm that Leah’s face has, in fact, reddened.

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” Leah admits.

Fatin sighs as if Leah’s answer pains her and says, “Loosen up a bit. I’d kill to have someone fuck me against a wall right about now. Mostly because that’d mean there’d be a wall, somewhere, to be fucked against.”

“I guess I didn’t think about it like that.”

“You were too busy thinking about how great it’d be to get fucked against a wall.”

Leah laughs again, and Fatin sits up, turns to face Leah’s direction. If she’s honest with herself, she just wants to catch a glimpse of Leah’s smile, but Leah’s laughter dies down as her eyes land on Fatin.

“What?” Leah questions. “What’s that look about? Are you okay?”

“Are you?” Fatin counters.

Leah hesitates. “I’m better,” she answers. She props herself up on her elbows, and Fatin works really hard to keep her eyes on Leah’s face instead of on her chest or bare stomach. Fatin doesn’t really succeed, but maybe Leah won’t notice or, at least, won’t think anything of it.

“Good,” Fatin says, sincerely. She takes a deep breath, says, “Leah, I’m –”

“Don’t,” Leah interrupts. “I know you’re gonna try to apologize to me, but I don’t want you to.”

Fatin nods, manages a smile, and she sets Martha’s novel aside. “I should apologize anyway. I was out of line, and you –”

“It’s not your fault,” Leah says softly, and for the first time in days, Fatin feels like she can actually breathe again. They stare at each other for a moment before Fatin decides to stand and stretch. She aches to go to Leah, to hug her, if Fatin thought she could get away with it – she knows she can’t. So she settles for passing by and pressing her fingertips to Leah’s shoulder, smiling down at her.

“Don’t do it again. Please,” Fatin says.

“I didn’t realize you’d be so worried.”

“We’re all worried,” Fatin replies, forcing herself not to snap at Leah. She takes her hand back from Leah’s shoulder, but Leah catches Fatin’s wrist before Fatin can walk off. Fatin raises her eyebrows, waits for an explanation.

“Go get that book?” Leah says, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she starts to smile. “Let’s see how bad it really is.”

[momo-wants-siesta]

Seven Days in Purgatory [Review]

Today I'm reviewing the dashington WIP "Seven days in Purgatory" by the author named I* also know in the COG forums as "Sel_Lee".

This piece is presented as a kind of psychological thriller, where the protagonist is an amnesiac person, now trapped in an adorable little house with their supposed partner.

I must admit that as a premise, it's certainly original and interesting, and I'm looking forward to see where it all goes.

CHAPTER 1

So the MC wakes up in what seems to be a bedroom, with the big difference that they are surrounded by medical equipment.

Not creeepy at all.

So what we get to know (Which is not told to us by the narrator but by the only other person we can interact with) is that we had some car accident, and this is why we been recovering at home. In Finland. Because that's totally what people do when their signifcant other falls into a coma. Nothing suspicious here.

So we get to choose our name as players, or we can have our totally-not-sus partner to remind us of it.

I'm squinting at you Anthony.

At that moment is obvious that our memory is clearly muddled. Some of the things that we seem to "remember" add ups to what our partner has been saying, but once again the memories are too confused and muddled.

I'm totally getting this vibe of fake security, for the whole ambiance the narrative puts us in. And the back that the MC seem to look rather unhealthy is clearly putting me off. I think I get the eerie vibes not only from the partner, but for the MC themselves.

There's some weird dissonance in there.

We go to sleep, and we have a psychedelic dream that takes us to the next chapter.

CHAPTER 2

Well we wake up in the most violent way possible, but darling is there to make sure we okay.

At that moment, the MC is clearly having some weird mental deluded state. I love the smell of past trauma in the morning, what can I say.

That the two characters were in a deep relationship and it's not lie, its quite obvious. Now the question is, if it was a healthy one.

MC has a memory place. Now given what happened, that's a big red flag to me. Like maybe I'm getting paranoid, but I'm getting the unreliable narrator vibes here.

Not to say this dude mind palace is complete mess and all over the place. I call on the guy being a complete psycho. I call it already.

This could be one of those "Who is trapped with who?" situation quite quickly. But I digress.

Okay so this time we are getting actual memories. That we have to believe are real. It's good to know that the MC wasn't exactly the most social person in there. But honestly I would feel the same with having to work with assholes.

There's this sudden quotes in the middle of the narrative, that are totally putting me off, but I mean it as a good thing. It almost feels like a someone reading a play out loud.

Freud's bullshit jokes are always appreciated.

Okay now we are going deep. Seems that the MC was quite the philosophical special potato. This still creeps me out.

I'm calling a tomato in the mirror. I'm calling it.

Hubbie didn't like to talk about other people it seems.

Now it's Queen time sprinkled with a bit of identity crisis.

You gonna call me genre savvy here, but those two are too cultured in such a modern setting. I read enough stuff, to say this smells fishy.

Okaaaaaaay, big reveal. Hubbie says he works for the FBI.

So you telling me, we have a prison nurse and a FBI analyst, living together in some isolated Finland cabin. And that's totallly normal.

Why is a federal agent out of the country? This is putting me off big time.

Well one thing is for sure. FBI hubbie is a horny animal.

And after a bit of Vivaldi we go back to the memory palace, to see what fucked stuff we are finding this time.

There's nothing like a room full of bodies and some dramatic castle at the top of the sea.

Psychotic bird killing. It's a good way to end the chapter.

CHAPTER 3

And we start with a Fairytale, as a way to emulate the obvious daddy issues along with some old daddy homophobia. So now we get even more trauma, it seems.

Now we get to explore more onto this whole social paradigma on the MC, trough the years of parental abuse.

So after a creppy tour around the nightmare cabin and some digging, we get listen to the enormous bird of wisdom.

Then I'm presented with some deep questions, and ofc I gotta choose what kind of kinks is the MC in. I'm a woman of a culture after all.

WELL IT'S GOOD TO KNOW THE MC IS SOME KINKY MOTHERFUCKER.

Thank you bird of wisdom.

To this point it's rather obvious to me, that those two end together, bonding over the past family trauma.

Anthony is being hella nice, but with the whole setting it's givng me some deep dissonance vibe. Almost as if the man is trying to hide something from the MC. Or maybe just being wary? Who knows.

Night never comes huh. So they are truly up there.

Now we have this little romantic picnic.

And now for the next dish, a bit of bloody food. I love how the MC can be rather child with it.

That was the creepiest exchanging of vows ever. Is this going to be some sort of psycho duo of love?

And with this totally normal interaction, we finish the chapter.

FINAL TOUGHTS

Well I wasn't expecting for this review to be this long, but it happened.

Now, it's obvious this IFs is not for everybody. But the author already warned about some degree of lack of player agency (unlike other) so one cannot truly complain.

Now as per my personal opinion. I been thinking deeply about what to say. This is quite something. This IF, this story, it's special. I'm not saying is the best thing ever or anything, but it has this vibe, this aura, that makes it shine between all the other works.

What is obvious to me, is that this is no amateur author. The way the narrative is flowing, how a lot of elements are described, there's a consistency there, almost like a rythm.

I have to admit I became fascinated by the story that it's been playing in front of my eyes. If the author is doing something that I consider is vital, is that they are trasmiting the feelings and the vibes of what it happening quite properly.

I will say it, it's been a while since I read an IF with this deep level of emotional inmersion, and I'm satisfied by it. I enjoyed the whole reading process, since the start to the end. It's a truly curated play, and I have doubts about it.

The setting is confusing, it's murky, and that's a great feeling when the story is about an amnesiac MC. You know there's something in there, almost like as I said before, we are not getting the whole perspective on it. This reminds me of an expresion that I read on a Japanese VN "You cannot truly hurt the moon, because you are unable to see it's truth form. So you will end stabbing the moon's reflection against the lake instead."

So we lack about of information, but the author manages to pull it properly, and it doesn't become a bother. On the contrary, it's like a puzzle slowly being completed, and you just want more and more pieces.

I like how the narrative goes into themes, and into situations that a lot of authors are afraid to go in. And I love to be able to look and analyze the psyche of the two actors in this play.

So I hope I can read more of this in a future, since this is a truly well done piece.

[mint-yooxgi]

{8} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Slight focus on Jongho this chapter)

Words: 9,844

Warnings: Blood mentioned, mentions and allusion to past sexual assault, sleazy comments (not said by any of the guys), violence. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is! Part one of what was only supposed to be one chapter. I almost debated splitting it into three parts given how much I still need to write for the next part, but I think two separate chapters instead of one should be fine. Anyways, I just wanted to get this out for you guys since I know you’ve all been waiting so patiently. The next part should be out tomorrow. I was going to do my best to have it all finished b tonight, but I have a really bad headache and feel like I'm ready to pass out soon. So, anyways, I still think you’ll enjoy what this chapter has in store, and I hope it makes you eager for the next chapter as well. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Mini Masterlist

The next day, you end up sleeping in later than usual. When you do wake, you feel slightly more groggy than normal, movements sluggish as you pull yourself out of bed. Heading towards the bathroom, you freshen yourself up a bit before trudging out of your room and down the hall.

Blinking a few times, you bring a hand up to rub at your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips. Though, as soon as you reach the main foyer and your gaze refocusses, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“What the fuck!” Your voice ringing out, loud and clear, echoes throughout the room.

In an instant, all eight men are surrounding you, worry on all of their features. You can tell some of them seemingly also had a late start to their day, toothbrushes hanging out of both Jongho’s and San’s mouths, while Wooyoung still looks like he’s in his pyjamas.

“What? What’s wrong?” Wooyoung takes a step towards you cautiously.

You blink, caught off guard momentarily by his newly skunk dyed hair. Though, from the looks of things, he’s not the only one who’s suddenly changed his hair colour overnight. 

Both San and Seonghwa sport pink strands now. Seonghwa’s is more of a pastel shade of pink, contrasting his stark black hair you had become so used to on him. San’s, on the other hand, is a bright hot pink, pushed slightly away from his forehead for the moment with a headband. Even Hongjoong sports an almost electric blue, his locks shorter than they were when you saw him last night.

One thing is for sure, though. They all look good.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, shaking your head to clear your thoughts in the next second. Then, you’re motion to the ground before your feet. “Why are there drops of blood everywhere? Are you guys okay?”

This time, it’s their turn to blink at you. Their mild jealous anger that still lingers from last night almost dissipating completely as they hear the concern clear in your voice. Truly, you have no idea what this means to them - for you to worry about them like this. Warmth floods their chests as soft smiles paint their features.

“What happened?” You continue to scan your gaze over the area, seemingly paying no mind to how fond they’re looking at you so suddenly. “Is this why you guys were so late getting back last night?” Then, as if realizing something, you practically freeze in your spot. “When did you guys get back last night?”

“The council meeting took us longer than we thought it would,” Yunho is the first to respond.

“Did something happen?” Your brow is furrowed as you look towards him, and Yunho cannot deny the way that his heart races in his chest at having your concerned filled gaze be directed entirely at him.

“You could say that.” Seonghwa sighs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

It’s then that you shift your gaze to him, his spine straightening slightly beneath that same look on your features now being projected towards him.

“I repeat,” you glance around at all of them, “are you all okay?”

“We’re all fine,” Yeosang assures you with a soft smile painting his features.

“Never better,” Jongho pulls the toothbrush out of his mouth long enough to respond.

“Then why-“

“It’s not our blood.” Hongjoong cuts you off, and immediately you’re locking eyes with him.

“Oh, thank fuck.” The relieved sigh that escapes you is probably much louder than you intend, but at this point, you don’t care. Then, it’s as if his words finally sink in. “Wait, what?”

“We had some business to attend to after the council had finished for the evening.” Mingi informs you.

Realization crosses your features as you nod once, “I see.”

“Believe me, the other guys look worse,” Wooyoung jokes.

“I should hope so,” you snort, surprising even yourself by how unafraid you are in this moment. “Someone challenge your rule or something?”

“You have no idea,” finally, San speaks, holding his own toothbrush inches away from his mouth as he sighs.

“Okay,” your eyebrows raise, slightly amused. “Remind me not to cross you guys at any point in time.”

“My Love, you know we would never hurt you.” Hongjoong’s brow furrows slightly. Even if he knows you’re saying it partially as a joke, he cannot help but worry that you’re not taking that particular vow of theirs seriously.

“I know.” You hum, and they all look taken aback by your admission as your eyes roam over the dried droplets of blood on the floor once more. “I believe you.”

Really, you have no idea how much those words mean to them. Especially right now, as you say them in such a casual tone. Almost like a second thought.

First, you show clear worry for them. Now, you’re admitting to trusting them? Well, there is simply no greater feeling in the world. Despite what they believe to be a huge setback based on the events of last night, perhaps they’ve made more progress with you than they originally thought. Maybe they should leave you by yourself more often, especially if you act like this the very next day.

Still, they’d prefer not coming back to the same events as last night ever again.

“What time did you get back last night, anyways?” You turn back to look at them, failing to notice the way they all seem to stiffen the slightest bit at your inquiry.

San, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Mingi all have to suppress the growls that want to build in their chests as they recall the incident they stumbled home upon last night. Though, the other four aren’t doing much better. They’re just able to hide it well.

“Sometime after one, probably,” Yeosang is quick to break the building silence between all of you.

“Ah, I see,” you nod. If you recall correctly, you passed out just shortly before then.

A tense twitch upwards of your lips. You cut it real close then, last night. Thank fuck they got home later, just like you thought they would.

“We apologize if we worried you,” Yunho adds, and they all watch your reaction carefully.

“No, no,” you wave him off, a slight heat rising to your cheeks as you think back to how you were feeling while getting ready for bed last night. You fail to see the way his own lips twitch upwards in response, brow quirking ever so slightly. “Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting you guys to be gone for so long, is all.”

“We won’t ever make you wait that long for us again.” It’s Seonghwa who says this, meeting your gaze with an intense sincerity shining within his own that you’ve not quite seen from him before. 

Besides, if they had gotten home sooner, maybe then one of them could have helped you out, in more ways than one.

“It’s fine,” you chuckle, leaning back on the desk behind you where you notice one of their hats to be sitting. “Really.”

“We don’t necessarily enjoy leaving you by yourself for long periods of time.” Hongjoong voices, and you notice the way he seems to swallow, his throat bobbing with the movement.

“Oh, believe me,” you let out an amused huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “I noticed. Though, I have to admit, it was nice not having to worry about you guys reading my thoughts all the time.”

Something within their eyes flash, and this time, San and Mingi cannot suppress their growls. Besides, it has been a bit more difficult to read your thoughts lately thanks to that damn void you constantly think of now. You fail to see the way the two eldest shoot a side eyed glance in Yunho’s direction.

Your eyebrows raise dramatically, “is something wrong?”

“Not at all.” Jongho replies, a tight smile tugging at his lips.

“Right,” you drawl out the word, brow quirked as you look around at all of them once more. “Anyways, since you’re all here, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Anything,” Yeosang breathes out almost immediately, taking a small step towards you somewhat eagerly.

“I would like to go to the mall.”

They all blink at you in response, slightly caught off guard by your admission.

“Why?” There’s no malice in Wooyoung’s voice, only genuine curiosity.

“As much as I enjoy spending time in this house, I could use some human interaction.” You reply. “Plus, I need to get a few things for myself while we’re out.”

“Just tell us what you need and we’ll get it for you.” San’s response is immediate, him blinking at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

The retort you originally had been going to say dies in your throat as you think of something much better. An idea which has your lips twitching upwards in the corner as your brow quirks at all of them.

“So, you don’t want to spend the day out with me?” The smirk that pulls onto your features is deadly, and from the way they all stiffen, you know you’ve got them right where you want them. You begin to push yourself off of the desk you’re leaning against, “I understand if you’re all busy-“

In the blink of an eye, Jongho disappears, and then reappears, looking slightly more put together. His toothbrush is no longer held in his hand, and his hair is now brushed. He takes a step towards you, “let’s go.”

“Woah, hold on a second,” you chuckle, raising your one hand in a ‘wait’ gesture. “I need to change first.”

“We’ll go as soon as you’re ready, then.” It’s Hongjoong who answers you, already sitting on one of the couches in the foyer seeing as he’s already dressed for the day.

“Great!” You smile, excitedly scurrying back down the hallway and to your room. Then, from over your shoulder, you call, “give me half an hour!”

You’re so eager to get out of the house that it really only takes you twenty minutes to change and finish getting ready for the day. There’s a small spring to your step as you traverse back down the hallway, your purse slung over your shoulder as it practically bounces off of your side with every move you make.

Stepping back into the foyer, you notice that the blood has seemingly been cleaned up since you left to get ready. The hat that was previously on the desk is missing, too.

“Alright,” you cross your arms expectantly over your chest, a smile on your face as all eight of them turn towards you, “let’s go.”

“What mall do you want to go to?” Mingi asks, already making his way over to stand beside you before any one of his brothers can.

“Uh,” you blink, “honestly, I didn’t think I would get this far…” you trail off, before your eyebrow quirks playfully. “The one I used to work at should be fine.”

A few ‘okay’s and ‘alright’s echo around the room as Mingi moves to place his hand onto the small of your back. However, before he does so, he looks to you for confirmation. A fact which makes you blink slightly in shock, the simple act warming your heart more than you expect it to.

As soon as he gets a nod from you, your lips pulling into a soft smile, his hand is on your back. In the blink of an eye, he’s transported you outside one of the lesser known employee entrances, his brothers appearing right beside you.

You take a step forward, “gosh, this brings back memories.”

“Yeah?” San quirks a brow as he opens the side door for you.

“Yeah,” you nod in thanks as you walk past, the others following close behind. “On break, my coworkers and I would always hide out here during the holiday season so we wouldn’t get bothered by angry shoppers. I can’t count the amount of times people would try and stop us in the hallways, asking us about products from other stores which we didn’t work at, only to get mad at us when we told them that.”

“That’s stupid,” Yeosang’s brow furrows into a frown.

“You’re telling me,” you roll your eyes, leading them through the back hallways until you’re reaching the doors that will actually lead you into the main section of the mall. “Honestly, working retail is hell.”

“Now, that I can believe,” Wooyoung nods, hopping forwards to open the next door that appears just as you go to reach for it.

“Now I know why you weren’t that afraid at first when your friend summoned us,” Yunho jokes as you all step into the main hallway.

“Probably,” you snort, nodding slightly as your lips quirk upwards in the corners. “Retail workers are braver than anybody I know. The shit we have to put up with is remarkable.”

“I bet,” Mingi grins, along with his brothers. Really, they’re all more than ecstatic that you’re opening up to them like this.

“Where to first?” Seonghwa steps up beside you on your left as your head scans the hallway.

In an instant, your eyes are lighting up, lips parting slightly as your jaw drops. Your one hand comes up to tap excitedly at Jongho’s arm, who stands beside you to your right.

“Look!” You motion with your head as a large smile paints your features, already grabbing his hand in yours to drag him towards the bookstore a little ways down the hall. “The new book is out!”

The others can only blink in shock as Jongho turns to shoot them a smug grin as you lead him across the way and down to the bookstore. Immediately, the others are following close behind, San and Wooyoung grumbling in their minds about wanting you to drag them around with you next. Even Mingi cannot hide the pout that pulls onto his features at the way you so animatedly talk to Jongho for the moment about this new book.

“The cover is even more beautiful that I thought it would be,” you say, picking it up to run your fingers over the detailing of the design. You open the front cover, eyes catching on what’s printed there before turning it around to show Jongho. “And it’s a special edition!”

You begin to ramble as you walk into the store beside him, the other seven following close behind like lost puppies. Each so desperately wants to be able to share in this moment with you, and they do, in their own ways, but it’s not the same. At least Jongho knows what you’re talking about as you begin discussing the events in the past book, and your predictions for this new one.

Jealous wouldn’t even begin to describe them right now, and they’ve only just gotten here.

Then, as if you’ve read their minds, you’re turning to the seven of them. “I am so sorry for the person I become when I enter a bookstore.”

“My Love, there is no reason to apologize for who you are,” Hongjoong is the first to respond, a soft smile gracing his features. 

Despite the jealous pit burning within him once more, it still warms his heart to see you so passionate about something. The way your eyes shine as you quickly glance around the store only makes him fall even harder for you in this very moment. A fact which he knows all of his brothers are revelling in, too.

You smile softly, almost bashfully, as you avert your gaze. “Anyways, I’m probably going to be, like, an hour or so in here. So, you guys don’t need to hover around me the whole time.”

They all quirk a brow, save for Jongho who still stands right beside you.

“Let me rephrase that,” you begin. “Please don’t hover. I’ll feel crowded and rushed. I’ll be with Jongho, anyways, so you don’t need to worry.”

Before any of them can respond, Jongho is grabbing your hand in his once more, that same smug smirk tugging at his lips. “You heard her.”

This time, it’s him that drags you away from the others, leading you to the second story of the store to start there before any of them can protest.

You little shit. Yunho blinks in disbelief, gaze locked on Jongho’s back as he watches the two of you head up the escalators.

What can I say? He turns to shoot a pointed look down at the seven of them who have yet to move from their spots. You snooze, you lose.

Remind me to rip his head off later. San grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Hey! Jongho whines. That’s not very nice!

Neither is stealing our love away to spend some alone time together when we’re supposed to all be spending the day with her. Yeosang retorts, casually looking over the table beside him which houses some books on music that catch his interest.

Whether we like it or not, this is something that we’ll have to get used to. Hongjoong adds, walking over to a display with a bunch of horror novels on it.

We’ll all have our moment, soon enough. Mingi is hopeful, saying this more to reassure himself than anything.

Yeah, well, I just wish it was sooner, rather than later. Seonghwa grumbles.

We all do, Wooyoung responds, heading over to the escalators with San to follow you and Jongho upstairs. Let’s just take it one step at a time.

That’s rich, coming from you. Yunho nearly snorts as he begins to browse the lower level, finding a section on art fairly quickly and smiling as he takes in all of the different books.

Hey! This time it’s Wooyoung who whines. At least I’m not the most impatient.

You’re definitely up there. Yeosang smirks, grabbing a book off of the table to flip through it briefly.

Let’s just enjoy today while we can, yeah? San voices, heading over to the cookbooks with Wooyoung in tow. 

Considering the night we had, I’m living for the fact that she actually wanted to spend some time with us today. Seonghwa is the next to head over to the escalators, eyes scanning the entirety of the store and taking it all in as he heads upstairs.

Exactly. Mingi practically sighs in bliss. San’s right. Let’s enjoy it while we can.

Have you guys noticed she seems much more chipper today? Jongho comments. Like, more open and accepting towards us?

The fact that she was clearly worried about us when she saw the blood on the floor makes me wonder, too. Yunho hums, somewhat knowingly.

You know, I hate to say it, Wooyoung begins, somewhat exasperatedly, but that’s what a good orgasm can do. Especially when you’re frustrated.

Were it not for the fact that they’re all in public, the snarls that build in their throats would have long since been vocalized.

Let’s just make sure that the next time she needs some relief, she comes to one of us, then. Seonghwa’s voice is firm, the others immediately agreeing right along with him.

How about we not put a damper on today? Hongjoong sighs, placing the horror novel that he was looking at back onto the display before picking up another one. I don’t like it anymore than all of you do, but what’s passed has passed. We’re not going to change it now. Seonghwa is right, let’s just make sure she calls for one of us if something like that were to happen again. I don’t want our sour moods from last night to affect what could be the start of a beautiful day out with our love.

A chorus of agreements come from every single one of them as they all continue to browse the store.

Still sucks, though. San grumbles. Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Mingi all mumbling their agreement soon after.

Though, what truly gets them to shut up is a mental image projected into all of their minds a moment later, curtesy of Jongho. You seem to be standing in front of the Manga section, a large smile on your face as you turn to look at him from over your shoulder. Either you or him have just said something funny, for you’re letting out the most melodic laugh that they’ve ever heard in their entire lives in the next second.

They all go quiet, hearts warming at this small intimacy shared between all of them. Hell, San, Yunho, and Seonghwa nearly all drop the books that they had been holding at the time when the image first appeared in their minds.

Thank you, Jongho. It’s Yeosang who breaks the silence between all of them first. I really needed that right now.

I think we all did. Mingi’s reply is soft, lips tugging upwards gently as he blinks a few times to clear away the sudden tears that spring to his eyes from the intimacy of this shared memory.

I knew you’d all appreciate that as much as I did. There’s a smile in Jongho’s reply. They can hear it reflected in the fondness echoing throughout their heads as they’re sure he’s still watching you with that same lovestruck expression on his face that they know is mirrored on all of their own.

Sure enough, his gaze is loving as he watches you turn to face him once more, adjusting the strap of your purse over your one shoulder.

You grin, “this is why I keep a list of volumes I still need to collect on my phone.”

In an instant, you’re pulling out said object, unlocking it and opening the notes application. Scrolling through, you start at the beginning, taking your time to look through all of the titles to see if this bookstore has any of the volumes that you’re missing. It’s been a while since you’ve added to your collection, anyways.

Taking a step forwards, Jongho casually leans in to peer around your shoulder. Sure, he’s been close to you in the past, but not like this. A fact which just makes a hum of content build in his chest, especially since he can practically feel your body heat radiating against his own. 

You don’t seem to be uncomfortable, save for the slight way you stiffen at first when he gets in close, but he chalks that up to you simply being surprised by his sudden proximity. In fact, if Jongho didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re practically melting into him right now, as if you’re eager to lean into his grip, and he’s not even touching you yet.

That’s when he steps closer, practically pressing himself into your back as his hands find purchase on your waist. The best part is, you let him.

“What ones are you missing?” He asks, voice low right by your ear and sending a shiver down your spine involuntarily. A fact in which he notices, causing a subtle smirk to pull at his lips.

“Uh,” you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat as you scroll to the bottom of the list, “if you want to look for these ones,” you motion to the five bottom titles that appear on the screen vaguely with your thumb, “that would be great.”

“Of course, Darling,” his breath ghosts against the skin of your neck, causing a pleasant shiver to trail down your spine.

Then, just as quickly as the moment comes, it passes. In the blink of an eye, Jongho is already down by the opposite end of the shelves, crouching down to begin looking for the volumes of manga you just told him about.

You swallow once more, turning your attention to the shelves in front of you. Though, now, you find you can hardly focus on the titles, too caught up in the way his hands felt against your body. The ghost of his breath, and touch, still warms your skin.

Little do you know of the smirk that still tugs at the corner of his lips. He can feel you gazing at him out of the corner of your eyes. Fleeting glances as if you don’t want to be caught staring. Yet, Jongho doesn’t mind. In fact, he revels in your gaze. So much so, that he cannot help but take a knee. Leaning into the shelf a bit as if he’s looking at a series you’ve just told him to search for - which he is, in a way - Jongho extends his one leg out slightly, opposite knee raised in the air as he purposely flexes the muscle of his thigh.

The way he can hear your breath hitch in your throat has a pleased rumble building in his chest. He can’t count the amount of times he’s caught you sneaking glances at his body, especially at his thighs. To know that he can have this effect on you, without so much as doing anything, is profound. Truly, there is no greater feeling than knowing that he can affect you as badly as you affect him.

Then, as if he hadn’t just been putting himself on display for you, he reaches out to grab a volume off of the shelf. An innocent smile pulls at his features as he turns to look at you, showcasing the manga in his hand excitedly, “found one!”

Your smile is genuine, if not somewhat embarrassed at the possibility that you’ve just been caught checking him out. “Great!”

Intently, you stare at the shelf in front of you once you turn your attention back to it. At least five minutes must pass by until you’re blinking, finally able to clear your thoughts for the moment as you focus on the task at hand. Ten minutes later, and you’ve pulled five other volumes off of the shelf that you’re missing, Jongho managing to grab three more for you, too.

As soon as you attempt to take the manga from his hands, he’s quirking a brow at you. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to hold my books,” you reply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What’s that?” He grins, teasingly. “You want me to hold all of your books for you? I’d love to.”

In the blink of an eye, he has your entire stack of books in his hands, a bright smile on his face. You have no idea how he managed to do that, given that your stack of books had been securely held in your own hands only moments before. 

You blink at him before a huff is escaping your lips, muttering under your breath, “damn demons and their damn powers."

Jongho only chuckles in response, motioning for you to lead on with his head.

Shaking your own, you smile to yourself, leading him on the the next section you usually peruse when you enter a bookshop. Only, when you reach where you remember it being last, it’s suddenly not there anymore. 

Your brow furrows slightly, looking around for an employee to help guide you in the right direction.

“You know, if there’s anything that you want to check out, just let me know,” you say casually as you walk back out into one of the main aisles, spotting a worker at one of the kiosks.

“Oh, believe me,” Jongho, again, has to suppress the growl that wants to escape him at the suggestive undertone of your words. Sure, you may not particularly mean them in that way, but he cannot help but to think of all of the ways in which he wants to check you out. Especially after last night. “I will.”

Soon, your voice manages to pull him out of his much too vivid thoughts about pushing you up against one of these shelves and claiming your lips with his own in a passionate kiss while no one’s around.

“Excuse me,” you begin, grabbing the attention of the worker at the kiosk. As soon as they turn around, your eyes are widening right alongside their own, “oh my god, Lainie?"

An excited squeal of your name is all you get in response as she wraps you in a hug. One of which you eagerly return.

“It’s so good to see you!” She says, pulling away to stare into your eyes as she holds you at arms length. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“I know, right?” You grin. “I’m well, just busy. You know, the usual. How are you? How’s the team? I miss them.”

“Oh, I get that,” she nods, dropping her hands as her eyes widen in understanding. “And I’ve been good, just working on some final projects for school. It’s been good here, same old, same old. Customers are good, some are bad.” She shrugs, then she’s smiling softly. “We all miss you, too. You should come visit more often!”

“I’ve been meaning to, I swear,” you reply, eyes briefly glancing over at Jongho who stands a little ways off to the side, making himself look busy by browsing through the books on display in front of him. “I promise I’ll try and stop by more often.”

“You better,” she threatens teasingly, wagging her finger at you. “We still have to hang out sometime, remember?”

“Of course!” You smile, nodding your head. “Is anyone else from the team in today that I know?”

“Ops was in earlier, but they all left already, unfortunately.” She tells you.

“Damn, I was hoping to say ‘hi’,” you sigh. “Next time, then.”

“Actually, unfortunately, I think Henry is still in,” she grimaces, and you both share a look. “So, be careful.”

“Who’s Henry?” Of course it would be now that Jongho decides it best to insert himself into the conversation.

“Oh, who’s this?” Lainie begins to look between Jongho and you with a quirked eyebrow, a knowing gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“He’s not-“

“Pleasure to meet you, Lainie,” Jongho smiles, turning on the charm as he extends a hand out for her to shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Of course Jongho would take every and any opportunity he can get to make people think he’s your significant other. It’s only been one of his greatest desires since he first saw you all those months ago. He’s not about to let you deny him that simple pleasure, especially not after the events of last night. Even if you turn to shoot him a pointed look from beside him as a result, nudging him slightly with your elbow subtly.

So far, he likes Lainie, hearing no malcontent in her thoughts towards you. Plus, you have talked about her a few times briefly in passing when you mention books you’ve been recommended in the past. In fact, he can tell just how much you adore each other as friends, even without hearing her thoughts projecting themselves shamelessly throughout the room. That’s why he didn’t bother interrupting until now. Both of your reactions, not to mention her own thoughts when she said this other male’s name, nearly had a scowl pulling at his lips.

“Oh, have you now?” She shoots you another knowing look as she shakes his hand, a giggle on her lips. It’s then that she sees your stack of books held in his opposite arm. “I see you’ve found yourself a gentleman.” At the topmost book she sees laying on the pile, of which he must have just added, she grins widely at you. “A gentleman who likes to read.”

“Lainie,” you shoot her a look, tight smile on your features as you can practically feel Jongho revelling in her praise.

It may be small, but knowing he’s gotten one of your friend’s approval means more to him than you’ll ever know. Which is exactly why when he did a brief examination of her thoughts, he grabbed her favourite book off of the shelf to seek that acceptance, especially if it meant her saying something in front of you. If others can see how good he is for you, then it’s only a matter of time before you do as well.

Little do you know of the three sets of ears on the same floor eavesdropping from around a few shelves, scowls resting on their faces as they can hear Jongho’s smug thoughts echoing Lainie’s compliments. It’s like he’s doing this on purpose to torture them, San and Wooyoung no longer focussing on the cookbooks in front of them as they share a brief look between each other. Even Seonghwa, who had been browsing through the romance section, nearly tears the novel in his hands to shreds.

The youngest is really pushing his luck right now, but at least there’s one thing that they can all agree on. None of them like this Henry guy, and they don’t even know what he looks like yet.

Only, before Jongho can bring up the point again, you’re cutting him off.

“Hey, where did we move fantasy to? It’s not where it usually is.” You say, drawing her attention back to you once more.

“Oh, follow me!” She immediately starts leading you to the opposite side of the store on the same level. “Yeah, we just moved sci-fi and fantasy the other week. Confused the shit out of our regulars.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle, noticing how Jongho remains silent for the moment.

“Anyways, here you go,” she motions down one of the last aisles of the floor. “I don’t want to keep you guys for too long, and I should probably get back to actually doing my job. If you need anything else, you know where to find me!”

“Thanks, Lainie,” you smile at her, waving after her as she walks off. “Will do.”

As soon as you see her disappear, you’re heading into the fantasy section. Only, you barely make it two steps in when Jongho is rounding on you, a fire lighting behind his eyes as he watches you carefully.

“Who’s Henry?” His voice is stern, but for some reason, you have a feeling it’s more out of concern for you than anything else.

You spare a brief glance in Jongho’s direction before you let out a sigh, “not a coworker I enjoy talking about.”

From the way he takes a small step towards you, you know that he’s begging to ask you why, but from the way he hesitates, you know that he’s doing his best to respect your boundaries and not pry. A fact which warms your heart for the moment, comforting you even if only slightly.

The last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable, for this topic already seems to be making you tense. A fact in which drives him insane knowing that there’s nothing he can do to alleviate your distress for the moment.

“I’ll tell you later,” you shoot him a tight smile. “For now, let’s just leave it at the fact that he makes me, and a lot of my other female presenting friends and coworkers, uncomfortable.”

“He’s one of those guys.” Jongho’s eyes widen in acknowledgement, the disgust clear in his tone.

“Thinks he can get away with anything just because he’s the boss’ son.” You spit, somewhat harshly, turning back to the shelves in front of you.

This time, Jongho doesn’t suppress the low growl that builds in his throat, eyes dark as he attempts to put a leash on his anger for the moment. Slowly, he puts the stack of your books in his hands down on one of the shelves beside him. It’s taking everything in him right now not to hunt this fucker down in the store right now and make him pay for everything he’s done to both you, and to others that you care about.

“Has he-“ Jongho practically snarls, lips curling over bared teeth at the mere thought of this bastard hurting you in any way. “Has he-“

You blink, sparing him a glance out of the corner of your eyes. “He’s tried, but so far, I’ve been lucky. He’s just really touchy with me. Makes comments, too.”

Jongho doesn’t even need to ask, he can tell just from your body language the types of advances this slug has made on you. He growls lowly once more, echoed by another, one aisle over.

Your eyebrows raise ever so slightly, “honestly, if I can’t tell you guys apart by snarls alone in a few month’s time, it’ll be a miracle.”

Within the next moment, Seonghwa is rounding the corner, a stack of five books held in his own hands.

“It’s a miracle we don’t tear this bastard apart for what he’s done to you.” He keeps his voice low, a scowl pulling at his features as he comes to stand beside Jongho.

Your eyes go wide, “okay, maybe don’t do that.”

“Believe me, it’s not the worst thing we’re thinking about doing to him.” Jongho briefly meets Seonghwa’s gaze, their eyes flashing beneath the artificial lights of the shop.

“I don’t think tearing him apart, or whatever you’re thinking of doing, in the middle of the store is going to be as effective as you think,” you smile tightly, a slight nervousness to your voice.

A moment of silence passes between you.

“Wooyoung’s complaining you won’t let him at least rip one of his arms off.” Seonghwa states casually, as if it’s the most normal conversation ever.

“Shhh,” your eyes go wide, “keep your voice down!”

Carefully, you look side to side, worried you might be overheard by other customers in the general area.

“Is that why you look like a deer in headlights right now?” Jongho chuckles. “Cause you’re worried about someone overhearing us?”

Your lips purse into a tight line, eyes darting between the two males standing across from you. “Perhaps.”

“Don’t worry, Darling,” Jongho smirks, “there’s no one around to overhear this conversation right now. Well, other than us, of course.”

You shake your head, turning back to the books in front of you and scanning over the titles briefly. “Damn demons and their damn powers.”

Jongho chuckles, recognizing your words from earlier.

“Have you all been eavesdropping this whole time?” You turn to shoot a pointed look at Seonghwa, knowing the other six can hear you right now as well.

“No!” Seonghwa is quick to respond, brow furrowing as he shakes his head.

Jongho nearly scoffs, hearing a resounding ’yes’ come from his other brothers scattered throughout the store.

Even you don’t look convinced as you hum to yourself, turning back to the shelf in front of you only to pull two novels off of it in the next second.

“Wooyoung still wants to know if the dismemberment is completely off of the table.” Seonghwa says casually, browsing the shelf to his left and no longer even looking at you.

You hesitate for a moment, lips parting as a small ‘uh’ escapes you.

That’s when Jongho’s eyes are widening ever so slightly in amusement as realization crosses his features. “You’ve thought about it before.”

She’s picturing it right now. Yunho’s voice in all of their heads nearly has a pleased groan escaping all of them. Though, none are as affected as Hongjoong, who suddenly has to support himself using one hand on the table that he had been perusing.

A brief moment of silence passes between the three of you as you place the two books in your hand beside the stack you already have going.

“Perhaps.” You shrug. “Though, it’s a little too bloody considering all of the books around here. It’d be a shame to damage such beautiful products with such a vile man’s blood.”

Where the hell is this coming from? San’s voice resounds, almost eagerly, in all of their heads.

Are you really complaining? Mingi quirks a brow as he browses a table full of mystery books, even though he knows none of them can see him right now.

Seems as if our love isn’t as innocent as we thought. Yeosang hums, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine as both he and Yunho lock eyes from across the store, smirks pulling onto their features.

“What would you have us do?” Seonghwa breathlessly replies as he places his own stack of books onto a shelf to his left. His gaze is desperate, pleading with you to see how ready and willing he is - how eager they all are - to serve you. Anything and everything you may want them to do right now, they would. No questions asked.

“Woah,” you raise a hand as if to say ‘slow down’, “I may have thought about it, but it doesn’t mean I actually want something bad to happen. I still have my own morals to consider-“

Suddenly, the sound of your name being called out from the opposite end of the aisle is drawing your attention. You freeze immediately, heart thundering in your chest as you turn around stiffly.

He snuck up on you. Probably came from one of the backrooms nearby.

“Henry,” you force a smile to your face as the two males behind you stiffen. “Hey.”

Immediately, you take a step backwards as said male approaches you with an overtly friendly smile on his face. Both Seonghwa and Jongho step forward, flanking you on either side as they stare down the sleazy male approaching you with open arms.

“What? No hug for an old friend?” He pouts as he stands directly across from you, a little too close for comfort.

Jongho’s free arm is around your lower back in a second, pulling you into him protectively. Likewise, the eldest takes another step in closer to you, his one arm slightly reaching out in front of you for added protection. Snarls nearly tug at both Jongho’s and Seonghwa’s lips as they feel Henry give them each a once over. His thoughts aren’t faring much better, either, only causing each demon’s anger to grow the longer you are kept in this situation.

“We were never friends.” You blink at him, and you can see how taken aback he is by your words. Hell, if it weren’t for both males standing protectively around you, you don’t think you would have had the courage to say such a thing to the man across from you.

“Oh, come on,” Henry huffs, a roll to his eyes. “Don’t be like that, sweetheart.”

Both males beside you can feel how physically repulsed you are when he says this, growls threatening to fall from their lips as they glare at the slug across from them. They want nothing more than to tear into this bastard’s flesh, ripping him limb from limb for even thinking he ever stood a chance with you. The fact that Henry has deluded himself into believing his advances were reciprocated disgusts them.

To say that they’re all furious would be a severe understatement.

Fuck it. Your voice resounding through their heads - all eight of them - as you drop your void for the moment, has each one of their hearts skipping a beat in their chests. If he so much as tries anything… they hang on to your every word with bated breath. Break his hands.

If Wooyoung could roar in happiness, he would do so this very instant. Instead, he begins to calmly make his way over to the section that you’re in, San following close behind with that same look of deadly calm on his own features. However, it’s Hongjoong that cannot suppress the maniacal grin that stretches across his lips as he focusses almost too intently on the summary of the book held in his hand.

“Don’t call me that.” Your tone is harsh, all forced sense of social etiquette disappearing from your features immediately.

“You never had an issue with it before,” he retorts with a huff. “Sweetheart.”

The disgust is clear on your features, fury bubbling beneath your skin and rolling through you like waves. The scowl that pulls at your features is dark enough to mirror both Seonghwa’s and Jongho’s own, leaning further into the younger male for support as his grip tightens around your waist.

“What’s with that sour look on your face?” Henry scoffs, quirking a brow. “I thought I told you that you’d be prettier if you smiled more.”

“Watch your fucking tongue, mortal.” 

It takes Seonghwa all the strength he has in him not to lunge at the man standing directly across from him in that very moment. Nobody talks to his Queen like that and gets away with it. A sentiment that he knows is shared by all of his brothers, especially when he sees both San and Wooyoung round the opposite corner of the aisle, black eyes on full display. Each male’s teeth are bared in a growl, hands visibly shaking as they all attempt to put a leash on their anger for your sake.

The last thing that any of them want to do is scare you away. Especially not after all the progress they’ve been making with you in the past few weeks alone. Besides, you’ve essentially asked them all to control themselves for the moment, and that’s exactly what they’re going to do. For you.

Downstairs, the four remaining demons immediately head towards the escalators, making their way upstairs as calmly as they can. Though, internally, there are storms raging within each one of them.

Jongho can feel you beginning to tremble from anger in his arms, and as soon as you place a hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, he can feel it, too. Though, he doesn’t know if it’s more for you or for him at this point, but it helps to calm him, even if only the slightest bit.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes only momentarily to steady your nerves. Then, your entire body goes still as you exhale slowly through your nose.

Your eyes snap open, a harsh glare none of them have ever seen your wear gracing your features. “You’re not even worth my time."

It happens instantaneously. As soon as you go to turn around, Henry is reaching out to stop you. Only, a resounding crunch echoes through your ears as you shift to see Seonghwa harshly crushing Henry’s wrist in his hand, the human male’s fingers twitching as his face pales in horror. 

Tears line Henry’s vision as his mouth falls open in a silent scream, as if his voice has suddenly been stolen away from him. Which it has.

“If you ever lay a single finger on My Divine again,” Seonghwa’s voice is low, ominous like the threat of an approaching storm as his eyes flash black, “I’ll destroy you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, blinking a few times in shock at the sudden turn of events. Sure, you may have given them permission to do so, but you didn’t actually think anything would happen. Then again, you shouldn’t really be surprised at this point. They have stated time and time again that they would do anything for you.

Still, you do not want to admit to yourself the way your heart simply fluttered at the fact that he not only listened to you, but defended you without a second thought. You also don’t want to admit how insanely attractive you just found that to be. Maybe having them protect you isn’t such a bad thing, after all.

The longer Seonghwa stands crushing Henry’s wrist in his hand, the more tears spring to Henry’s eyes. His mouth parts like a fish out of water, words stolen from him like he’s under some type of spell. That’s when you realize, he probably is.

Then, an insurmountable amount of rage burns behind Henry’s eyes, going to take a swing at Seonghwa with his free arm. Only, before he can so much as pull his fist back, two resounding cracks echo through the space before you.

Another silent scream tears from Henry’s throat as he is forced to his knees. Both Wooyoung and San now each hold one of his arms behind his back, his shoulders clearly broken and dislocated. 

You don’t even need to turn to look at Jongho to know that his eyes are as black as each of his brother’s right now, his arm still securely wrapped around your waist.

“You’re fucking lucky we don’t kill you right now, you slug,” Wooyoung hisses into Henry’s ear, pulling harshly at his arm and causing a few more pops to be heard.

There’s something about the way you see pure, unaltered fear flash in Henry’s eyes that excites you in this moment. Finally, he is feeling an ounce of what you, and his other victims much unluckier than you, have felt whenever he’s in the same vicinity.

It is then that the other four round the corner behind you, stepping up to assess the situation. Smirks already adorn each of their features, eyes flashing black as they stare down at the man on his knees before them. Ideas swirl within their minds already about how they’re each going to torture him after this, each more creative than the last.

Only, your void dropping once more to let them all in to your thoughts have them pausing briefly in their movements.

Uh, won’t someone notice what’s going on? Your voice is full of worry, eyes flitting to the opposite end of the row of shelves where one of the openings reside.

Yeosang steps up beside you, a reassuring smile on his features as he shakes his head ‘no’.

What do you mean, ‘no’? Your brow furrows, looking between all of them that you can see for the moment as you are still held firm in Jongho’s grip.

We can alter people’s consciousness to avoid certain places for a while if we want. Mingi explains to you, stepping up beside Yeosang to your left.

What about the cameras? You look between them, worry clear on your features now.

Already taken care of. San draws your attention to him as the corner of his lips tug upwards in a smirk.

What? How? You head tilts ever so slightly in curiosity.

It’s almost second nature for us to mess with the frequencies nowadays. Mingi shrugs casually, a soft grin on his lips as he sees your eyes widen in wonder.

A moment of silence settles over you all as you let their words sink in. Then, an idea is springing into your mind.

Question. You blink, and they all turn to look at you with much softer gazes as they feel that familiar curiosity swirling within you once more after going so long without it. Can you ‘alter people’s consciousness’ full stop?

There’s not a hint of fear in your own mind as you ask. A fact which warms their hearts more than you’ll ever know. Then again, perhaps you’re not thinking about whether they have ever done it to you yet, or not. Not that they ever would.

Consciousness, emotions, memories, reality: you name it. Yunho tells you, and they watch as you nod along subtly to his words before your eyes are going wide. The mind is a fickle thing.

Geez, you let out a huff through your nose, is there anything you guys can’t do?

Well, I can’t cook. Mingi supplies, an almost sheepish shrug to his shoulder.

The statement catches you so off guard that you let out a small snort of laughter.

Sorry, sorry, you raise a hand to wave it slightly in front of you in an apologetic motion. I just wasn’t expecting that given the situation right now.

Mingi shares a grin with you, happy to know that he could at least make you laugh even during such a tense moment as this one.

You are taking this surprisingly well. Hongjoong comments, stepping around the others to stand beside Seonghwa who leans against one of the shelves with his arms crossed in front of his chest, still glaring at Henry before him.

Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are right now. You reply, honestly. Maybe it’s because I feel safe when I’m with you guys. You shrug casually, unaware of how much your meaningful words affect them in this very moment in time. Though, it’s more than likely because I feel no remorse for this fucker. Like, at all.

At that, you all turn to look at the man practically pleading with you using just his eyes. Disgust washes over you, and all eight men are privy to your thoughts of gouging Henry’s eyes out just to make him stop staring at you like that.

Little do you know of the way that your thoughts affect each and every single one of them. Though, none are as affected as Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa are at the moment, pleased rumbles building in their chests as they allow your thoughts to echo shamelessly through their minds. Even San cannot help but to tighten his grip subconsciously around Henry’s arm in response, a pleasant shiver running down his spine.

Anyways, your voice draws their attention back to you once more, I know this is asking a lot, but killing him would be too easy. The reason I wanted to know that particular detail of your powers - which, I’ll admit, is terrifyingly cool, by the way - (they all smile at that, a smugness washing over them at the fact that they could impress you like this right now), is because I have an idea.

Anything. Yeosang repeats his word from earlier that day, all of their eyes shining as they wait with bated breath for your next words.

What would you have us do? San repeats Seonghwa’s words from only minutes earlier, meeting your gaze from across the way as eagerness shines in his dark irises. Anticipation claws at his chest, a feeling of which he knows is shared by all of his brothers right now.

Slowly, you take a step forward and out of Jongho’s arms in order to crouch down in front of Henry who looks at you with pleading eyes. The silence stretching on around him must be eating him alive right now, the unknown terror of what’s going to happen to him next clear in his eyes.

Your own gaze is blank as you tilt your head at him, almost mockingly, blinking once as you rest your elbows on your bent knees. Then, you smile. A malicious quirk of your lips upwards as you stare the man before you down.

“You’re never going to know peace again.” Your words are directed right at Henry, who whimpers as both San and Wooyoung tug at his broken arms once more to keep him from looking away. “You will constantly live in fear of something creeping in the shadows, hiding around every corner and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike you down every chance it gets. You will constantly have to watch your back, too afraid of the dark and what solitude can bring. You will know the terror every single one of us feels when walking alone at night, always feeling like someone is following you, ready and willing to attack at a moment’s notice.”

A tear trails down his cheek, eyes pleading as his fingers begin to twitch on the hand with his crushed wrist. You catch the movement.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” You hum, mocking sympathy as your lips tug downwards in a fake pout. That is, until you’re smirking once more. “Every time you so much as think of touching another person, you will be reminded of exactly how it felt for both of your shoulders to be broken. You will remember how it felt to feel helpless and terrified of what is coming next, scared for your pathetic excuse of a life. Every time you so much as reach for someone else, you will experience the pain of your wrist shattering beneath your skin, and be reminded that you do not own anyone.”

He begins thrashing in the two male’s grips, drawing more whimpers from his throat as tears flow freely from his eyes. You remain passive, observing him carefully.

He’s begging for mercy, isn’t he? You tilt your head once more to the side, eyes blank as you stare at him.

Embarrassingly so. Hongjoong hums, watching the scene before him with an unbelievably fond gaze as he leans back onto the shelf behind him.

Good. You let out a small puff of air through your nose in amusement.

“You will beg for death until the end, but find no comfort in it. Always, you will cling onto life, not quite knowing how, or why a useless waste of space like you has lasted for this long.” You smile, but it is anything but comforting as shadows fall over your features. “And if I ever see you lay your hands on another person again, if I so much as catch whiff of your disgusting scent, I will not be so kind.”

Another whimper escapes his throat as he meets your piercing gaze.

“Pathetic excuse of a human.” You spit. “You make me sick.”

Growls of approval echo all around you, causing your heart to race in your chest for a reason you don’t quite want to acknowledge just yet.

“Oh, and if you so much as try to tell anyone about anything that has transpired here today, or about your little issues, your voice will fail you as you suddenly cannot find the words to speak.” You add, that malicious smile still tugging at your lips. “I know that will be so difficult for you, since you never seem to know when to shut up, but you will. Whether you want to or not.”

You stand back to your full height, looking down at the man who has brought a countless amount of grief and terror to you, your friends and coworkers, and probably a numerous amount of others as well. 

You scowl, words like venom on your tongue. “The shadows are no longer your friends.”

Your final words resonate through the air as you turn your back to him. Bile rises in your throat as you think over everything that has just transpired in the past twenty minutes alone. 

Your one hand comes up to cover the lower half of your face as your eyes close. Did you really just do that? Not only that, but why did you enjoy it so much?

Slowly, you lower your one hand back to your side, eyes flashing open once more. I’m done here.

You don’t even bother to meet any of their gazes as you begin to walk past them. The sound of your footsteps echo alongside Henry’s muffled screams as they implement your wishes in his mind. It takes them no more than three seconds to do so, allowing the now unconscious male to slump onto the ground in a pathetic pool of his own tears.

[lemonjoonah]

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”  

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

[neonlights92]

RUN: Chapter VII (Epilogue.)

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for.  He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants.  So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly.  And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook.   So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos.  How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

Hey friends! Enjoy the epilogue <3  Namjoonie next..

You were pissed.

Jungkook had promised you he wouldn’t be late tonight.

It was your one year anniversary - one whole year of being married to the love of your life - and you were meant to be celebrating at a fancy restaurant with champagne and good food. 

You’d gotten all dressed up - squeezed yourself into some ridiculous contraption of a dress - just for him, and now it looked like you were going to miss your booking.

Eight o’clock passed…

Then eight-thirty…

Then nine…

By the time your husband finally decided to make an appearance it was more than an hour passed your reservation time.  You’d taken off your dress - kicked off your heels - and made a move on your makeup when the door to your bedroom clicked open.

“Hi Angel…” 

Jungkook’s sheepish tone greeted - and you chose not to answer - instead glaring at his reflection in your vanity mirror.

“I know, I know I’m late,” He’s pulled his tie and blazer off, the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his forearms.  You chose not to comment on the suspiciously red coloured stains peppering his collar.

“Happy anniversary to us, I guess.”  Your own voice was sharp and angry - in the year you’d been married to Jungkook he had made you feel special and loved - but that didn’t mean he still didn’t fuck up.

“I’m sorry baby,”  He moved towards you quickly, and you stood turning to face him, “It was - y’know… God.  It’s Bangtan.” The desperation on his face pulled at your heart strings.

You knew your husband’s job was important - you knew that as a member of the Special Seven - as Bangtan’s shadow he had more responsibilities than he would probably ever tell you. 

And you knew that you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him for long.

But still.  It was meant to be a special night for the two of you.  An acknowledgement of everything you’d been through together.

An acknowledgement of your love for one another.

You couldn’t help that you were disappointed.

“It’s alright,” You shrugged, “It’s part of the package, right?”

He sighed heavily and reached up to push some of your hair out of your face, “I hate disappointing you.”  His tone was tender and a little more of your anger fizzled out, “I love you so much Angel.  I always want to be with you - I always want to make you happy.  But I’m not always very good at it, huh?”

You chose not to say anything - slipping your bottom lip between your teeth and staring into the eyes of the man who had changed your life.

God.  Your heart swelled to nearly three times it’s size at the look on his face.

Such reverence and adoration - like you were a work of art.

He always made you feel special, like that.  

“I’m sorry baby,” His voice was sincere, “I really am.  I know tonight was meant to be special…. God.  What kind of husband leaves their wife waiting for them on their anniversary?” 

He laughed without humour, and you felt a stab of guilt.

“It’s okay Jungkook,” You licked your bottom lip and shrugged, “We’ll celebrate another time.”

He touched your face gently and frowned, “I know you’re disappointed… And you have every right to be, Y/N.  Tonight should’ve been about us.”

You sighed heavily, “What kept you out so late?”

His eyes darkened and you noticed for the first time how tired he seemed.  He’d been out all day - and if the blood on his shirt was any indicator it hadn’t been easy.

“Namjoon.”  He answered hoarsely, “He barely comes out on missions with us anymore.  Barely wants to be around any of us…” 

You felt a stab of guilt.

Since the night you’d been kidnapped almost four months ago, Kim Namjoon had turned into a shell of his former self.  You knew you couldn’t have done anything - you were just as much a victim of Sana’s brutality as he was - but you still felt awful.

“What happened?”

“We tried to help him… Lord knows we’re all emotionally constipated.  But Jimin thought it might be nice to take him out for lunch.  So we did.  And then…” Jungkook shook his head, “Namjoon cut himself with his steak knife.  He hasn’t gotten used to his prosthetics yet.” 

“The blood?” He clicked his tongue, “He was sitting beside me.”

You instantly felt terrible.  You moved to wrap your arms around your husband, pulling him down for a fierce kiss.

“I’m sorry baby,” You whispered against his mouth, “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head and frowned, “No stop - don’t.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I can’t take you out for anniversary meals like normal couples.  I’m sorry I come home with blood on my shirt -” 

“It’s okay Jungkookie.”  You pressed a hand to his cheek and he smiled softly at the nickname he’d begrudgingly accepted, “I know who you are - I know the world we live in.  I accept it.  I accept you.  Is it annoying? Of course.  But I won’t give up on us.  Ever.”

He leaned into your touch and kissed your palm, “I love you baby.”

“Me too.”

“Next time though, text me alright?” You pulled a face, “I wouldn’t have bothered getting dressed up.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I will Angel.”

He spent the rest of the evening showing you just how sorry he was, and how much he absolutely adored you.

Needless to say, it wasn’t the worst way to spend an anniversary.

//

“I have something to tell you.”  Nayeon had shown up not five minutes ago, with a promise that you had to sit down and listen to her.

You’d obliged of course - she was your best friend after all.

But her confession had knocked the air out of you.

“I’m getting married.”

She was grinning from ear to ear.  You almost dropped the cup of tea you were drinking.

“What?”

“I’m getting married.”  She didn’t seem upset, “That’s why I came round.”

“To who?”

Her smile widened, “Song Mino.”

“Oh!” You mirrored her expression, “Song Mino.  He’s… Nice.”

“And hot.”  

Your face flushed and you nudged Nayeon playfully, “Stop it.”

“I’m happy.”  She told you honestly, “I might not know him very well but he seems like a decent guy.  And like I said… Hot.” You laughed this time at your friend’s unabashed appreciation of her husband-to-be and clicked your tongue, “Well if you’re happy sweetie, then so am I.”

“My dad told me last night.  Mino’s father approves - so does Taehyung….”  Her eyes flitted to yours guiltily and immediately you realised what this was.

A setup.

“You want me to tell Jungkook.”

Her lips stretched into a thin line.  She grimaced.

“Yes.” 

“Why can’t you tell him?”

She frowned deeply, “Because Jungkook’s hated Song Mino ever since they were kids and he stole Jungkook’s first girlfriend.”

“Your brother is not that petty.”

“Yes he is.”  She raised a brow and scoffed, “Don’t tell me you don’t know that about him.”

You bit back a laugh at the thought of Jungkook holding a grudge for as long as he apparently had with Mino.  Then you frowned.  Tonight was meant to be a different kind of surprise for your husband.

“I also had some big news for Jungkook tonight.  I was going to wait to tell you but since you’re already here….”

For a brief moment Nayeon seemed confused by what you’d said before her eyes widened and she shot out of her seat.  She moved towards you like you were a glass of water and she hadn’t drunk in a week.

“Oh my god.  Oh my god.”  She pulled you in for a hug, “You’re pregnant aren’t you?  Oh my God! How far along?”

You laughed at your friend, “I only found out this morning.  We’ve been trying for a couple of months… But I’ve only missed one period.” 

Nayeon’s eyes were sparkling with tears and you were sure your own weren’t too far off, “Oh my god!  Don’t worry about telling him about the wedding.  I’ll do that sweetie.  You just worry about telling my brother he’s going to be a dad!” 

A loud thud caught both your attention and you turned sharply to find the brother in question - your husband - staring at you both in shock.

“Wait… What?”

Jungkook’s eyes flitted between yours and his sister’s.  He blinked slowly, as if slotting everything into place.

Nayeon pulled away from you quickly and shot you an apologetic look.

“Surprise?”  She said to her brother with a weak smile before grabbing her things and making a nervous beeline for the exit. 

Nayeon mouthed “I’m sorry” to you as she disappeared and you had to stop yourself from laughing at the entire situation.  Of course it would all happen like this.

“Was she… Was that…”

You stood quickly and moved towards your husband, cupping his face in your hands softly.  Your eyes roved his his features carefully, looking for any sign of apprehension.  But all you saw was surprise… And joy.

“I’m going to be a dad?” He whispered, eyes wide, “For real?”

“For real.”  You smiled up at him and pressed a kiss to his lips, “You’re going to be the best dad.”

He broke out into a wide grin and bundled you up in a hug, raining  his own kisses down across your face.

“Oh my god Angel.  We’re going to be parents.  Oh my God!” 

You giggled at his reaction and squealed when he lifted you off your feet.

“Pregnant wife.”  You warned him, and he put you down quickly, patting your head and shoulders to check for signs of injury.

“Oh my god.  Pregnant wife,” His smile was dazzling, “I love you so much Angel.”

“I love you too Jungkookie.”

You had spent so long running from your feelings for Jungkook.  And he’d done the same.

Thank God you finally decided to stop and rest.

Things would never be perfect - but you were happy.  And so was he. 

And that was all that really mattered to you.

//

[lululawrence]

Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

[yoondles]

Grow As We Go - M.YG

CEO! Min Yoongi x CEO! Reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: Marrying your ex isn’t really something you want to do.

Themes: Heavy angst, fluff if you squint for 2 seconds, smut, it ends happily.

Word count: 10k, Unedited

Inspo: Trivia: Seesaw by MYG & Grow As We Go by Ben Platt

Warnings: Yoongi calls you a whore, Yoongi’s pp is huge, reader is a virgin, talks about their toxic relationship, biting/nipping, breast play, light humiliation, fingering, oral (f receiving), squirting, creampie, unprotected seggs, mature language and that’s about it 😐.

A/N: lastly, I haven’t gotten the chance to proofread this and I’m sorry for any mistakes. This is my first fic so feel free to share your thoughts, thank youuu! 😭

You knew you were screwed. The way he held placed his hands inside his pocket, the heavy footsteps that would leave an impression to the carpeted floor of the airport, and the way his eyebrows arched. You were really fucking screwed.

It was the same posture he held one year ago, a few months prior to the separation that lead to the awkwardness that blossomed amidst your honeymoon days. It was eerie silence. You saw the way his veins would pop the moment he saw you as if he was clenching his jaw hard, trying to prevent himself from doing anything he regretted. You refused to make an eye contact with him.

The crowd was going wild, five months after your announced marriage, this was your first public appearance together, as a couple known by the entire nation. The fact that he was Min Yoongi didn’t help either, in fact, more people got interested in your relationship because it was about Min Yoongi.

He was one of the seven bachelors, the current head of BigHit Inc., a large conglomerate. He’s an adopted son of the late Mr. Bang, all of which grew to become individual talents, either blessed in terms of dancing, singing, poetry, even rapping. “Where the fuck have you been?” Cocking one of his brows up as he scrutinised you, looking at your small figure with an imposing look, something that would’ve threatened any normal citizen.

But not you. You knew Yoongi like the back of your hand. Having spent about 5 years of your life in an attempt to make the best out of your arranged marriage with him really helped out. Except for the fact that the two of you haven’t spoken for about one year prior to the wedding itself, and the fact that you were former lovers who decided it wouldn’t work out.

“Japan,” you shrugged him off, dismissing your assistant by giving him your luggage as you tried your best to hide your face from the agonising cameras that the paparazzi held against your face. Thankfully, they were kind enough to make way for the two of you, parting as the newly wedded pair made their way towards the vehicle.

He scoffed at your answer, baffled. He pushed his hair back in annoyance, “why didn’t you tell me anything about this?” You ignored him. Noticing the whispers and glances the people exchanged with one another. You were drifting away, pulled back to reality with the harsh grab you felt in your shoulder, stopping you from moving further. “About what?” You shook his hand off as you attempted to push through. The vehicle seemed to be moving further away from the two of you as tension was quick to rise.

“You, Japan?” You shook your head, walking a tad bit faster this time around. “Hello?” He spoke a bit louder this time, the large empty area made sure that everyone heard him. It was the echoes that reached you. “Just, let me get inside the car,” your voice was getting louder by the second, as the media started cluttering around the two of you, trying to get into the details of what seemed to be an argument between two of the richest heirs in South Korea.

“Can you let me talk to my fucking wife?” His voice was a tad bit louder than earlier, it was nothing that surprised you. He seemed to be fond with wanting himself heard, what shocked you though was the harsh grip that left you wincing as he pulled you inside the car. It was only when you were in front of the door that you managed to shake him off, opening the door yourself as you slumped against the leather seat.

Quickly, you turned away from him, closing your eyes as you forced yourself to shut him out. Pretending that Min Yoongi was a fragment of your imagination and he was no way real, that this was some made up bullshit you fantasised about at 3 AM. “Y/N!” He yelled out your name, anger evident in his voice, as the metal on his seatbelt crashed repeatedly against the plastic, cursing loudly as the driver began to move.

“You couldn’t have fucking waited, could you?!” The loud empty halls in your makeshift home was amplifying your voice. The loud banging of the door was your signal to continue your short rant regarding his unprofessional work, in front of the news outlets that would milk every second that passed in front of them.

“To hell with that, why didn’t you fucking tell me you were going to Japan?” You mocked his tone with a very small voice, removing your heels as you paraded the long hallway, rolling your eyes in the process. Coming to a halt the moment he pulled you back to him with a harsh tug on your wrist. You were quick to react, his face contorting as if confused as to whether he should apologise or continue his facade. “Why should I?” It was a push and pull type of relationship, undoing your dress in front of him was a huge part of the show.

The garment was quick to pool around your feet, swaying your hips gently as you flaunted your white pair of underwear. Moving towards the closet, eyes meeting his through the large mirror. For a moment he paused, taking a few seconds to glance at your body. Taking every curve, every mole, everything he could with such a short amount of time.

“Well, let me see. I’m your husband!”

“Legally, wouldn’t say I voluntarily married you.” You shrugged, grabbing the closest pair of pyjama you found. “Real mature, y/n. It would’ve been nice if I’d gotten a memo, you know?”

“It’s not like you would’ve cared.” You did your best in everything, and right now, pissing him off was on the top of your priorities. Casually grabbing the discarded garment as you walked outside your bedroom, dumping everything in the nearby laundry room, he continued to follow you around like a shadow.

You knew he was pissed. His breathing was a lot harsher, unlike earlier when he was wearing a mask, right now you could see he entirety of his face as he bit his lip in annoyance. “We’re going there, aren’t we?” You nodded, feeling a lot more giddy knowing you did your best to rile him up. Jumping your way towards the kitchen, greeting the maids as you walked over the counter, grabbing a yellow banana.

“Do you seriously think I have no right to know where you are? Is that another privilege I’m not entitled too, hm?”

“Yes, actually. I don’t want you meddling with my business, I want you as far away as possible.” He pursed his lips, placing his hands against his hips as he looked at you dumbfounded. “Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t care about your stupid company. I just want to know if my wife’s safe or if she’s dead.”

“Don’t use the wife card on me, Min Yoongi. Stop acting like you gave a damn about my well-being two weeks ago.” The air conditioning seemed to be working extra harder as the air surrounding the two of you seemed to be a lot more thicker and colder now. His eyebrow slowly arched upwards as he gazed at you, carefully shooting the banana peel inside the automated trash can.

Walking your way towards the fridge to grab a cold glass of water, as he intently gazed at you. “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, offering him a glass of water before placing it back inside the fridge as you washed it yourself. “I’m just returning the favour, it’s not like I knew where you’ve been the past two months.”

Yoongi was confused, it was amusing to look at him, acting innocently after the crimes he’s committed just three months into the relationship that sealed the two of you towards a muddy path to eternity. “Two months? What?”

“Yes, I don’t fucking know where you’ve been, how you’ve managed to slither past my hands, and how you fucking act like you don’t have a wife at home.” That shut him up. It was silence that followed the short confession you managed to squeeze out after days if trying to keep everything together.

“So to hell with Japan, to hell with you trying to know where I’ve been. Because I’ve been clueless for the past two months, not once did you tell me you were off somewhere.”

It was oddly, fulfilling. To be able to give your pent up emotions some freedom after a few days of relaxation. It was a different kind of satisfaction when you saw the way his face moved, the way his facial features would move with every word that left your mouth. You saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, as if figuring out why everything had to happen.

It was at this moment you declared your first victory, moving past him, making sure to touch his shoulder with yours on the way out of the kitchen, locking yourself in your bedroom. Your own personal space, far away from what was intended to be your shared space. Because you and Min Yoongi both appreciated privacy far too much.

It was an immature fight, sure. But that was everything that you and Yoongi had been. Immature lovers who wanted each others’ time for each other, the only thing that you managed to do well was break up publicly and settling everything in private. That was a big enough red flag, however, there was an agreement older than the two of you. Somehow, it managed to slap you both in the back of your heads.

Your relationship with him remained platonic. As if nothing had changed between the two of you, like you were the same pair of lovers who broke up with one another one year ago. Living with him had been many things, it was very exhausting having to keep up with his lifestyle.

It was draining to the point of no return, where you’ve been pushed past all your limits and somehow he chooses to ignore everything instead of addressing it. And it had always been like that, was there not any growth? You assumed there would be some, at least a few, but you thought wrong.

You wanted everything to die out, before proceeding with your plans. The two of you had made an agreement that within the span of two years, you’d be out of the marriage. However, with his brothers growing massively successful, the press made sure to watch almost every movement Min Yoongi made. It doesn’t help that he was private, now that he had to be exposed the media tried its’ best to pry him open. So yes, it had been very exhausting. You only needed two years, and you’d be back to the same situation you had been before.

Eating dinner had been uneventful. It consisted of you looking for the perfect video to watch while sitting in the dining table, your food getting colder every minute that passed. As if you hadn’t had an argument earlier, you had no idea where Yoongi was, whether he was safe or if he was fucking another bitch in the club, hell, maybe he was with someone who could satiate his needs, be there for him, fill up whatever you space you failed to replenish.

Was it painful knowing that? Yes. You could be there for him, you wanted him to at least try and approach you as much as you tried to form a coherent bond with him. It won’t be the same as it was two years ago, but you at least wanted to have a friendship with him. You want the two of you to be able to talk to one another without yelling, cursing. You wanted something to happen, something that was better than your current situation.

Your two weeks in Japan had been the greatest time of your life since your marriage. You’d assume that working there would be no different than if you worked from home, however, there was no empty space in Japan. There was no Min Yoongi reminding you that you were married, yelling that you hated your current life situation and that you wanted to escape. It was a breath of fresh air, but it only lasted for a while, not after his secretary bombarded your secretary.

The door closed with a loud “bang!”. It was something you’ve gotten used to over the course of five months, because you know well enough that Yoongi could never close the door without trying to release his pent up anger. He looked sleek, admittedly, he looked very charming wearing his black turtleneck, and his black coat. But you knew that you needed to stay away, as he removed his shoes, you shut down the television, walking fast while chewing on a piece of kimchi. There was a pause, it was the moment you made eye contact with him.

But you ignored it, walking away with your bowl towards your room. Normally, he’d find you in your room, however, he arrived earlier than usual. Fridays would usually mean that he’d be coming home late, trying to clear up his schedule for the weekends, but he was here in all his glory. “Have you been keeping up with the news?” You were holding a chicken bone, gnawing on it as you were about to pull the door, entering your room, but you were a few seconds late. You shook your head slowly.

He took a few steps closer as he began to open his phone.

“Min Yoongi caught desperately trying to save marriage!”

That was one of the very few articles that had appeared in his phone. Alongside, “Divorce Makes Way For The Newly Wedded Min Couple!” You gave him a shrug, unsure as to what he was waiting for, what reaction he wanted upon showing you mediocre headlines. “Well, I’m glad they’ve reported reliable news.” You could practically see smoke fume out of his nostrils in annoyance. “The fuck do you want me to do? Make a call and tell them no, when we were clearly in the middle of an argument earlier?”

He gritted his teeth, his tongue poking out his cheek as he placed both one of his hands in his hips, the other reaching his forehead as if he was trying to ease a random headache he managed to acquire within the three minutes of talk time you allowed each other to have. “This is the first time they’re seeing us, I’m quite pleased with the reaction.” The sarcasm was dripping off of every word, again, you shrugged. Gently placing the bowl down as you stared at him trying to figure out what he wanted from you.

“You’re a CEO, Min Yoongi. You’re not a performer like your brothers are, this doesn’t mean shit to the millions you earn weekly. None of this matters.” You knew that the reason for this was his brothers’ fame, they were out in the spotlight while he was in the dark. This urged the media to move towards Yoongi’s direction more, as he seemed someone who was more intriguing. Someone who’s name stood out in the crowd, despite not being a public character.

“Do you not care about the reputation you have as an individual?”

“Well in the first place, none of this would have happened if you sat down in your goddamn office chair, like you’re supposed to be doing. Not waiting for me in the airport,”

“Glad you appreciate the effort though, was I supposed to not greet you? After disappearing for two fucking weeks?” He let out a laugh, huffing as he placed down his coat somewhere in the sofa. “You yelled in front of everyone, I asked you to wait, to at least let everything boil down to the moment we were inside the vehicle!” It was a matter of proving who’s fault it really was at this point, it was the same immature fight you’d always have but never seemed to resolve.

“Why do you care so much about everyone else? Why do you care about their opinion, when they barely know you.” That was your conclusion, you halted, and moved towards your room. The bowl was left halfway full in the counter, long forgotten as you’ve lost whatever was left of your will to eat the moment Yoongi presented the news articles he found to be fascinating.

In an attempt to move on from the situation, you distanced yourself from him. The already existing wall between the two of you had only grown taller. You did your best to avoid him, even going as far as checking the CCTVs from your office just to see if he was home, letting him do his nightly routine before proceeding to going home yourself. You wanted no physical interaction, in fact, even the invitation that had been sent for the two of you had been forwarded by him through email.

Even your cellphone numbers had been rendered useless, as you barely talked through messages, not once had he called.

You didn’t know how the night would pan out, you just had to get through this, wear a dress that fit the theme, and pretend that the two of you had been happily married for the past six months. Easy, you thought it’d be easy. However, the void that stood in between the two of you had been way too big to even mend. So, you sat there, tapping your fingers against the soft satin fabric of your dress. Awkwardly licking your lips as you failed to make an eye contact with the man beside you.

You clutched your tiny purse as you had been escorted out of the car by Min Yoongi himself, doing your best to try and act natural. Hooking your hand against his arm, as he cleared his throat in surprise, raising a brow towards your direction as you began to walk the red carpet. Similar to the airport scene, the media was everywhere. In addition to the crowd you’ve managed to form, a bunch of business elites were also waiting for the arrival of the lucky couple, having big names in the business field, wanting to please the two of you for possible collaborations and merges. The two of you were the star of the show.

You began critiquing the way the two of you walked, how his steps were far larger than yours and how you always fell behind. The way your arm awkwardly hung from his, how you attempted to push back stray pieces of hair with your other hand.

Parties had always been your cup of tea, you enjoyed them, you saw them as business opportunities. But for the first time in your life, you lacked the confidence to power through the event, your feet were already worn out from the heels you chose to wear, everything was not going as planned and you were terrified that it showed through. What a hypocrite you were, scolding Yoongi for caring too much despite being anxious yourself.

There was a buffet, wine, champagne, and all of Yoongi’s brothers had also been present. They greeted the two of you, which you happily returned, never missing the sly smirk they gave off especially the way Taehyung laughed at your awkward posture, pointing out that he read the previous articles that mentioned the two of you. The part you dreaded was yet to come, it was at that moment that the old Mr. and Mrs. Choi walked in front of your and began asking you questions.

“You look wonderful tonight!” Mrs. Choi gushed at the two of you, her hands clinging onto yours and Yoongi’s as she began to shake the two of them. You smiled politely, exchanging quiet glances with Yoongi, you were screwed. The old couple loved gossiping, they were familiar with all distributors and were often referred to as the “trusted affiliate” that could juice out everything out of a growing issue in South Korea.

“So do you, I really love your earrings!” You returned the excitement, pointing out wherever your eyes had landed first, so it happened to be her earrings. “Thank you! I got them from Chanel, a little outdated but they do the job.” A few awkward sentences later, they began to ask you about what they were really here for. “I’m so glad the two of you were able to attend, I’ve been anxious since the moment we read the issues, we thought you’d be separating, again.” It was the emphasis on the word again that had Yoongi clenching the glass a little harder, enough for the tips of his finger to turn white. However, his composure remained calm, you gently tapped your heel against his leather shoes.

“Arguments do happen, I’m sure you and mr. Choi have also been victims of small fights every now and then, in the end, don’t we all find ways to resolve these?” He ended by bringing the wine closer to his lips, the dark hue beginning to stain his pink plump lips. The couple laughed.

Navigating a conversation with the Choi’s had always been dangerous, at any moment either one of you could stumble upon a trip mine. On top of this, the lack of communication with Yoongi could lead to possible contradiction of your answers, you didn’t discuss anything nor did you prepare for any interviews.

Their many attempts to find new headlines had almost been unsuccessful, almost. “When are you planning to have kids?” Mr. Choi asked, drinking the sparkling drink in his hand as Mrs. Choi complimented him through her fond eyes.

“Right, it has been six months since the two of you had been married. When are we seeing little Yoongi’s, little y/n’s?” The four of us shared a hearty laugh, “well, my wife and I want more time for each other. Not to say we don’t have any plans in the future, but we don’t intend to have kids as of this moment.” It was a good enough answer, barely any information but it was enough to get a good click worthy title. “Oh, interesting. As much as we’d love to stay, we do have to meet a few more people.”

“We’d leave the two of you be, I’m certain you’d want to talk to hipper and younger guests.”

The two of you gave a polite smile, sighing loudly as they finally left your table. You downed the glass of wine faster than you had done before, the heat in your throat finally easing the tension you’d been feeling. You shared an awkward glance, lightly chuckling after deeming the interaction as somewhat successful.

“You did great,” you praised Yoongi, he started scratching the back of his head as his cheeks glowed in a pink hue, avoiding eye contact for a few seconds. “Who would’ve thought that that would work out?” Biting your lip as you shyly smile at him. It was you getting flustered all over again, similar to how your dimples would show, how you’d look at your feet in order to avoid his stares, those five beautiful years had always been dear to your heart. However, the breakup was almost inevitable.

The two of you were growing at your own pace, while you were busy preparing to be the next CEO, Yoongi had already been managing the company. Although you tried to make ends meet, it still happened. It started with small immature fights, soon it evolved to the days you would fail to meet, bigger arguments emerged, and although you tried your best to settle everything, you were not in the right state of mind. The never ending pressure that erupted from your family, the business meetings, the small problems you encountered in your day-to-day life. Everything collided.

You wanted to find comfort in Yoongi, you wanted him to be the safe space you needed whenever you wanted, but you became selfish. You would tell him everything, disregarding the fact that he too had problems, that he was also suffering considering that a job meant to be split into seven members, were all being handled by one. He tried his best, but on some days it got too much for him to handle, and one day, he finally exploded. He ended the relationship the two of you had, a five year relationship ended in the course of three months.

And now here you were, using your newfound attitude as a way to cope with the heartache that you still feel deep within your heart. Acting like a spoiled kid who was denied for the first time.

What you didn’t know was how much Yoongi had been suffering too. How much he wanted to come to you, and how much he needed to be with you. To him, the arrangement was a blessing in disguise. It felt like a huge blow in the gut when you had suggested a divorce after the noise you’ve made died down, from then he began to feel dejected. Slowly overworking himself, trying his best to distract himself from the fact that you would never be his. The distraction he made soon lead to distance, distance between the two of you.

He tried to act tough around you, spiteful even. But when he remembers how you implicitly rejected his proposal to a life with him, he’d attempt to push through. Putting on this mask as if he was tough, that he was different from the Yoongi you once knew, that he’d no longer be there for you. He halted all of his actions, actions he thought would bring the two of you together. Forming a stronger bond compared to the five years you’ve spent together.

With you acting poorly in front of him, using aggressive retaliation, and him being terrified of the rejection you unknowingly did, your relationship was in a standstill. You were two people who wanted each other, and sadly, there might be no way of knowing that you two did feel the same way.

Despite the flashing lights, the smiles you tried to offer other business associates, you still ended up back into your dark and gloomy house. It was large, had many empty walls and was barely decorated. There was no way of telling if the house was occupied or not, it was far too... professional? It had no character, no visible sign of change, it was bare.

The dark room you managed to inhabit for the past six months reminded you of how lonely you’ve been feeling, how different you were from the persona you tried to play outside of the walls. You’ve grown so accustomed to loneliness that it became such a huge part of your life, you could barely even remember how you acted before you were married to Yoongi, how carefree you were. It was pitiful how a rich, privileged woman like you was stuck inside a place you didn’t feel comfortable in.

It wasn’t the idea of being alone that made you feel lonely, it was living with someone with no physical reaction despite being entitled to at least a little bit of skin-on-skin contact, a hug would’ve been a big help. With these thoughts, you pulled your hand away from Min Yoongi’s as you began to wave the pathway towards the front door. Crossing your arms as you moved in, avoiding him as you made it as quickly as possible towards your bedroom.

Yoongi stood behind the door, for a night that had gone so well, your reaction had been far too harsh. Leaving him as soon as you had the opportunity, as if he were something so toxic to you that you couldn’t even stand being with him, alone, for at least a minute. He felt his chest swell, it wasn’t the good type of swell, it was fucking painful.

Removing his leather shoes, and walking towards the master bedroom, he asked himself what ifs, what if the two of you managed to handle everything more maturely, to the point of having a proper relationship up until now? What if the two of you had really wanted it? Would things be better?

Good grief, of course, things would have been so much better. He cursed himself silently, muttering under his breath as he took the moment to blame himself for just ending the relationship the moment he had the chance too. He didn’t even give himself enough time to process the decision he’d been making. On that same day, he was collected by Kim Namjoon, his brother, in a local bar. He was passed out, his Armani suit reeked of alcohol as he tried his best to push Namjoon away. Telling him desperately that he was fine and that he could drive himself home.

If only fate had been a little forgiving, if only. Coincidentally, on that same night, two establishments away, you’d been busy getting drunk. Two drunk adults had been found passed out, the two of them reeking of alcohol, upset about the same relationship that could’ve been something if it weren’t for their carelessness.

The bitterness of yesterday had easily died down the moment that your nostrils engaged with the familiar scent of coffee, it was an early Saturday morning. The curtains had been automatically opened using an A.I, giving you a marvellous view of the infinity pool outside your room. Stretching your limbs as you carefully stepped outside after putting on your Hello Kitty slippers, you were greeted by your husband doing what he was best at, making coffee.

The situation would’ve been more lax if the two of you were on speaking terms but, you weren’t. He offered you a fresh cup of coffee, something you were quick yo take, a soft “thank you,” escaped your lips before letting the warm liquid pass through. Whilst you stood there in your Sanrio pyjama, the other man stood fully clothed with his suit. He was all geared up for work, something you never quite understood. From what you know about him, he’d always been quite the workaholic, he didn’t have time to pause.

“I’ll be off,” he pursed his lips, forming a thin line of something that resembled a smile. You nodded as you took another sip of the warm coffee. Just like that, he left holding a tumbler with coffee, and his car keys. “Well, at least he bothered this time...” you murmured, walking towards the refrigerator to gather ingredients for your pancakes.

You were busy dancing as you flipped distorted, the television was playing, it served as your background music as you enjoyed the short freedom you had. You made another cup of coffee, bringing the mug and grabbing maple syrup from the cabinet, drizzling it on top of the semi-perfect pancakes. Comfy in your pyjamas, you sat down in the couch and began to dig into the pancakes. You were in the mood, for just basically anything. You were at peace, that was what you felt. Two seconds away from pressing the button to finally turn it off, a scene quickly caught your attention.

The man who made you coffee was the same guy in the TV, Min Yoongi was guesting with his little brother on a survival program, it was about a new girl group awaiting for their debut. Today was the day they get to decide which of the members would be debuting as an official member, as a collaboration between two of the largest entertainment companies Yoongi was called out in order to monitor the members. Hoseok had been a judge since the beginning, here he was sitting next to Yoongi as they made small talk. You paused, holding the empty plate as you grew more intrigued.

Everything was going well, up until they met face-to-face with the trainees. All of the judges reunited with one another, one particular judge, Suran had been quite affectionate with Yoongi. It started with a handshake, that was no big deal, it was a formal exchange between two important judges on the show. It was something normal, very normal.

The show escalated smoothly, rushing towards the kitchen counter as you quickly washed the plate despite the maids offering you their own hands. You jumped towards the couch, and sat down, your heart was racing from the adrenaline rush. But it was all worth it as the show continued. There was nothing that interested you, aside from Min Yoongi, so of course you paid attention to him the most. It caught you by surprise when the camera panned towards their direction, there was a soft voice as Suran held Yoongi’s hand, complimenting his bracelet, making small connections with his hands. “It’s really pretty,” Suran murmured, the host went silent upon noticing the interaction between the two of them.

Yoongi was quick to bow, thanking her as soon as possible. “Your cheeks have gotten really pink!” Hoseok exclaimed, his laughter echoing through the stage. Clapping his hands every once in a while as he continued to make fun of his older brother.

Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal to you. You weren’t exactly the jealous type. However, with the way you and Yoongi were right now, and how quick he was to react to Suran’s simple compliment, the way they exchanged smiles, how they held eye contact for even a split second. Everything was making your blood boil.

You swallowed hard, it didn’t help that throughout the rest of the show the judges and the trainees kept teasing the two of them. How much did you have to pay for in order to get the same treatment as Suran did? Why did he act that way? Most importantly, how come Yoongi never lets you see this side of him, why does he always have to be mad or annoyed whenever he talked to you? How special was Suran to him that the moment the two of them stood close to one another, they had no trouble navigating through their conversation.

Oh you definitely weren’t jealous, yes you were simply making comparisons and that was natural, right? No, you hated yourself for feeling this way. How come he acted like that around her? Why can’t he act like that around you? You were annoyed at how he moved on, how happy he was. On the other hand, here you were, watching he two of them converse, still moving on from the breakup that had happened more than a year ago. You pitied yourself, you really did. “Fucking hell,” you muttered upon noticing the pooling tears from the corners of your eyes. It was at this exact moment that someone had kneeled before you.

When had he arrived? And why were you only finding out about this. Yoongi was looking at you with a worried look in his face as you desperately tried to hide your face from him, closing your eyes as soon as possible and grabbing the neck hole of your shirt as you lifted it up to cover your eyes. He grabbed the remote control and finally shut down the TV, “shh,” he quietly engulfed you with his body, the scent of his cologne slowly emanating from him. He guided you, lifting you up and walking towards your bedroom, covering your face from the rest of the maids that began to throw looks towards your direction.

It was the humiliation that struck you the most, the fact that he caught you watching his guesting on a show, and somehow found a reason to start getting jealous and ending up in such a pitiful condition which involved crying for affection was beyond you, you didn’t know what had happened. Why did you let yourself do this? You silently cursed yourself. “Baby, what happened?” He had a way with his words, somehow he managed to blend in a nickname, somehow that was enough to remind you what you had lost.

You shook your head repeatedly, trying your best to deny any feelings you showed. Pulling your shirt down, you were forced to meet his eyes, his thumbs found your tear stained cheeks, wiping them off gently as he locked eyes with you. “Why, what’s wrong?” He asked you again, you built up the courage, it was either now or never. “I don’t like seeing you with Suran, no, I don’t like seeing you acting like that around anyone else.” Your hiccups got in the way, but you managed to tell him exactly what you had wanted.

“Y/n...” he paused for a moment.

“How come you act like that around them, while you treat me like this? Why do they get better treatment? I’m your wife Yoongi, how come I get the leftovers while they get full course meals?” You heard how ridiculous you sounded, cringing at your choice of words and the way they flowed out of your lips. But you were humiliated enough, if it were a different situation then maybe you’d be laughing at yourself. “I want you all to me, Yoongi. And I know that it’s not possible, but I want us. I want what we both lost,” his fingers carded through your hair, the other massaged your back in a soothing manner, there was dead silence for a moment.

You knew you lost him.

His arms snaked around you, pulling you in closer to him as he gently placed a kiss on your forehead. He lifted your face up using his thumb, finally he kissed you on your lips. “But you already have me, y/n.” You knew it wasn’t real, there was no way this was happening right now. “You have me,” he muttered against your ear before gently sealing the space left in between your lips.

The tears you poured were all worth it, you knew from that point on that the relationship you once broke had been finally mended. You felt weight being lifted away from your chest.

You were sighing against his lips, fixing your posture as you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands slowly moving south. Grasping your arse as you shifted your position, sitting on top of his legs. You didn’t know what had taken over you at that point. You were desperate for more. The whine that left your lips wasn’t something you had voluntarily done, the moment he pulled away from you, his lips were a lot more plump. His chest was heaving, he threaded his palms in his hair as he eyed you. The two of you did your best to catch your breath.

It wasn’t the first time you stopped in the middle of doing something so sensual, you’ve always wanted your first with someone who you were willing to fully commit to.

Within the five years that you’ve spent together, Yoongi had always respected your boundaries. He stopped the moment you told him. He was a man of self control, but you knew that at some point he’d eventually reach his peak. Right now, there was nothing else you’d wish for aside from this finally happening. “Do I have you?” His forehead touched yours, his warm breath fanned over your saturated lips, closing your eyes you once again touched his lips.

He groaned against your lips.

Something unusual erupted from inside you, it was something you’ve felt before. Only now, you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Your lips parted, neck bending sideways as your breathing stuttered. His lips began working wonders, never leaving a spot on your neck untouched.

The flame that erupted from inside you began to engulf you, the moment you felt his lips against the side of your jaw, you knew you were done for. You began to slowly move your hips, moaning as you felt him nip slowly against your skin. His hands wandered through every crevice, eventually finding untouched area just below your cute little top.

You moved faster, trying to chase something you weren’t quite sure for, but for a moment you thanked the heavens above for Yoongi’s rough pants. You were a stuttering mess, grinding harder, pushing yourself even deeper against his thighs as you tried to reach something, just anything. You knew you were close, so close.

His hands worked wonders under your shirt, already unclasping your garment. Yoongi gave you all of his attention, which is why your heavy breathing didn’t go unnoticed. You were inches away from reaching that something, however, he pulled you away from your rhythm with one quick nip against your jaw, his hands clasping against the flesh of your arse, coming to a disagreement as he pulled onto them, giving you a quick slap.

“Yoongi,” you didn’t know if you were pleading him, maybe it came to you out of instinct, annoyance, you weren’t sure. But you were in too deep, you could honestly cry if he didn’t give you what you needed at that moment.

A low chuckle erupted from him, his chest moving against yours, reminding you of how close the two of you were. “Patience baby, this is your first time...” he gave you a quick peck. Holding the hem of your shirt as he gently lifted it off of you, catching his breath at the sight of your bare breasts. Hands finding their natural position as he flipped the two of you, you head cushioned against the pillows as you stared at his eyes, completely captivated by how desperate he looked, how desperate he wanted to lay his hands against your perky buds.

Starting from your lips, he made his way slowly downwards, making sure to nip the exact spot he knew to be sensitive, at this moment you hadn’t bothered to check if he was leaving marks, but with the time he took to make his way where you had wanted him, you would honestly be pissed off if you didn’t have any. He suckled on one of your breasts, making you arch your back off of the soft mattress. Gasping loudly at the newfound sensation, a drug you were exposed too for the first time, you felt his smirk. Long slender fingers began to touch the other, only adding more to the pleasure, making sure that neither of your mounds felt left out.

He pulled out of the other with a pop, mouth lingering downwards, kissing around your belly button before making its’ way towards the other one. The light illuminated the signs he left on your other boob, out of curiosity you touched your gleaming bud while he put all of his attention on the other. It was far more sensitive, your breathing had turned harsh, your throat felt constricted as you failed to let out moans, Yoongi’s ears were filled with nothing but short gasps. Your hips used your legs as support trying to get any form of contact, however, Yoongi’s legs never faltered. You only grew more desperate with every minute his lips dwelled on your breast.

Your underwear would surely be clinging onto your lips by now, you were irritated by the fabric, you wanted more, you needed it off of you.

“Yoon, please,” tears were pooling by the corner of your eyes, despite begging Yoongi whilst grinding your hips against his body, your hands grounded him against your breast. You were dazed, as if you were drowning and yet you didn’t want to be pulled out of the water, it was painful, and yet you indulged in it. It was a newfound addiction you knew you didn’t want to let go off, it was driving you crazy, towards the edge of all the boundaries you wanted to break.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your chest, you moaned loudly. You chased your breath, trying your best to calm down as he lapped your breast. You groaned even harder, protesting and demanding for something else. He grounded your hips with one of his hands, forcing you to lay still as he let go of your breast.

“God, y/n,” he left his words hanging, you lay still catching your breath as you tried to process what was happening. Sweat trickled from his neck, temporarily staining his black top. His hair was a mess, something you were responsible for, desperately clinging onto it as he showed you undiscovered territory with the small flicks of his tongue. Gently kissing your lips, you let out a sigh of relief upon feeling his calloused fingers against the material of your bottoms.

Raising your hips as you he managed to pull your underwear and your pyjamas at the same time. He pulled away from the kiss, appreciating your naked figure, his mouth was slightly open as he drunk in every detail of your body. You had nothing left to hide, lifting your chest slightly off the bed, flaunting your curves.

The moment he was able to process everything that was laid before him, he knew he was screwed. Memorising every detail, even the small mole in your thigh, everything was imprinted in his head. He knew that he’d be having a hard time from this day forward.

“A fucking goddess,” he murmured under his breath, making eye contact with you as he gently dived down, spreading your legs farther away from each other. Slowly, you revealed your entire body to him. He felt like wanton, appreciating the way your tight nether lips gently opened for him, slick evident in your thighs caused by the never ending squeeze of your legs a few minutes ago when he’d been too busy appreciating your breasts.

You looked away from him, it dawned you how exposed you had been. The way he was fully clothed, with nothing but unruly hair as evidence of the sensual act you’d been committing, you felt humiliated. Despite the fact that he was on his knees, attempting to make an eye contact right below you, you knew he was in control. He gave quick pecks just below the area you had wanted him most, “look at me,” warm air hitting your womanhood. You were innocent in this sense, everything he’d been making you feel was a first to you.

“Y/N,” he licked the inside of your thighs, and when you refused to look at him for the second time, he pulled you downwards. Like a rag doll made for him. His tongue darted straight to your clit, you’re knees felt like jelly. Closing your thighs as a response to the sudden movement, his arms we’re quick enough to wrap around your thighs, forcing them open as he let his tongue lick through the mess you’ve managed to create.

He suckled on your clit, as if licking it gently weren’t enough. Leaving open mouthed kisses, as he pushed onto the sensitive bundle of nerves using his wet appendage. You desperately hold on to the sheets, crinkling them, using your arms as support as you tried your best to hold on for your dear life. You could feel every movement he made, the way his tongue desperately tries to enter your tight hole, the way his lips would wrap around your clit, the way he would smirk after hearing you moan his name repeatedly.

“Shit, Yoongi!” You’re voice called out to him, a tad bit louder than your moans. You gasped for air, hands wrapping around his hair, legs quivering upon the new sensation that set fire to your entire body. He continued to lap your cunt, your lips growing even tighter around his tongue. The sounds he’d been able to produce was enough to drive you to the edge. Hearing how loud he was able to make your cunt sound was beyond you.

A few short breaths, the quick tug in your stomach, and the elated beating of your heart. It came crashing down on you.

You did your best, trying to close your thighs as it began to feel too much, beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you clung onto his dark hair. With one last gasp, and the closure of his lips, you came with a yell of his name. Your release was greeted by his lips, drinking you in like his favourite wine, overwhelmed by the stimulation you felt you begged him to stop. You rode your high against his muscle, finally, he pulled away.

His chin was gleaming, signs of your release scattered around his lips. Using his thumb, he picked it up. “Open,” he raised one of his brows towards your direction, you looked at him in confusion only to follow his orders. You were greeted by his thumb, you sucked on it, not hesitating despite tasting your own cum. He pulled it out only to replace it with his mouth, sharing the familiar taste, on a regular day it would’ve been odd, but to hell with it.

Whining against him, you tugged his sweater, demanding it be discarded somewhere in the expanse of your room. Chuckling once more he finally pulled away, with a quick flick of his wrist, he threw his top somewhere. You were greeted with a body you weren’t used too. He’s been working out, oh, he’s definitely been working out.

The way his chest moved as he heaved on top of you, the way his arms would flex and the veins that crawled from his hand to his shoulder, as if he was carved by the greatest sculptors. You swallowed harshly. God, he was fucking gorgeous.

You were brought back to reality when his finger poked your entrance, biting your lip as you watched in fascination, the way you wrapped around him, the way it quivered after its’ peace had been disrupted for the first time. Pumping his hand slowly as his eyes never left yours, watching the way your face would contort with every movement, closing your eyes as tightly as you could, soaring higher than the clouds that you had to remind yourself to breath every once in a while.

He felt you flesh, making slow movements as he tried different angles, deciding which one made you moan the loudest. Finally, he found your spot. His movements getting a lot harsher by the second, “god damn it, Yoongi.” You cursed him under your breath, gasping as he went faster and faster. “You think you can take more, baby?” his voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the way his hand moved harshly against your weeping cunt.

“More, please, more,” you chanted your mantra. Your wetness spreading to the rest of his fingers, a second one slipping into the mix. His movements were fast, but not fast enough. You tried to meet his thrusts, his eyebrow cocking upwards at the way you moved below him, observing how desperately you wanted to reach your climax for the second time tonight. “Who would’ve thought you’d be this desperate for my fingers, hm?” His voice getting lower and lower throughout the duration of the sentence.

You were in your own little bubble, his hand quickly surging forward, scissoring his fingers apart in an attempt to get you more loose, to get you to open up for him. Two fingers weren’t enough. Gasping as you felt his fingers do their best to stretch inside your needy little hole, his other hand reaching forward as he tried to distract you from the sudden movements he made inside.

Your clit was getting stimulated, while his other hand pumped even faster. You’re mind went blank, unsure as to what Min Yoongi had been saying for the past few minutes. You assumed you would reach your limit at any second, however, you felt a jolt of pain when he inserted his third finger. Cursing loudly as you held his hand, your breathing growing more shallow. He pumped his hand a little harsher, giving an emphasis to the three fingers he had inside of you.

He pulled the other away from your clit and stilled his movements, you tried to move away from his hand, doing your best to form coherent thoughts as you were torn between pushing even deeper or pulling away. You gasped for air, feeling him kiss your cheek as his deep voice murmured against your ear, “you’re going to need more than two if you want us to go all the way in, baby.”

Jesus Christ, how big was his cock?

These were your exact thoughts, “a minute, Yoongi.” You did your best to relax, forcing your hold to relax as he held his hand steady your cunt desperately in need of action. His other hand went back to massaging your clit, while the remaining began pumping in a slower manner. Despite getting used to the feeling of having three fingers inside of you, it was still too much for your tight unused cunt. However, it made you feel something, soon, the pain was ebbing away. “Faster,” you wish you hadn’t told him that, as his palm began hitting your clit in an abusive manner, driving you over the edge.

The strange feeling began to build up inside of you, his pace grew faster, faster, and faster. Before you knew it, you came undone. You pushed his fingers away, your legs shaking as you desperately closed them. Despite not having anything inside of you, the pleasure was still very evident. You opened your eyes to a wet Min Yoongi, realisation dawned you. “Fucking hell,” he smirked, shushing you gently as he pried your legs open, observing the quivering hole that once sheltered three of his fingers.

You had squirted.

It explained so much, the way the sheets were damp, the way his chest had been shining, your cheeks were flushed.

Your eyes found his bulge, restrained by his belt and the rough material of his pants. You didn’t know what had taken over you, but you wanted his cock. You wondered what else he could make you feel. “Want your cock, Yoongi, please. Need it so bad,”

“Do you think you could handle more?”

You nodded eagerly, despite the dwindling tiredness in your eyes, you knew you still wanted one thing just before you pass out. You wanted to explore how much you could take, what else you could possibly feel, you wanted everything. Desperation. You were desperate for everything that Min Yoongi could give you. “Please,” that was all it took to push Yoongi over the edge. His pants and his boxers had been discarded in a flash, you gazed at him, specifically at the massive thing between his thighs.

You gasped.

Maybe you were taking more than you could afford to take, upon seeing the worried look in your face, Yoongi was quick to comfort you. Telling you that there was no rush in taking things this far, but with a quick roll of your wet cunt against his hard cock, he ceased his words. Letting a growl erupt from his chest as he moved his cock against your pussy. “You’re a beast, y/n.” Positioning his manhood against your wet hole, slowly entering you. Just his tip felt massive enough, the tears that threatened to spill earlier, were full on leaking out of your eyes as you shut them.

Gasping loudly, making an inaudible noise as you felt his tip enter you tiny little opening. “Taking me in so well,”

“Pussy still tight after taking all three of my fingers, you’re a fucking whore.” He stilled his movements, pausing every once in a while as he was slowly hugged by your body. “Ha-ah,” you moaned as he pushed it in even further. “How are you this fucking big,” your manicured nails marred the flesh of his back, marking it with small little crescents. He ignored your remarks, instead he focused on how he’d possibly fit everything in you. You thought you’d be ripped in half when he first entered his third finger, however, at this point you were certain you’re literally split into two. His monstrous cock doing its’ best to intrude your virgin walls.

Inch after inch you felt your sanity being washed away from your body, for a split second you knew your soul lifted away. Your eyes rolling back as he continued to penetrate you with his massive manhood, tiny scars forming in his back from how hard you gripped him. His thumbs sinking on your hips in an attempt to keep you grounded as he pushed himself in. The only warning you got was a quick peck on your forehead before he pushed to the hilt. You yelled, back arching off of the comfortable mattress, your tears staining your cheeks. With the way his breathing became shaky, how his words would falter and the short pauses he took in order to process the idea of having him spear through you in its’ entirety, he was over the fucking moon.

Moving away from him in an attempt to ride him, he couldn’t help but laugh at the desperate actions you took just to get fucked. Pulling out until its’ just his tip before harshly slamming back down, knocking the air out of your lungs as you tried to form coherent sentences, before giving up halfway through and just yelling his name repeatedly. “Ruining your tight fucking cunt for everyone else,” his breathing was harsh, he came in raging inside of you. Harsh pain emerging from your pussy as you took your first and last cock, biting down on your lip as you tried to calm yourself down.

Pulling your perked up nipples before releasing them with a pop, adding more pleasure to the large intrusion in your walls. You couldn’t hear anything, the only thing you could process was the filthy sound your cunt made against his balls. The discernible wet noises, the way the bed creaked against the wall, the way he heaved on top of you, for a split second the two of you owned the world. His lips met yours, his gentle kiss was far different from his rigorous thrusts.

Just when you thought he couldn’t go any faster, he’d prove you wrong with the next. Marking your neck with more purple hues, making you completely his, giving an emphasis on every suck with a harsh thrust, ending it with a gentle kiss on your exposed flesh. You knew you were going to be sore the next day.

Assisting your legs, wrapping them around his waist, he felt your cunt clench around him. “You’re close aren’t you, your cunt clenching around me, refusing to let go of my cock.”

“You’re mine, y/n. No one can ever fuck you the same way as I do,” he growled against your ear as his pace started getting harsher. You couldn’t keep up with him, the next thing you knew you were a shaking mess before him. Coming undone and clenching him, making your pussy a lot more tighter. You tried to push him away, you had already come undone three times in one night, you didn’t know if you had the capacity to cum once more.

However, all you got out of him was an apology, pounding even harder with the added pressure of his thumb circling around your clit repeatedly. “Carving my dick inside of you, because you’re all mine,” You whined in protest, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried to keep your composure. The pain of overstimulation taking over your entire body, you were all worn out.

Despite all the earlier attempts to push him off, at this point you had no energy left. So you took it all, growing far more needy for another gush of liquid in your cunt, yelling out gibberish as his pace slowly began to falter. Biting your lip, closing your eyes, you felt another tug in your stomach. As if your first orgasm had never ended, you were cumming, for the last time, hopefully.

“All. Fucking. Mine.” With each word he thrusted harder, you felt warm liquid painting your walls white as you choked out a sob. Clinging onto him as he gently pulled out. Meeting your eyes and gently wiping away your tears, jokingly slapping his arm afterwards. “The audacity you have, after doing it so roughly.” His gums appeared in front of you, the same gummy smile that made your heart bloom finally appearing once again.

He kissed your forehead before tucking you in bed, the sticky feeling from the sheets only making you wince. He stretched out his back before walking towards your bathroom, soon enough you heard the shower. Despite the icky and sick feeling of the sheets, you managed to take a 30-minute nap, only to be woken up by Yoongi gently blowing on your face. “Let’s go upstairs...” he whispered softly, pulling you up, as he wrapped your robe around you.

Carrying you as if you weighed nothing, as he walked around the house with nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist. For the first time in months, you finally got to see how his bedroom looked like. You groaned in pain after he put you down against the grain of his marble counter. Grabbing a wash cloth and rubbing the damp towel all over your body, using warm water, finally cleaning up the mess he’s managed to make. Dressing you up in a pair of your own pyjamas he must’ve gotten earlier.

You clung onto him like a baby koala afterwards, forcing him to lay down with you in his bed. The scent of pine trees covered the silk sheets, accompanied by his favourite cologne from Paco Rabanne.

Just as if a year of separation hadn’t happened, you found your way clinging to his body the same way you did when the two of you had been dating. The small peck on top of your head was nothing unusual, the instinct of having his arm gently wrap around you after such a tiring day from work. Slowly, everything pieced itself. You wondered just how you lived through a year without him, how much you wished you’d spent it together.

He inhaled your scent, closing his eyes as he felt the satisfaction rushing in his veins. “I love you, y/n... so much, so, so, much.” He whispered against your ear, lips finding your temple as he gave you another kiss. Telling you how much he appreciated you, terrified that somehow the two of you would find your way back to the same place you ended up in, all alone and in desperate need of comfort from each other. Yoongi took his time to tell you all the sweet nothings he wished he told you before you separated.

By the end of the day, the two of you were just thankful you’d finally found your way back home.

© Yoondles 2021, All Rights Reserved

[theladyismyshepard]

37 kill for Daniela the red head, She kills one of the servents because of jealousy but the maiden is into it?? Maybe kinda nsfw

Sorry for the wait, my friend

I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Watching Me (NSFW)

TW: Violence

The sun was beating down on your back as you tended to the garden that you grew in the back courtyard. You had appealed to the Dimitrescus the benefits of planting your own vegetables and fruits and possibly the occasional pretty flower here or there. The Lady seemed uninterested in the thought altogether, making it clear that her mind was reserved for more stimulating subjects. Bela seemed halfhearted with her thoughtfulness, quickly zoning out. Cassandra had rolled her eyes and walked away after the word “garden”. Daniela was smiling though, her eyes glittery before she nodded along almost vehemently.

“I agree,” she said unabashed, ignoring her mother’s arched brow and Bela’s scoff. “Think of the ingredients we could grow ourselves instead of sending for delivery every other week.”

“Daniela, dear,” started Alcina, sighing almost exasperatedly, “Do you plan on going out and tending to this “garden”, hmm?”

You wanted to interject, it was the perfect moment to take responsibility for the care of the garden, and possibly even the grounds just to improve your worth around the castle. Yet, it required a lack in manners to interrupt a Lady when she’s speaking, and Alcina had a severe standard when it came to manners. And so you were forced to go with the smart move and bite your tongue as Daniela’s face dropped. That didn’t stop you from attempting to gain eye contact to give her a beseeching look.

“I’m sure we can find someone.” insisted Daniela, her eyes cutting to you before snapping back to her mother. “Someone very dependable,”

“I can do it,” you piped up, taking the opportunity, eyes dropping to the floor once Alcina’s gaze fell onto you.

“The question is will you,” drawled Alcina, eyes narrow as they looked you up and down. “As in, will I allow a human thing as yourself to control anything that is mine?”

You would have fell to your knees beneath the weight of the Lady’s attention had it not been for a certain redhead to stepped closer to you. You wanted to grab her hand, pull her close, wrap yourself around her for comfort, but you don’t. You never act on it, and she never dragged you to her bedroom cackling and giggling wildly as she did with other maids when she needed to get off. Though you were also the only one who didn’t emerge scarred and torn up.

“Of course, my Lady,” you conceded, bowing your head to show a sign of submission.

“Mother,” said Bela quietly, calmly interjecting, and waited until Alcina turned to address her. “I also think that a garden would be beneficial.”

Daniela had clapped happily when she realized her sister was aiding her in swaying their mother. Your eyes couldn’t settle between the three of the Dimitrescus. Alcina cocked her head to the side, adopting a fake look of thoughtfulness to cover how unimpressed she was.

“Oh, you do, darling?”

“Yes,” pressed Bela before her mother could continue on. “Imagine the access to ingredients for remedies to give the livestock. We could even grow foreign plants required for different potions!”

Fuck the fruits and vegetables, I guess.

And that was how the Lady was worn down and forced to give into her daughters desires. The garden didn’t necessarily consist of the produces that you originally planned for, but it got you out of the castle for extended points of time, and you weren’t complaining one bit. Castle Dimitrescu was a rather large estate, so there was plenty of room for the several varieties of roots, plants, and flowers that the Dimitrescus requested you take care of.

The heat of the sun had you pulling at the hem of your shirt to bring it up and wipe the sweat from your brow. The warm breeze hit you squarely on your exposed midsection, and you felt the dripping sweat drying grossly against your flesh. It felt as though eyes were upon you and when you let go of your shirt, ready to turn to check the windows of the castle, a person standing next to you nearly had you jumping out of your skin.

“Oh!” gasped the woman — a maid, “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s alright,” you assured, breathless and attempting to return your heart rate back to normal. “What’re you doing out here?”

Being outside was a luxury that none of the other maids could afford, so you were confused as to how this maid, Elle, had managed to avoid the lingering eyes that were everywhere. Her eyes averted as a slight blush came to her cheeks, and that’s when you saw the glass of water in her hand and your brain put two and two together. Oh.

“It’s hot today,” said Elle nonchalantly, even shrugging. “I figured you might need this.”

“Thank you,” you replied earnestly, grabbing the glass and taking greedy sips before you handed it back. “I appreciate it.”

“Well, I can’t have you fainting and bringing attention to yourself, now can I?” joked Elle, smiling bashfully.

You could’ve sworn that eyes were upon you, and you even went as far as to turn and check the windows, and while you thought you saw one of the curtains shifting, it also could’ve been a trick on your eyes. You furrowed your brow but turned back to Elle, who was looking at you expectantly, and for what, you weren’t sure. You smiled warmly.

“Thank you again, Elle, but I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have.” You warned, making a face to emphasize, and she nodded in disappointment but reached forward to squeeze your hand.

“Stay safe,” she said, the maids’ usual words of departure.

“Stay safe,”

Eyes were watching you, but you couldn’t see from where, and that was the most dangerous predator: the one who hides before striking, and there was one predator who always had her watchful eye on you. Daniela. You gulped at the thought of Daniela catching another maid outside just to talk to you... no one, not even you were allowed to bend any of the rules, not even once... not when you were so easily replaced. Hopefully if you just went back to attending to the garden (rather stiffly), you could pretend that nothing would be amiss when you went back inside.

***

There was tension hanging in the air, thick enough to choke, and it had your spine as straight as a rod as you trudged through the pristine castle with your overall dirtiness, your shoes abandoned at the door. It was oddly quiet, and when the maids spotted you, they turned away quick, eyes wide with fright. Every step you took towards any of them, the maids took about six or seven steps away from you. Castle Dimitrescu might’ve been weird, but that was a new one...

You gave up on making conversation and instead wandered off to find a clean uniform to change out of the more comfortable wear you wore to tend to the ingredients. There was the nagging feeling that something was off in the air... Where were the Lady’s daughters? Their signature cackles failed to echo off the walls, and it left an uneasy silence in its wake. Now that you thought about it, you weren’t running into Elle either as you wandered deeper into the castle and found the maids’ quarters.

You quickly changed and made yourself presentable for your next task, and then you were again walking through the silent halls as you made your way to the kitchen. There was no real warmth to the kitchen, not when the stove had gone untouched for as long as you had been there. It wasn’t your place to question things around there, but you couldn’t help but to ask questions when you stepped inside and there was a silver platter with the cover still hiding what was underneath. What had you puzzled was the note that simply read your name propped right up against the cover.

You craned your neck when you felt eyes upon you yet again, but nobody was there... you knew better though and that’s what had needles prickling your skin and a cold sweat to break out. All that was missing was the giggling, but this really seemed like one of Daniela’s games she enjoyed playing. You turned back to the platter, and reached for the handle of the lid. After a shaky moment of building yourself up, you ripped the cover off like a bandaid, and froze, arm still raised.

Placed neatly upon the silver platter was Elle’s severed head. Her eyes were closed, and for that, you were grateful... you were too ashamed to look her in the eye seeing as this was all your fault. As your breathing hollowed out, that was when you finally heard a deep chuckle, one that had you going rigid... this wasn’t the Daniela that you had gotten used to, but it was one you were aware she could possess. Was she directing it towards you? You dropped the lid with a clatter.

“I didn’t like her very much.” said Daniela simply, and you gulped. “She liked you too much.”

You couldn’t miss the edge in her voice on the word. You finally blinked (your eyes suddenly burned) and looked away from the platter to connect eyes with the redhead. She wasn’t smiling and that was never a good sign. You forced a smile, one that you were scared was too obviously false.

“I didn’t like her either.” You choked out, fully turning your body away.

“You didn’t?” asked Daniela, her voice suddenly small and seeking reassurance, and you were struggling to keep up with her complete 180.

“Daniela...” You couldn’t say what you really wanted to... She was just bringing me water! “Why does it really matter to you so much?”

“Because you are mine!” She snapped, and you frowned.

“Doesn’t every maid here belong to you?” You countered, though you had to admit, you have more leeway than others did.

“They belong to the family, but you, you are mine, darling.” purred Daniela, stalking forward very slowly until she was before you. “No one else can even look at you the way I do.”

“But the other maids that you’ve...” You cringed, unwilling to finish, but Daniela picked up on what you were trying to say.

“I feed from them and that is all... Getting them a little scared makes the blood just a bit sweeter.” chuckled Daniela, and you frowned yet again.

“I thought you-”

“Slept with them?” Daniela drawled, now it was her turn to frown at you. “As tempting as it was, I think there’s one delicacy that I’m saving my pallet for.”

Her eyes roamed over your body with no holds barred, and you weren’t sure how you felt about the shiver that tingled down your spine. The fact that there was a severed head behind you was kinda throwing you for a loop. Daniela had her index finger and her middle finger tiptoeing up your arm until she was gingerly holding the side of your neck with obvious care. You gazed into her eyes and you were thoroughly entranced by the red headed beauty that would kill for you.

“Do you love me?” You whispered, almost afraid that what you were asking was a stupid question. Daniela’s face softened.

“I absolutely adore you, my love,” cooed Daniela, pulling you into a searing kiss that had your heart stuttering in your chest, and when the need for air had you pulling back, she already had her eyes open and watching you. “No one can take you away from me.”

Any sane person would hear the threat for what it really was, but there was nothing sane about the feelings she evoked from you just by being near you, even with Elle’s head served up right beside you. There was something about her possessiveness that could make you either feel very secured, or somewhat aroused, and you could hardly think of anything else but the fingers scratching at the hair at the base of your neck.

“I doubt anyone would be capable of taking me away from you.” You mused, and it was true. Bless the soul who tried to free you from the clutches of Daniela.

“Hm,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as her eyes cut over every inch of your face. “Perhaps I should leave my mark for all to see?”

What surprised you the most was it seemed as though she was genuinely asking you. Her hand was still scratching the back of your neck, and her free hand reached up to rub soothing circles along your jugular with the pad of her thumb. Daniela’s compulsive attitude can lead her to doing whatever the hell she wanted without fear, but here she was, asking for your permission to drink from you. This redhead never failed to be full of surprises, and you found that you kinda liked that Daniela was so crazy for you.

“I belong to you,” You said quietly, unwilling to break the atmosphere that was enveloping the two of you, and you knew you said the right thing when her eyes shone with nothing but adoration and if you looked closer, love.

Daniela continued to cup the back of your neck with one hand, and used the other to hold you carefully by your shoulder, and she gently guided you to expose your throat just a bit more before she slowly bit into your throat. You gasped at the initial sting of your flesh giving way beneath the power of her teeth, but you allowed her to continue what she needed to do and permitted the subtle pull at your bloodstream. You felt the vibration of her own moan against your skin and it had you lightheaded.

“Daniela,” you groaned, feeling her teeth still inside of your skin with every syllable, and it also felt good when the hand on your shoulder rubbed down your arm and up your back.

“Does that feel good, darling?” pressed Daniela, unlatching just long enough to pull back and bat her eyelashes at you. “Do you love this as much as I do?”

Her tongue flattened against your bite mark, cleaning you of any trickling blood before she moved to the opposite side. She placed an open mouthed kiss there before she latched on once more, prompting your whole body to flinch within her grasp, but trust Daniela to hold on tight. It felt as though there would be a couple bruises by the time the next morning rolled around, but something told you that was a good thing to have within Castle Dimitrescu. It was like your own charm to ward off the evil that could lurk around the many hidden corridors.

You felt her pushing you back up against the table, and your foot brushed against the lid, causing it to scratch against the floor with an unflattering sound. The small of your back connected with the table, leaving you no more room to go backwards. Your hands flew to the edge as you used the table as support as Daniela basically leaned her full weight into you as she fed and marked you.

Your eyes flew open when she abruptly pulled away, her chin smeared with your blood and her eyes crazed with desire, but also soft with emotion and it was directed right at you. She never broke eye contact as she slowly dropped to her knees before you, and your breathing became irregular as she reached forward to push the end of your uniform up higher and higher until you had to shiver at how exposed you felt.

“Do you love me?” asked Daniela suddenly, bringing your wandering mind to a complete halt, and you looked down into her wide, almost innocent eyes as she stared earnestly up at you. “I never heard you say it to me.”

“I love you more than life itself,” You responded and you were surprised at just how honest it felt... You could die tomorrow and you’d have felt content enough to just allow it.

Daniela’s megawatt grin was so wide that you knew there was no way of it coming off anytime soon, not with the pure happiness radiating from it, and certainly not with the way it reached itself to her eyes. She giggled madly and soon it was the only indication of her because she disappeared beneath the skirt of your uniform and you jumped at the warm tongue that was persistent in searching your body. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the table tightened and you lost yourself to the wetness of Daniela’s tongue on you, and you found that it was true...

No one could ever steal you away from the perfection that was Daniela. Not when she was the only one that could turn you on with a familiar severed head just inches away..

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 18

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 7.6k

Abu Dhabi holds a special place in Pierre's heart. The food is great, the views are spectacular, and there is always plenty to do to keep him busy. Night races are some of the more exciting races too and Pierre appreciated the variety.

Coming into the final race of the season, Pierre holds on to seventh in the championship by a few points. Perez sensed the usurper creeping up on his seat and had cranked it up to eleven. 

Exams had kept you in London for the race in Brazil, where Pierre had finished sixth and Checo DNF'd. You had managed to fly out for the weekend in Saudi Arabia, where Perez had finished fifth and closed the gap to Pierre to only four points behind. 

If Pierre didn't finish ahead of Perez this weekend, he was fucked. And he was at the distinct disadvantage of his good luck charm being absent, stuck in London finishing up your final few exams of the semester. Two weeks without seeing you coupled with barely hearing from you had worn on him. It wasn't purposeful on your part but Pierre's stress was already compressed like the suspension on his car. Stray an inch too far over the racing line, hit a curb too hard and it was liable to snap, sending bits and pieces flying.

Pierre checks his phone for the millionth time as he waits to check in to the hotel. Wednesday was late for this many crew members to be arriving. His main concern though was that you hadn't responded to the text he'd sent you upon landing.

"Look lively, will you?" Max claps Pierre on the shoulder and he slides his phone into his pocket. "It's the last race of the season. We get to go balls to the wall and leave it all out in the track. And here you are looking like a kicked puppy."

"Easy for you to say," Pierre starts, grinning at his friend. "You clinched the title weeks ago. You don't even have to race this weekend if you don't want to and you'd still win."

"Doesn't mean I won't be shooting for a podium."

Pierre rolls his eyes. "Yeah well we can't all be so lucky, can we?"

"Next year you'll be playing with the big dogs." Max hands the receptionist his ID, says a few words and turns back to Pierre. "Looking forward to having you as a teammate again. It was fun for those couple races and I'm sure you'll be a challenge now that you've found your groove."

"You're gonna jinx it if you keep talking." Pierre laughs, praying that it covers up the old wound Max's statement picked open. Pierre hated the idea of moving back to Red Bull but he didn't have much choice. He was still contracted to one of four Red Bull branded seats for next season. A promotion, at the very least, would help him showcase his talent and further cement his value. If he had to spend any longer than that with the team, ripping out his hair was a real possibility.

"Wasn't someone supposed to be with you this weekend?" Max quirks a brow. "Where is she?"

"In London." Max bringing you up doesn't help the pit forming in Pierre's stomach. Win or lose, seventh or eighth, Red Bull or Alpha Tauri, come Sunday Pierre wanted you at his side. Interview requests were bound to roll in either way and Pierre would need someone to ground him, a task much easier to accomplish if you were physically at his side.

"Too bad." Max clicks his tongue and takes his room keys from the receptionist. "It's gonna be a fun weekend."

"I don't think-"

Pierre's vision goes dark at the same time someone whispers, "Guess who?"

Pierre sucks in a breath, spins on his heel and wraps you in a hug in one smooth motion. You laugh as he lifts you off your feet and presses kisses to your cheeks. 

"What are you doing here?" He grabs both suitcases and tugs you aside. His room can wait.

"Tost asked me to come." Your grin is contagious, its twin appearing on Pierre's own cheeks. "He said that since you were flying out from Milan on your own there was an extra seat on the jet, so if I got myself to Nice I could fly out with the Red Bull boys."

"Seven hours trapped in a tin can with Max, Yuki and Checo?" Pierre rubs his chest. "I've got heartburn just thinking about that."

"It wasn't so bad," you say, finally giving him a proper kiss. "Yuki and I just played games on our phones the whole time. And I beat Max at Scrabble."

"How many Dutch words did he try to use?"

"Mmm, about half the words he tried were definitely not English."

"Yep, sounds about right." Pierre throws an arm around your shoulders and leads you back to the reception desk. He pays for an upgraded room when you aren't looking- though when you're assigned a suite there's not much higher you can go- and slips the woman behind the counter an extra bill for good measure.

"I could use a nap," you note, leaning against Pierre like you'd otherwise fall over. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Pierre checks his watch. "We've got time for a nap."

"We?" Your raised eyebrow is question enough. Pierre smiles and swipes his key card once you're in the elevator with him. He hadn't looked at the price of the room but he was positive it was more than he'd spent on a single night in his entire career, considering it occupies an entire floor of the swanky hotel.

"It's date night," Pierre says simply. Initially his plan had been to invite Charles over for a game of Fifa but the Monegasque wouldn’t fault him for cancelling at the last minute. "We're in one of the most luxurious cities in the world and I'm going to show you off every chance I get. The restaurant down stairs is to die for."

Your attempt at nodding along with what he says is thwarted by a yawn. "Sleep first, eat later." Seeing as it was impossible to deny you, Pierre simply drops a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Wait until you see our room." The way your eyes light up when he says our room makes him want to say it again and again just to see you sparkle.

"I know you upgraded it, Mr. I-think-I'm-sneaky." You uncurl yourself from against his arm when the elevator chimes. "How much did it cost?"

"A few extra pennies."

The stainless steel doors open directly into the suite. The living space is dominated by a curving crescent of full length windows overlooking the cerulean harbor and the jagged steel of the city skyline beyond. Suitcase forgotten, your jaw drags along the floor as you toe off your shoes in favor of sinking onto one of the half moon couches situated around a low coffee table.

"Did you get some sort of bonus you didn't tell me about?" Pierre sees your inner engineer cataloging the chandelier dripping crystals over the carved dining table and the pattern of the black veined marble flooring. "This cost more than a few pennies."

"I didn't really look at the price so it's possible," he admits. In the end it was worth it to see you like this, happy as a pig in mud. Pierre was in his element at the track you were in yours in beautiful buildings. For all Pierre cared you could be sharing a dingy room at a motel; it would still be five star worthy with you there. 

Every once in a while though, you deserve a bit of pampering for all you put up with. Late nights and months apart wasn’t easy on either of you, but you stuck by him. And when the day comes that Pierre retires or loses his seat, you would be the one there to comfort him. Spending frivolous amounts of money to see you smile was nothing in the grand scheme of things. 

In Pierre’s world, money is temporary, you are forever.

"Well I have half a mind to tear into you for spending so much on a room we won't spend all that much time in," you start, your star-speckled gaze landing on Pierre, "the view is too pretty to be upset about."

"Mine isn't half bad either." You laugh, tucking an errant hair behind your ear. You both know he isn’t referring to the glittering bay or the expensive furnishings.

"Up," Pierre demands softly, holding out his hand. Your hand is warm and dwarfed by his long fingers but you barely seem to notice. The heart in his chest pounds for no discernable reason as he leads you down the narrow hall past doors leading to what he can only assume are bedrooms and bathrooms, to the one at the end of the hall. Based on his mental floor plan this one has the best view, if he's guessed correctly.

Your breezy oh confirms his hunch. You stutter at the threshold, coming up short behind him to bathe in the beauty of the sea, dotted through with white sails. Sunlight twinkles off the waves and if he breathes deep enough, he can almost smell the salt.

"Come on," Pierre says with a chuckle, urging you to fall into the fluffy down of the bed with him. You follow reluctantly, too enamored by the sights to pay any real attention to how Pierre arranges your limbs to his liking, your head resting on his chest and your joined hands laying atop his stomach.

"How about that nap?" He murmurs, running the fingers of his free hand through your unbound hair. 

You sigh and snuggle in closer. It was rare that Pierre had the opportunity to steal moments like this during a race week, when he had nothing better to do than tangle himself in you.

"I'll tell you a story." 

Just as he expected, you leap at the offer. "Can you tell me the one about the time you and Charles got in trouble when you were karting?"

Normally he opts for something fictional that allows him to embellish the details to fit his narrative. Pierre loved spinning tales rife with laughter and intrigue but he also didn't mind indulging your curiosity.

"Yeah, I can tell that one. Let me set the scene. It's midnight on a Friday at a little track outside Rouen. Two gangly teenage boys, one French and one definitely, positively not French, have nothing better to do than get themselves in trouble…"

**********

Fans began whispering when Pierre set foot in the lobby. The price of stardom was high and had taken years to get used to. Some days the bombardment of people asking for photos and autographs overwhelmed him to the point he was desperate for an out. Most people respected his boundaries and when they sensed it was too much, they backed off. Other days it was simply too much and he would mumble excuses and book it out the door.

The pressure increases tenfold when he steps into the lobby with you on his arm, the pair of you dressed to the nines. He clocks a group of women- clearly tourists based on their body language- perched on a sofa the minute their low murmurs turn into excited squeals.

Pierre mentally braces for you to stiffen or stop altogether but you do neither. You carry on unaffected, either ignoring them or completely oblivious to the women who do nothing to hide their pointed stares.

"Table for two please." You smile at the restaurant host and then at Pierre. You must not have noticed the fans then. You were getting better at coping with the photos and whispers, although your smile usually became forced the longer it dragged on, the polar opposite of you currently beaming at him.

Pierre's shoulders sag a bit when you're led to a secluded table towards the rear of the dining space. Privacy wasn't a luxury he was often afforded. With his back to a wall of windows, there were fewer angles for people to approach from which was a small comfort.

Apparently you find sitting across from Pierre unacceptable because you shuffle your chair to his side of the table before plopping down in it. Pierre shoots you a questioning look but keeps his mouth shut. Inquiring after your motives didn't tend to end well for him.

Instead he leans over to kiss your cheek, relishing the blush his lips coax to the surface.

“It all sounds good,” you say, scanning the menu. “You’ve been here before, I take it?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I have. It’s all wonderful.” 

The fans from the lobby remain in the blurred fringes of his vision. Pierre does his best to focus on the waitress explaining the specials. He tunes in automatically to the fan’s heavily accented English as they argue with the host, vying for a table as close to Pierre as possible.

Their phones remain out as an annoyed waiter tries and fails to coax the gaggle of girls into ordering something. Pierre drags a hand through his hair.

Being the center of attention usually doesn't bother him. Coping with the spotlight and the scrutiny that accompanies it is second nature; if the press conferences at Spa in 2019 had taught him anything, it was the importance of a solid poker face. Fame is new to you though and interactions with polite fans make you nervous. Having your picture taken without permission and splashed on social media? Forget about it. Pierre didn't care to find out how you'd react.

"Don't be nervous." You lay a hand on Pierre's thigh. The touch is enough to temporarily pause his bouncing leg. "You're going to do amazing this weekend. All you have to do is finish in front of Checo and you're golden."

How you haven't noticed the girls giggling mere yards away is beyond him. The last thing he wants to do is ruin this perfect, beautiful moment of bliss. You look gorgeous with your painted lips and that sinful black dress that he doubts can be comfortable based on how it hugs your curves like water. To top it off, the pride in your gaze is something to behold, making it impossible to doubt himself when you so clearly and openly believe he can conquer the world.

But it's better to tell you now versus you finding out on social media later. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Oh?" You sit straighter and set the menu down. "What is it then? Because if it's Horner, I have no problem marching in there and chewing him out. Birdy will back me up."

Despite himself, Pierre can't hold back his smile. "Where did all this confidence come from, hmm?"

"I'm learning," you insist, nodding your head firmly. "I'm growing as a person and you should be proud."

"I never said I wasn't." Maybe you'd spent the last month at university interacting with racing fans on campus. Perhaps being exposed to endless questions in a setting you controlled was the key. "Did you take a course in confidence at university?"

You scrunch up your nose and laugh in the most adorable way. Pierre's heart lurches at the sight, regardless if it was him you were laughing at.

"No, but I did make a few new friends that have a habit of pestering me about you." You jab a finger in his side for good measure. "It helped, I think. I don't look for cameras as much anymore. You're my focus now, not paps that may or may not be lurking in bushes."

"I knew it." Pierre is slightly impressed that he'd hit the nail squarely on the head. "I figured there had to be someone at uni responsible for helping you out."

You shrug and purse your lips. "I guess we'll have to see how I handle this weekend. I mean, there's bound to be press trying to corner me, what with the stakes and all. But I think I can take them." You raise your fists in front of your face and Pierre has to laugh. 

“Throw a punch like that and you’ll break a finger.” He takes one of your clenched fists in his and untucks your thumb from under your fingers. “That’s how you make a proper fist. And you hit with these knuckles here- make sure you distribute the blow across all four, or you’ll be hurting.”

“Regardless,” you say, jabbing the air a few times, “The shock factor of having little old me in their face ought to be enough to earn me an advantage.”

Pierre finishes the lap to circle back to the topic at hand. "How about we test your confidence?” 

"Okay," you say, dragging out the 'a' until it hangs in the air between you like a spider's web. 

Pierre rakes a hand through his hair and nods to the girls a few tables away. "They've been taking pictures since we sat down. I'm sure they'll be all over Instagram in an hour, if they aren't already."

You steal a glance at the table in question under the guise of grabbing something from your purse. You hum, contemplating how to go about responding. Pierre is almost certain you'll ask to head back upstairs where it's just the two of you, no cameras or outside influence to ruin your night. His wallet is already out under the table, ready to leave a hefty tip for putting up with your drink-and-dash.

“We aren’t doing anything interesting,” you point out, swirling the knuckle’s worth of whiskey in your glass. “Why do they feel the need to document every passing second?”

Pierre lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just what some people do. If you’re uncomfortable we can go.”

“Who said anything about leaving?” You scoff, the corners of your lips turned up in a teasing smile. “I figure the best course of action is to give them something worth photographing.”

“What do you-”

Pierre’s yelp is decidedly unsexy when you yank him forward by his tie and attach your lips to his. Caught entirely off guard, he flounders for a moment before he catches himself and sinks into you. One hand on your cheek and the other creeping up your thigh, Pierre slides his tongue over the seam of your lips. You don't hesitate to obey the silent command.

He should be embarrassed. He should be contemplating the consequences of this kiss being splashed across tabloids the world over. He can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re the only release he needs and something as simple as a kiss sets his skin alight and causes any sane thoughts to trickle from his head.

Nothing matters. You're kissing him and your hand is a few inches below his hip on his right thigh, burning a brand that he prays leaves a puckered pink scar. Your scent and your mouth and your unmistakable hiss of pleasure saps the worry from his limbs. He's floating up off his chair, lungs filling with helium as you steal every last molecule of oxygen from the room.

Just like that, Pierre is the one that's roaring to leave for an entirely different reason.

Your hand on his jaw keeps your lips a hair's breadth apart as you whisper, "Are they staring?"

A blissed out nod is all he manages. Thoughts evade him and speaking is utterly out of the question when your lips are within striking distance. He surges forward for another kiss, heavier on teeth than on tongue. He makes sure to hold your lower lip between his teeth longer than necessary, putting on a show now that you've given him permission.

"Pierre," you murmur, using the hand splayed on his chest to push him away. The whine that escapes him is wholly unintentional. Thankfully it's low enough that only you hear, pressing a finger to your sinful lips.

"Down, boy." You extricate his hand from the dimpled flesh of your hip and place it chastely in his own lap. "We've accomplished what I wanted to."

Saying you tossing a wink over your shoulder at the intrusive fans isn't the hottest thing he's ever seen would be a lie. Pierre needed to be sure to thank Daniel's girlfriend the next time he saw her for whatever the hell she said to finally bestow you with a healthy serving of self-assurance because this new you is an entirely different entity, one Pierre intends to explore at the next opportunity.

"Problem solved." You brush your hands together and Pierre half expects to see dust clouds in the air like you'd just finished a woodshop project. 

Pierre's brain is operating on a ten second delay. So really, normal operating procedure when he was in your vicinity. "I don't think we've accomplished everything I'd like to get done."

"We have a dinner to finish first." You pick up your menu and resume browsing like you hadn't just forcibly ripped his appetite for anything other than you right out of him. "The salmon sounds good, don't you think?"

"You sound good," Pierre mumbles under his breath and picks up his own menu. God, he'd love to let his fingers drift to the apex of your thighs. You’re always cute when you squirm. It was so simple to do too, all you needed was a brush of his knuckle to your center and you'd be gasping.

"Are you ready to order?"

The soft-spoken waitress bursts Pierre's bubble. She brings fresh drinks and jots down an order of two salmon fillets and leaves with a smile. 

How Pierre has managed to make it this long without fucking you is beyond him. From the moment you surprised him in the lobby, his limbs have been thrumming with energy. And now your surprise kiss had been the pebble that preceded an avalanche of feverish longing. Those red painted lips would look better wrapped around his-

The pointed toe of your shoe digs into his calf. "Quit staring."

"Either you let me daydream or you let me take you upstairs,” Pierre quips back, licking his lips before he can catch himself.

"Can we get through one date without you mentally undressing me?"

Pierre dips his grin in a vat of lust, his words dripping with waxy promise. "No. Not when I know that as soon as we're alone, you'll let me do what I want."

"And what about what I want?" Your pouted lip does absolutely nothing but push his mind further in the gutter. 

"Your wish is my command." His hand floats under the hem of your dress to graze along your core. And there it is, that sound he would swim across oceans to hear, your chastizing gasp of surprise. 

The cross way you whisper his name is a thing of dreams. No one else's name sounded like that on your tongue, that honor is reserved solely for Pierre. The two breathless syllables are more exhilarating than standing on the top step. The rush of adrenaline that accompanies them is ten times what he is rewarded with when passing a world champion on track. He'll give it all up to hear you repeat it when you're pissed or lonely or tired- he just wants your voice echoing in his ears like a broken record.

You move his hand a safe distance down your thigh, nearly at your knee. Pierre gives your leg a sharp squeeze. "Can we please get our dinner to go?"

"Not tonight. You can wait, mon amour."

The French rolls off your tongue awkwardly but Pierre will be the last to complain. Your encyclopedic knowledge of which buttons to press when had come back to bite him in the ass.

"That's not fair." His pout is a mirror image of the one you turned on him earlier. "You can't use my own language against me."

You pat your pockets as if searching for something and shrug when you come up empty. "I don't see a rulebook anywhere."

Reminding you what happens when you tease him shoots to the top of his to do list. "I'll play if you wanna play, ma chérie. Don't bite off more than you can chew."

"I think you're forgetting who usually wins off track."

Pierre can't help it. He takes advantage of his superior reflexes and surges forward to claim another searing kiss. You did normally win and it wasn't for lack of trying on his end. No matter the tactic he employed, you generally got the better of him. Not that he minded.

"Why don't you come here?" He purposely grazes his lips to your ear as he speaks and grins when a shiver runs down your spine. 

"Because we are in public," you hiss back, though the way your head tips to the side betrays you. Pierre's nose touches the underside of your jaw and you struggle to find your breath.

"We should eat." A self satisfied smile splits his face when he notices your heaving chest and wild eyes. 

"When did our food get here?" Pierre did that. He got you so worked up that you blocked out your surroundings so thoroughly that you hadn't heard the clink of plates. Pierre wears that fact like a badge of honor.

"A minute or so ago. Remind me again who's winning?"

"We may be even," you relent, adjusting the skirt of your dress. Yeah, even isn't the word he would pick, considering how flustered you are. It's a good thing Pierre has learned to eat with one hand because he doesn't plan on moving the arm currently slung over the back of your chair anytime soon. His finger traces the letters of his name on the bare skin of your shoulder. Whether you realize what he's writing or not you lean into him as you eat, falling in closer with each lemon-scented bite.

"Excuse me?"

You don't bother to look up but Pierre does. Disappointment washes over him when he is met by one of the fans, apparently deeming now to be the appropriate time to approach him, while clearly on a date, in the middle of a meal.

"I'll be happy to take a photo once I'm done." Sometimes passive aggressiveness works best with people like this, who have no regard for personal space. "Right now I would prefer to be alone, thanks."

"Oh, right." The blonde giggles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You two make a… cute couple?" The end of her sentence turns up and your fork falls to your plate.

Pierre tucks you a little closer to his side, both possessive and reassuring. "We know."

Your discomfort is plain, the way you curl in on yourself making his heart hurt. But you surprise him by taking a deep breath and turning to the woman with a smile. 

"If you'd let us finish our meal, I would appreciate it. We can stop by on our way out and chat with you." Sylvie would be proud of that answer. Diplomatically phrased and said with a smile that negates any negative connotations.

"Of course." The blonde's smile is sickly sweet. To Pierre she adds, "Good luck on Sunday."

Pierre nods. The woman's rude behavior didn't warrant a verbal response. She mumbles a feeble goodbye before slinking back to her friends. If nothing else at least their whispers died down, put out by his behavior. 

Pierre loves his fans. Without them he wouldn't have a sport to compete in, and of course he appreciated their endless support. Stopping for photos or autographs had gotten him in trouble with Marko multiple times for being late to meetings that usually turned out to be pointless anyway. As a whole, their enthusiasm gives him an extra boost on Sundays and lifts his spirits after a bad weekend.

And then sometimes there were people like the blonde woman that had interrupted his dinner. Those people he has far less tolerance for. Basic manners were imperative to Pierre giving someone the light of day, otherwise he saw no need to waste time and energy on them.

"All good, ma chérie?" Pierre rubs your shoulder, hoping it'll stave off any anxiety.

"I'm good," you confirm with a nod of your head. "Let's finish up and go to our room."

Pierre presses a kiss to your temple and scarfs down the remainder of his meal in record time. He flags down the waitress and hands her his card, leaving a substantial tip when she returns with the check.

“Can you distract that table?” Pierre asks, aware of how unusual the request likely is. “I’d like to get out of here without making a scene.”

“Of course,” the waitress says with a warm, sincere smile. Pierre waits until she loudly announces, “Excuse me? Your card has been declined, do you have another method of payment?”

Neither of you can contain your laughter as you stumble through the lobby. In the sanctity of the elevator, Pierre wraps his arms around your middle and molds himself against you. "You look especially gorgeous tonight."

"You're not too bad yourself." One of your hands finds the nape of his neck, guiding his face to the crook of your shoulder. Pierre takes the invitation at face value and nips at the sensitive skin. Your hum goes straight to his cock, twitching against the swell of your ass.

"I win," you purr, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging. 

For once Pierre is glad to be in the world's slowest elevator. Since he's already lost, he might as well lose in style. He spins you to face the mirrored wall. And because he knows it'll make you tremble, he trails his hand lazily over your throat to grip your jaw.

A low moan leaves your parted lips. Pierre studies your reflection, from your hands gripping the railing to the skin dimpling beneath his fingers. 

"Fine, you win this time. But I think you and I both know, I'll come out ahead in the end."

**********

Waking up to soft kisses will never get old. Thirty years from now when Pierre was retired and you fell asleep each night with his arms around you, you'd still yearn for the brush of his lips to your cheeks, neck, and shoulders to rouse you from the violet shores of sleep.

"Good morning," you mumble, a sentiment which Pierre echoes with his gruff, sleep tinged voice. "Sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've ever gotten. You tired me out last night." You both grin at the reminder. Fueled by a slight tinge of jealousy after the women at the restaurant made eyes at him, you had refused to let him tumble into bed until well past midnight, when you both were well and truly exhausted. Thursday is press day, nothing strenuous that he couldn't afford to be a little sore for.

Pierre rolls to straddle your hips, lips capturing yours for a proper kiss. The taste of freshly brushed mint makes your skin tingle when he tugs your lip between his teeth.

"It's too early for that." You throw your arms around his neck and urge him to bend his elbows until he falls atop you. It takes him a moment to snuggle in, his head on your chest and his arms sliding under your middle. 

You're convinced that ten minutes in this position can cure any ailments, physical or mental. The weight of your soulmate pressing into you, forcing you to focus on breathing instead of whatever might be bothering you. It's easy to forget about the outside world when everything you require to be happy is wrapped around you like a blanket.

You stroke a hand over Pierre's hair until his breathing evens out, only rousing him when the sun peeks over the harbor. Amiable silence fills the space as hues of orange and pink paint Pierre in swaths of color. Suddenly you're seeing him for the first time, completely enamored by the angles of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his stubbled jaw. The golden hour of dawn shines on it's golden boy, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he turns towards the warmth calling him home.

"Pyry and I are going for a run soon if you'd like to come with us."

You cringe. Running used to be fun when you were in school, but seeing as you hadn't properly trained in years you doubted you could keep up with a pair of professionals. "How about you text me when you're back and I'll come to the gym with you? It looks fancy, if George's snaps are anything to go by."

Pierre trails kisses up your sternum, over your neck and only speaks once he's reached your lips. "Looking at other men, are you?"

"Shut up," you laugh, shoving him off you. "I'll have you know it was a rare shirt on picture, thank you very much. I don't need to see George shirtless ever again."

A satisfied, "Good," rumbles from Pierre's chest and he stands to stretch the lingering sleep from his limbs. Clad in nothing but a pair of white four inch inseam shorts and with his back to you, you grin as an idea forms. You scramble forward before he can process you moving and smack his ass so hard he yelps.

"Gotcha!" You devolve into a fit of giggles as he rubs the spot you hit, whining about you taking advantage of his distraction.

"You like it," you tease, and Pierre remains strictly pouty for two whole seconds before he breaks into a grin and nods. "Now put on a shirt and get downstairs before Pyry calls you and you get reamed for being late again."

Pierre leans down for one last kiss before rushing off to the lobby. Waking up before the sun leaves you plenty of time to laze about if you choose to. Kicking your butt into gear seems like the better option so you drag yourself out of the relative warmth of the sheets and shuffle to the kitchen in search of coffee. 

Apparently the suite came fully stocked with a handful of different freshly ground blends, and much to your delight you recognize one of your favorites. You scroll through the room service menu on your phone while it brews. Without a doubt Pyry would rope you in to whatever workout he had planned for Pierre, albeit giving you a watered down version of what he gave the driver. Regardless, it would still be grueling and you needed to fuel up.

A hearty breakfast of fresh fruit and cinnamon sugar oatmeal shows up at your door ten minutes later. You're just finishing up when Pierre's snapchat comes through and you nearly choke.

Come on down baby

The sweaty, shirtless selfie that accompanies the caption is wholly unnecessary. Pierre's stupid tongue sticks out and the fingers of one hand are tangled in his hair. The muscle of his bicep is perfectly flexed, an obvious but appreciated attempt to rile you up. You shamelessly screenshot the photo before it disappears to save it for later.

You change into a simple set of leggings and a loose t-shirt and head to the elevator, curating your music queue on the way down.

The outdoor gym overlooks a pool of the same crystalline blue as the sea not far beyond. A few Alpha Tauri and Red Bull team members you recognize occupy a handful of machines. You wave at the ones you recognize, including Alana- she was a sight for sore eyes. You make a mental note to catch up with her at some point today, as you're sure to cross paths again.

Pyry spots you before Pierre does and waves you over. "Start stretching," the fin orders, "I'm glad you dressed for the occasion this time."

"I've learned my lesson." You plop down next to Pierre and lean into a stretch to stage whisper, "He drives you this hard?"

"Get used to it." Pierre shoots you a grin that sets you on fire. He's got a shirt on now, which means he only took it off earlier to send you that snap. Tease.

Any other time you'd chide him for his behavior but this weekend you let it slide. Tension has been brewing since the moment you spotted him across the lobby; simple things tip you off to the stress winding up in him. If flirting could offer him a small amount of release, then so be it, even if it was torturous for you to see him like this and be unable to do anything about it.

"If you two can't get through this without making heart eyes at each other I'll separate you," Pyry warns, pushing at your shoulders and helping you stretch a few more inches. You hide your wince and laugh, leaning into the slight burn.

"Sorry coach," Pierre chimes in, "I'll keep my hands to myself, don't worry." He accepts Pyry's hand to be pulled to his feet. Bouncing on his toes he throws a few punches at the air and catches your gaze over his trainer's shoulder.

"Definitely not you I'm worried about."

As Pyry says it, you blow Pierre a kiss. You quickly tuck your hands behind your back when Pyry's head whips around. Your cheshire grin gets you off the hook and Pyry just points to the stationary bike in silent command. At least he was going easy on you.

Headphones pumping a Pierre curated playlist, you lose track of time as you cycle mile after mile. Pierre sparring on the fringes of your vision helps distract you from burning muscles. Sweat soaks his black tee and is absorbed by the waistband of his oddly patterned orange and white shorts. No matter how incessantly you tease him for his fashion choices, he never fails to amaze you for how well he pulls it all off.

Lost in the music and the incredible view, it takes you a moment to realize Pierre's lips aren't just moving silently. You yank out an ear bud and blubber, "What did you say?"

Pierre's breathless laugh is accompanied by a shake of his head. He half curls in on himself, hands on his hips and mouth agape as he tries to catch his breath. The image stirs memories of the last night, when he was panting just like that but with nothing obscuring you from drinking in his godlike muscled body.

"I said," Pierre starts, walking over to kiss your cheek, "I need a shower before press. I'm going upstairs. You can stay here and Pyry can take you through some more-"

"No thanks!" Pyry shrugs off your immediate refusal. Training top tier athletes and training you sat at polar opposite ends of the spectrum and often times the Fin pushed you farther than you thought capable. You'd like to be able to function tomorrow, thank you very much.

The elevator ride to the suite is filled with salted kisses and wet touches. A breadcrumb trail of clothing leads from the stainless steel doors to the glass encased shower. There's not enough time to worship Pierre like you'd wanted to but he sighs when you run a soapy cloth over his body. Your lips follow the suds, leaving light kisses to the tender muscles. By the time you pour shampoo in your palm and lightly scratch at his scalp to work it into a lather, he's practically purring.

Media appearances are a necessary part of being a driver. Pierre usually handled them well enough on his own and occasionally with Sylvie's help when she could be bothered to get off her phone for a few minutes, but having you with him is different. You pride yourself on reading him well enough to know exactly what he needs. Some days, when the press isn't a pack of rabid animals, he returns to his driver's room and needs nothing more than a quick kiss to have him righted. On days when the pack of piranhas descend to feast on the bones of a bad session or the whispering of drama, a delicate touch is required.

If your suspicion proves right, today would be the latter. Being ahead of the frenzy might take the edge off when Pierre got in the thick of it.

When the tap cuts off, you step out and wrap Pierre in a fluffy towel. His smile communicates how grateful he is- and that he knows what you're doing.

You hand him a stack of Alpha Tauri branded clothes and sit on the foot of the bed. "Do you want me to come to the paddock with you?"

Pierre pauses with his shirt half on. "If you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind." You pluck a few of his rings from the nightstand and hold out your hand. "You have to complete the look."

"What would I do without you," he murmurs, slipping one on his pinky and one on the thumb of his opposite hand.

"Probably be ridiculed for your lack of fashion sense."

**********

As a driver's girlfriend, you had come to grips with being relegated to a background role when it came to team events. You have to ask Sylvie to repeat herself twice before her words sink in.

"Come with me to the media pen," the woman grits out. Apparently Tost intended to have some fun torturing the woman before he fired her at the end of the season. Hopefully whoever Pierre got stuck with next was a bit more personable than Sylvie.

"Pierre told me to wait here," you say, gesturing to the garage buzzing around you. You were a rock and the mechanics were the stream, parting around you without a care in the world. You were barely a blip on their radar, everyone too honed in on their tasks to pay you any mind.

"And now I'm telling you to come with me. The other wives and girlfriends are in attendance and it'll look odd if you're not there too." Clearly, Sylvie didn't like the idea. And any idea that pissed Sylvie off sounded like a good one.

"I know the way," you say and breeze past her. Your feet follow the familiar path to the cluster of reporters crowded around metal gates, keeping the drivers in like caged animals. It was fitting, considering how often people referred to the sport as a traveling circus.

Pierre is already knee deep in an interview with one of the more popular journalists in the bunch, Will Buxton. Careful to stay out of the lens, you lean against the guardrail to listen in. So far it seems to be going well, Pierre's laugh brings a smile to your face.

"So, Pierre." Will shifts on his feet, pausing to create a sense of drama. "Your seat for next year. We know you'll be in Alpha Tauri or at Red Bull. Only a few points separate you from being demoted right back to eighth in the championship, which would officially relegate you to keep your seat at Alpha for the upcoming season. Are you worried about a mechanical problem or an accident stripping you of your chance to prove yourself and leaving you stuck where you are?"

Your stomach sinks. Buxton knew how to phrase a question, you had to give him that. Each word had been carefully chosen to elicit an emotional response from Pierre. You hate seeing him backed into a corner, forced to answer the same questions again and again, helpless to prevent it.

"Well first of all I'd like to stay that I'm not stuck at Alpha." Pierre shifts his weight and you exhale. Buxton's poisoned dart had missed its mark.

"Given a few years of development I know we could have a really competitive car. But it's more so that I'm ready to move up, fight with the leaders now instead of waiting. I'm in my prime and I don't want to let that pass me by.

"So no, I'm not worried about things that are out of my control. My team has given me an amazing car this year and I'm not concerned about mechanical problems. Things out of my control aren't worth my energy. There's nothing I can do about it so I don't even give it thought. I'll focus on my driving and pushing my limit- if an accident happens, I'm just a passenger."

"Well said." Buxton nods and turns away, effectively dismissing Pierre. As soon as he's out of the camera's view he's reaching for you and you meet him halfway. Sylvie trails after you as Pierre leads you through to the Alpha garage.

"Five minutes until your briefing," Alana says the second you enter. "And hey girl. Don't think I've forgotten about that sweater I loaned you. I still want it back!"

Your friend doesn't leave any room for rebuttal before heading for the conference room, presumably to set up whatever presentation she had created. Sylvie had disappeared too, leaving you as the only one for Pierre to focus on.

"You think I can do it?" He asks quietly, playing with your interlaced fingers.

"I don't think." You tilt his chin up so he's looking at you. "I know. And I'll be right here when you cross that line on Sunday and bring home points. You've got this, baby. Don't doubt yourself now."

"Pierre!"

Your grip on his chin prevents him from following the voice, not that he would if he could. You shoot him a raucous grin, "Red Bull colors would look pretty good on me, huh?"

Pierre's smile is brighter than all the stars in the sky. "Anything with my name on it will do.”

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz @xeniarocks @teenwaywardasgardian @saintandrea-droidsmuggler​

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

[mrskurono]

Schweiden Sex Education || Wakatoshi Ushijima x Fem!Reader

Tag(s): oral, semi public, slight age gap, talk of taking virginity, dirty talk

Character(s): Wakatoshi Ushijima (hq), with mentions of other Schweiden members  

Word Count: 4k

a/n: I intend to make this a mini series so here’s to keeping one thirsty brain cell (:

part (2) (3)

The Schweiden team had always felt like a home to you. Really it was your home. And had been for the past six, almost seven, years now. The only ones who held supremacy over you were Nicollas and Fukuro. And that was a tenuous supremacy when you argued you did more work than they did to help manage the team. Mostly the veteran men didn’t argue with you.

And surprisingly neither did the newbies as they came in one by one. Each year adding another body to your roster and another mouth to listen to. Quickly though the Schweiden players always seemed to get the hint who was the mother hen of the eagle roost. Even the obstinate youngsters the team got within the last few years realized that. 

Korai perhaps your hardest to twin. Like a true middle child. He raised hell when he could but learned fast you had no time for games. The other two though? The one to come after him was sullen but determined. You honestly appreciated the break Tobio gave you in comparison to Korai. But the older of the three newest recruits? He left you stumped.

Wakatoshi Ushijima. Or as Tobio and Korai repeatedly said, Ushiwaka. Came first. He was quiet and good at what he does. An obvious pick for the team. Like all your players you wanted to cultivate a good relationship with him. If your boys were happy then they played happy.

But unlike Toshiro who you could call if he was gonna have a bad day by the way he left his equipment in the Schweiden’s gym instead of the lockers. Or Fukuro who almost never had a bad day if there was a pack of spearmint gum set on the bench right inside the men’s locker room. Your newest eaglet was something of a mystery.

The first season you had him under your care was ruthless. He wouldn’t speak but maybe two words to you. And that was in one week. When you tried to make him feel more at home the man would look at you with a dumbfounded look and tell you his home was back in Japan. These gestures seemed to go right over his head.

Korai came along the following season and with another younger player you thought maybe Ushijima would warm up to you. That was a false hope as most of the season was spent rangling Korai for better or worse.

It wasn’t until the youngest Schweiden came that you finally had some insight to the stoic man. Tobio had off handed comments about their matches back in high school. Specifically his first year as he would repeatedly tell you that his team got to go to nationals that year and not his. This didn’t help you a lot but the other things he and Korai drug out of him did.

Soon you tried using Ushiwaka instead of anything else. Tobio and Korai insisted maybe he felt to formal around his manager. It would illicit a response of him looking at you. Just to quickly look away. Then it was anticipating things he might need. Extra towels, clean jerseys for practice, even snacks here and there for long practices. All of it met with him staring at you from either a distance. Or avoiding eye contact with you the second you were within arms reach of him. 

Concerned he might hate you. You tried harder to win your player over. A happy player was a happy win.

“Ushiwaka-kun!” Again this week you flag him down as he enters the gymnasim with Tobio. In your hands are the water bottles you always keep filled for the men even if they bring their own, “And Tobio-kun how are you guys today?”

Like normal Tobio yawned, regardless of the fact it was two in the afternoon, “Fine I guess. Where’s Hoshiumi senpai?”

“Went to go get something for Fukuro apparently it wasn’t clear,” You had a good idea of what a normal Tuesday looked like for your men, “Do you want me to get Toshiro to practice with you two today?”

“Sure,” Tobio thanked you.

But it was Ushiwaka’s scowl that still you wanted to prevent. So of course you offered him a bottle, “I got the electrolyte power you like Ushiwaka-kun.”

Staring hard down at you. It takes you a moment to realize he isn’t staring at the white sports bottle. And indeed staring at you. Ready to open your mouth and ask what the problem was, Tobio nudges him in the side. Korai was seen coming back in from the other end of the gym with Toshiro. Meaning whatever kinship you were trying to cultivate was cut short by the men going to business with practice. Once again foiled in trying to make all your players happy. You sigh and go about the rest of practice helping where you can.

Throughout the practice though something seemed off. Every time you turned around you found Ushiwaka’s eyes on you. No matter where you were in the gym. Be it picking up volleyballs. Or bent over refilling bottles. His gaze followed you from a distance. Having not realized this much until you had unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt to let yourself breath.

Pulling away the fabric from your neck and collar to fan yourself a little. This was when you saw Ushiwaka's face nearly boring holes into you. First you thought he wanted something. But the second you went to go grab a water for him, the six three brute of a man turned away quickly. Stumping you once again for what he was looking at you for.

A second time that day, towards the end of practice, did your attention get peaked once more. You were standing around the men with clipboard in hand. Arms folded up under your bust and waiting for Fukuro and Nicollas to finish their spiel. That your gaze found Ushiwaka's gaze indiscriminately locked onto your chest.

Sure the team members were all taller than you but almost none of them looked at you like that. Even Korai who you always kept an eye on just because he ran his mouth so often. So when it was Ushiwaka's olive green eyes entranced by the dip in your shirt, you had to do a double take to make sure he was really staring at you.

Holding still you forget to listen to what is going on around you. Just staying still, breath caught in your chest as you wonder how long he’s going to stare at you. Unsure if he’s even noticed you watching him. 

Soon there is a heat creeping up on your cheeks. The objectification almost a turn on. You wonder if he’s tried to look down your shirt before. Has he looked at you wearing shorts? Did he notice the one time you wore your leggings with the hole in the crotch? Each daunting thought made your insides twist with giddiness before that was ripped from you the second your eyes met his. 

Like every time before, Ushiwaka looked away. Scowl on his face and refusing your eye contact. Even if he was just staring down your shirt he didn’t decide to keep looking at you for long. You thoughts a buzz as Fukuro called the meeting over and now you had something else to think about.

Thoughts stirred in you from that moment. Perhaps you were trying to get his attention in the wrong way. Practices and meetings didn’t change. But the way you presented yourself did. Keeping blouses unbutton lower. Tucking things up high with the threat of midriff always lurking. You took full advantage of showing yourself off with little comment from the older players. For as far as they were concerned was you were seeing someone outside work. It wasn’t knew for you to spruce up when you had a suitor. There was no suitor but there was someone who had noticed your change in attire.

“Pay attention!!” Korai raged about the third ball that went right by Ushiwaka’s head. This was getting worse by the day and Korai’s fuse was getting shorter. 

“What? I was.” Ushiwaka frowned at his teammate like he was lying.

“Huh?? Really?? Paying attention??” Korai bolstered his chest at his fellow volleyball player, “Three balls what am I your ball boy??”

“No we have one of those.” Tobio interjected. Little to care about Korai getting bent out of shape but he did think it was ridiculous to hear that they didn’t have one.

“Ehh??? I know that!” Korai huffed as he chucked at ball Ushiwaka’s face, “I’m tired of this idiot sucking at practice!”

You overheard the Schweiden youngerster arguing so you look up from your paperwork actually not aware of anything. Practice was almost over so what Korai was getting bent out of shape over confused you and the rest of the team.

“I hit every serve.” Ushiwaka informed the shorter wing spiker like there was no validity to his accusations.

Korai made to mock him childishly and rolled his eyes before looking over at you for some reason, “If he wasn’t thinking about fucking you all the time then we could get something done!”

“Alright!” Fukuro clapped loudly like that was cover up what his teammate decided to blurt out, “I think we’re done for today!”

More than stunned you look behind you like Korai might have been meaning someone else. Even if you were showing a little more skin this past week you still thought it was a joke.

“He’s all pissy because he’s a virgin-” Korai started up again but Nicollas decided he’d put his foot down too to help Fukuro out. 

“Wait and your not?” Tobio looked genuinely surprised at the white haired man.

“What?! No I’m not what kinda question is-”

“Clean up! Or laps now!” Fukuro hollered.

Fukuro’s laps were hell. 

Stunned by that entire transaction right in front of you. It takes a moment before you really even register what Korai said. But it’s then that your eyes dart right over to Ushiwaka. He’s still a virgin? You couldn’t tell it Korai was being a shit or maybe, there was some validity to that?

Sure your cleavage was slightly self indulgent to make yourself feel good. But knowing that you had become a possible fixation was....almost hot?

Now it was your turn to not take your eyes off your teams wing spiker. Had a normal person been called out like that then they would be a mess or at least red with embarrassment. Ushiwaka seemed, unphased. While they cleaned up and didn’t earn actual laps. You hung back with the dwindling fact that Korai told the truth and wasn’t just trying to start something for being crabby.

Having taken too much time after the little outburst. You ended being one of the last people to leave the gym. Nicollas and Toshiro waved you good night. With a small apology for earlier. You laughed it off and chucked it up to Korai being himself. When you turned around though you saw one of your members was still practicing sole. Ushiwaka.

Clipboard hugged to your chest you watch him for a second. Still no illicit response for what happened earlier. Was he just staring at you because he didn’t like you?

No answer as he looks at you once. But then drops his volleyball in the bin to disappear back into the locker room. You guessed you should probably head home now. Only to be stopped with a wicked idea surfacing in your mind.

You could just ask? Where was the harm in asking?

Setting your things back down you make your way back to the men’s locker room. Vacant now so you knew no one was back there but the wing spiker. 

Searching the locker room you spot the younger man over by his locker. Of course getting his things. Maybe things really were in your head and Korai was talking out his ass. But when you watched him peel off his jersey your lady brain had other ideas.

It had been a while since you’d gotten any. Passing into your late twenties did that as did travel and working with a team of constantly sweaty men. So the last time you might have actually seen action was more than a few months. 

Your grip on the edge of the lockers you leaned into tightened. He was, god he was delicious to look at. An impulse and you push away from the locker.

“Ushiwaka-kun!” You hail him but before he can register the intruder in the locker room, you have yourself pushed up against him. Looking up at him with the perfect view down your blouse, “...is what Korai-kun said true?”

For the first time, in almost three years, the glimmer of a response shown on the man’s face. It was subtle. And you would have missed it had you not been watching him so closely. But the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in the most guilty swallow of a man’s life. Korai was right.

Fueled by the temptation of untouched skin. You push yourself up on the man’s lips without question. Knowing full well that no one besides you had touched them. Kissing a virgin never in a million years had you thought it would turn you on like this,

Almost entirely one sided. Not for the sake of the feeling of Ushiwaka lean his tall frame into the kiss. He purely did not know what to do when your lips met his. Stunned by the fact he’d stared at them for countless hours with lewd thoughts always surfacing. Now that it was actually happening though the volleyball savant had no idea what to do. 

Pulling away with a lingering touch on his chest. You realize just the bridge of his nose has gotten a dusting of blush on it. He really had no way to word anything. Perhaps Korai’s loud mouth was the best thing to happen to either of you.

“Let me,” You whisper like someone is going to hear you in the vacant locker room, “Let me show you.”

His thick brows pinch in the middle and he’s left wondering what you want to show him, “What can I see?”

Your heart jumps into your throat. He had no idea and here he was going to take a hasty kiss as enough. You weren’t though after the years of misunderstanding. Now you found a language you could talk to him in.

“Let me show you, what to do,” You look at the hand pressed against his chest. The toned muscles underneath as wonderful to touch as you imagined. Licking your lips you struggle to keep your composure as the need to be the role model came before all else, “Let me teach you about sex and....I’ll guarantee you’ll be the best at it. Promise.”

Nothing but humming taking over any thoughts he had. Just like every time he caught a glimpse down his manager’s shirt. It was the same body tingling hum Ushiwaka got from that as well. Without an idea what to do or say it was Korai’s brash words that came to mind. He told him to always say yes to a lady if she mentioned sex. And looking down at you. The fact sex and the dip in your shirt were right there in front of him. Ushiwaka understood he had to say yes.

“Yes.” He found his eyes locked in on your clevage again. This time it was hard not to be when you pressed your body up against him, “...Yes please.”

Goosebumps prickled over every inch of you. The way your loins aches was unreal. You hadn’t been this giddy and horny since you were a teenager. Quickly to seal the deal you meet his mouth again. This time taking it a bit slower. Until you put your arms up around the back of his neck and pulled him into you, “...lesson one, kissing.” You brush your lips against his and hum, “Kiss me back and follow my lead.”

That was hard. First it was just him pressing harder into your lips than you were into his. When your lips parted though and your tongue grazed his bottom lip is when Ushiwaka dialed it back to truly let you take the lead.

With the sweet taste of his lips on your own. Wrestling for dominance over the kiss was nothing. Seconds in and you had your tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as he at least got the hint to bring his hands up to your sides. Not much but it was something. Ushiwaka was at least trying to take more in the sloppy kiss than he had when you first kissed him.

Finally when you pull back for a breath. It’s more than obvious the tent in his jersey shorts. If his untouched lips tasted this good. Could the rest of him be as delicious.

“Sometimes....” You started slowly, drawing a hand down his neck and peppering his collar bone with kisses, “We use our mouths to kiss more than just lips.”

“Like necks?” Ushiwaka, though holding a steady tone still, was gripping your sides even harder. Outwardly he wouldn’t let on but his body was reacting magically to your touch.

“Necks...” You murmur against his and trail down, “Chests...Stomachs....Private areas.”

Pushing him to sit. Perhaps a smart choice if he’s never experienced it before. You kneel between the wing spiker’s legs. Bringing yourself close to his clothed cock as it stood at attention for you and only you. Of course you lick your lips.

Untouched. Unsoiled. All for you to taste.

Your palms rub against his thighs. Finally the first normal sign he was enjoying himself as Ushiwaka’s moan was dampened by the fight to keep it down. His eyes shut tight and chest heaving a little. You smile as you bring your face close to his groin, “Don’t keep it in....that’s the part of the fun.”

This was true in fact when your lips pressed to the clothed underside of his cock. A deep throaty groan leaving the man. You could smell his precum through his shorts. At this rate you knew to thread carefully less he blow the second your fingers encircled him. And desperately did you wanna taste that cum.

Careful to free his cock from his shorts. You take a moment to not believe this man is a virgin with the length he is packing. Long, girthy, and a sight to be hold. Your mouth begins watering not just at the idea of him being untouched. But at the beautiful cock before you.

“I’m going to touch you....so I can get it in my mouth,” You don’t lie about the showing him thing. Deliberate in your movements. Hands touching up his thick thighs. Until finally the moment of truth. Your fingers curling around his base as Ushiwaka groaned unable to stay quite like he hoped.

The wonderful musk of his precum. And the sight of him nearly shaking in his seat. You could feel your slick coating your cunt lips and threatening to really ruin your panties. Patience was needed though. If you were going to teach him properly.

“Do you wanna look at my tits while I suck you off?” You offer. Eyes shut but he had spent so long staring at them you couldn’t keep them clothed.

Ushiwaka’s green eyes open, contrasting the red tint to his face, and he looks down at your chest so close to his cock, “...yes, yes I would.”

Wasting no time you let go of him just to peel your top off. A reward for him like the blowjob you were about to give him wasn’t enough.

You press your breasts into his thighs. The warmth of your chest sending a shiver up the man’s spine. Nothing compared to the way your hand felt gripping his cock though. Not the slightest idea how delightful his cock was either. So when you finally made a glutton of yourself and swallowed only about two thirds of his cock up. Well, Ushiwaka thought that was just a moment of heaven on earth.

The warmth of your cheeks wet and velvety. Enveloping his cock like nothing his hand could do. Even in his wildest ideas he never  conjured up the idea this is what it would feel like. It was near too much.

You cheeks hallow as you struggle to take all of him. Desperate though. You press more into your mouth as your tongue works over time. Loving the sight as his head tips back and lips part slightly. Finally something you could read from him.

Eager to taste more you bob your head up and down on his cock. Sucking like your life depended on it. His precum soiling your tongue just as your juices seeped into your panties. Even the tingle of your tits pressed to his thighs was turning you on. Seeing him above you, gripping the edge of the bench and heated expression ruining that stoic look. It certainly was something you could get use to.

But no for long. Maybe not even five minutes in and you felt the jerking twitch of his cock. Faster than even you anticipated. It didn’t keep you from pulling your lips off his cock. Instead you wanted it more.

Eyes locked up on his face. Lips slurping what of him you could while your hand moved with you to jerk him off. Ushiwaka had no idea what to do with his hands or what to even say. The way you looked at him left him frozen as the undeniable need to cum finally was too much. 

Warm spurts of cum filled your mouth. Before you were ready so some of the precious treat leaked from your cheeks. A choke and a sputter when you couldn’t keep up with the cum load he was giving you. Almost missing the guttural, almost whiny, moan that left the man above you. Face twisted in pleasure. It drove you to suck him dry of all that cum he was feeding you in his pathetic excuse for stamina. He really was a virgin.

Finally with the taste of his cum on your lips as you cleaned his cock off for every last drop. You look up at the mess of a man and smile. Certainly the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him in two years. You find it easy to believe he wasn’t going to back out of this sex education arrangement now.

Making your way back up his chest. Hands drawing up his toned muscles until you were at eye level with him. You gently press your lips against his. Not too much. Not ready to overwhelm him with the taste of his own cum. But enough that he does figure to lean into you and wrap his arms around the exact spot he did before.

“Do you want me to teach you?” You mumble against his lips.

That same swallow from before. Now though he was a little dazed looking at you as the warmth of your skin was something entirely new, “Yes.”

The want in his voice makes you grin, “What do you want me to teach you?”

“Everything. I want you to teach me everything.”

[nerdzzone]

The Aftermath

Summary: Dealing with the fall out of their first night together isn’t easy for Whitney Taylor or Chris Evans, but given the complicated results of their frivolous activities, it isn’t something they can avoid forever.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part One: Luckless Romance

Note: I was originally going to leave Luckless Romance as a one shot, but I had some requests for a part two. I had it all planned out in my head anyway so I figured I’d write it up to explain more of where our two lovely character’s heads were at!

Please let me know your thoughts! Or if there’s any other parts of their story that you’d like to hear about!

_____

When Chris woke up, the first thing he noticed was the throbbing in his head.

The second thing he noticed was the warm body curled into his side.

His initial reaction to that sensation was confusion, but as the events of the night before quickly came back to him, he was filled with an unignorable sense of dread.

He'd fucked up.

He'd spent a year burying his feelings for her to protect their friendship and all it took was a few drinks and flirtatious remarks for him to risk it all. He cared for her, there was no doubt about that, but he knew she didn't feel the same way. Clearly, she was at least attracted to him, but he'd hazard a guess that her loneliness was the driving factor in why she'd chosen to indulge in the activities they'd partaken in a few hours earlier. She’d had no luck in the dating scene, so she'd settled for him and now, when she woke up, she'd break his heart.

She didn't want him.

She didn't want the life that he could offer.

She'd made it clear that she found the world of Hollywood exhausting when she'd talked about her discontent with living in L.A. and that was a world he couldn't escape from. Plus, his fans had given her a hard enough time when she was just a close friend. If she was to become something more, they would tear her apart. He didn't want that for her and he knew that she didn't want that kind of hassle in her life either.

But he couldn't stand to hear her say it. He never did well with rejection and rejection from this woman - who he knew was absolutely perfect for him - was more than he could handle.

So, after carefully extracting himself from her grasp without waking her, he left.

He felt sleezy and awful not even saying goodbye, but he needed to quiet the noise in his brain before he could face her and he figured she would probably appreciate his absence. He knew firsthand how awkward it was to let down a one night stand the morning after so, really, he was sparing her just as much as he was protecting himself.

The heat outside was stifling already and made Chris realize just how desperate he was for something to quench his thirst. They'd drunk more than he normally did and he was feeling the effects. Perhaps that was why his mind was so fuzzy and unable to process what had happened, but he figured it was a safe bet that he could pin that on his anxiety.

And there were only two people who had much luck soothing him when his mind started racing: his mother and his brother.

He knew his mother would be disappointed in him if he told her what happened. He'd poured his heart out to her several times about the confliction he felt with his feelings for Whitney, he dreaded to think what she would say about him finally doing something about those feelings in such a reckless way and he was definitely too hungover to deal with her reaction to how he'd handled things that morning.

So, that left Scott.

Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time and cringed. It wasn't even six thirty yet and with it being a Sunday there was a good chance that Scott was in a worse post-inebriated state than he was, but he took a chance and hit 'call'.

It took a few rings, but eventually Scott answered, his voice still groggy from sleep.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Scott," Chris greeted him as he crossed the street. He needed to flag down a cab to get home, but figured the quiet park across from Whitney's apartment was a better place for this conversation. No extra ears listening in. "I fucked up."

"Chris, it's not even seven o'clock in the morning. How badly could you have fucked anything up this early?"

He sounded tired and Chris felt bad, but he needed someone to talk to.

"I slept with Whitney."

There was a moment of silence before Scott let out a cheer.

"Finally!" He practically squealed, but then he paused as he took in what Chris had said. "Wait, how did you fuck up? Did you not use your best moves?"

"What? No, nothing like that," Chris' brow furrowed in annoyance. "I fucked up by sleeping with her at all. She's one of my best friends, Scott, and now that's ruined. It’ll never be the same, if she even wants anything to do with me now."

"Did she not seem happy about it? What did she say when you left?"

"Nothing," Chris admitted. "I left this morning before she woke up."

There was a moment of silence as Scott processed his brother's words.

"Okay, I'm starting to see where you fucked up. You shouldn't have done that."

"No, I fucked up by sleeping with her!"

Chris' tone was snappy and uncalled for, but his headache was getting worse by the minute and he was feeling exasperated enough without Scott's judgment.

"Alright, alright, calm down," Scott sighed. "If you want my honest opinion, I think you're overreacting. You two have always had a 'will they won't they' vibe about you. She's clearly just as interested in you as you are in her."

"Why 'clearly'?" Chris questioned. "She's never acted like she sees me as more than a friend."

"Uh, yes, she has. She blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl every time you compliment her, she practically drools at the sight of you and listens with hearts in her eyes whenever you talk. She's got it just as bad as you do."

"Don't do that," Chris groaned. "Don't put ideas in my head that aren't true."

"It is true. I wouldn't lie to you about that," Scott insisted. "I think this is just your anxiety talking. Go back to her place before she wakes up, hear what she has to say and go from there. She might surprise you."

"I'll think about it," Chris lied, knowing already that he couldn't face going back. "Thanks for answering. I'll let you get back to bed."

"Don't mention it," Scott assured him. "I know you're stressed now, but I'm happy for you. It's about time the two of you came to your senses."

Chris smiled despite his disbelief in what Scott had said. He laughed it off and said his goodbyes before walking towards the nearest road to catch a cab.

He saw Whitney's message a few hours later, but he ignored it. He needed to get his head straight and steel himself for however she chose to let him down before he would be ready to talk to her.

It took days for him to get to the point of acceptance, but she never messaged him again. So, working on the assumption that she was relieved by his silence or didn't care enough to demand any explanations, he got on a plane and headed back to Massachusetts with plans to spend the next few months drowning his sorrows and pushing her from his mind.

-

Three Weeks Later

My period was late.

For the last ten years of my life, my period had arrived with impressive reliability and now, a few weeks after having unprotected sex, my period was late.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. There was no doubt in my mind that I was pregnant.

"It's not that easy to get pregnant," Hannah insisted as we sat in my living room, counting down the minutes until the pregnancy test would be ready. "A lot of people who actually want to get pregnant have to try for months before it happens. It seems super unlikely that you'd get pregnant from a random one night stand."

"Yeah, but it does happen to plenty of women," I pointed out. "And knowing my luck, I would get knocked up by a man who then flees the state without another word."

Hannah winced as I paced in front of her.

"Still haven't heard anything, then?"

"Nope, nothing," I sighed. "I haven't reached out again, but he made himself pretty clear by leaving before I woke up and then ignoring my text."

"I just don't get it. He was so obviously into you. I would have bet money that you two would live happily ever after."

"You did bet money," I reminded her. "I'm still waiting for that thousand dollars you promised me."

"You didn't accept!" She smiled. "I owe you nothing!"

While I didn't really expect her to pay me, I was going to argue the point, but the timer we'd set for the test went off and snapped our focus back to the task at hand.

"Oh god," I groaned. "You read it. I can't deal with this."

Hannah nodded and carefully picked up the little stick before looking up at me with a grin.

"It's negative!"

I felt a wave of relief, but it was quickly replaced with doubt. I felt like I was pregnant. My period was late for the first time in years, I'd had sex without a condom and I was nauseous and my boobs hurt. It seemed too good to be true that it was all some kind of coincidence.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" Hannah smiled. "There's two lines!"

Her words hit me like a truck as my stomach dropped.

"Hannah, two lines means positive."

"No, it doesn't," she insisted, reaching for the box. The fall of the smile on her face told me all I needed to know before she even spoke again. "Shit. Sorry, babe. You're pregnant."

I let out a groan as I flopped onto the couch next to her.

"This is a nightmare."

"Shall I get my shotgun?"

I raised an eyebrow at my friend.

"What?"

"For a shotgun wedding?"

I laughed at that suggestion, but shook my head.

"No, I don't want him to be forced into anything."

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "It doesn't really seem real yet."

"Are you going to tell him?"

I looked down at my still flat stomach and nodded my head.

"Yeah, I'll have to. I know it's still new, but I want to keep it so he'll have to know," I sighed. "If he even answers my calls."

"He will," she assured me. "Or we'll fly out to Boston and you can tell him after I kick his ass."

The image that statement conjured in my mind pulled another laugh from my lips as I felt an overwhelming wave of appreciation for my friend. I knew that no matter what, she was in my corner and that was a comforting thought even in the midst of all the uncertainty that was swirling around me.

"Thanks, Hannah," I smiled. "I really appreciate all your support."

"Of course," she reached out to squeeze my shoulder. "Are you going to call him now?"

"No, I think I'll do it later," I informed her. "I want to wrap my head around it a little bit first."

"That's probably sensible," she agreed as a grin slid onto her face. "Wow, you're gonna have a baby, Whit. I know it's scary, but that's really cool."

"Cool isn't the word that I'd use. Try absolutely terrifying."

My earlier smile was still on my face despite my bleak words as I thought about what she'd said. It was somewhat good news. Definitely worrying, especially given my situation with Chris, but I'd always wanted to have kids so it would have been a lie for me to say that I wasn't at least a little bit intrigued by the idea.

-

When Hannah left my house, about an hour after we read the test, I planned on taking some time to fully comprehend the news before I shared it with Chris. However, almost as soon as I closed the door behind my friend, I remembered the time difference. Chris was three hours ahead of me which meant that even though it was only five o'clock for me, it was already eight o'clock where he was.

I felt the anxiety bubbling in my stomach as soon as I came to that realization because I knew that if I wanted to call him that day, I had to do it right away and if I didn’t call him soon, I was worried I’d lose the nerve.

I took a deep breath and went straight for my phone, dialing his number before I could change my mind, but I was crushed when he didn't answer. I waited a few minutes and then tried again, but still, there was no answer and I let out a growl of frustration as I frantically typed out a text.

Hey. Call me as soon as you can. It's important.

I paced around my apartment, the reality of the situation starting to creep in now that he, once again, seemed to be rejecting me. 

I didn't want to tell him news like this over the phone, but I'd seen the paparazzi pictures of him arriving at the airport in Boston so I knew that I had no other choice. However, if he wasn't even going to answer my calls, I'd have to get the news to him another way. My mind immediately started racing with all the possible ways I might have to break the news to him as the panic of potentially having to do this alone started to rise.

But luckily, all those concerns were irrelevant when my phone lit up with Chris' name on the screen.

"Hey," I answered quickly before he had the chance to change his mind and hang up. "Thanks for calling."

There was a moment of silence before he replied.

"Sure," he kept his tone cool and steady, but there was an underlying tension. "What's up?"

The sound of his voice brought tears to my eyes. This was it. This was the make or break moment and I felt my palms start to sweat as it hit me just how devastated I'd be if it didn't go well.

"I, uh, I don’t really want to tell you this over the phone, but I guess I don’t really have much choice," I started. "I got some news today that you have a right to know."

It seemed obvious to me what I would be hinting at considering our current situation and the silence that followed my words led me to believe that he had a pretty good idea what I was going to say. When he stayed quiet, wordlessly waiting for me to continue, I took a deep breath and dove in.

“I’m pregnant.”

I hadn't thought much about how I was going to tell him, but I figured there was probably a better way than blurting it out that bluntly. I cringed slightly at my harsh delivery as his silence was almost immediately broken and he started spluttering and stuttering, stumbling over his words until he managed to blurt out one clear sentence.

"Is it mine?"

A burst of anger flashed through me at such a suggestion.

"Yes! Oh my God, Chris, of course it's yours!" I insisted. "How many people do you think I've slept with in the last month?"

Maybe he thinks you're a slut, the voice in my head taunted me. Maybe that's why he left without a word.

That thought was enough to get the tears flowing and, when Chris didn’t answer my question, I let out a sob. I covered my mouth to hopefully stifle the sound, but I knew he heard it loud and clear.

"Shit, Whitney," he sighed. "That was a dumb thing to say. You just caught me off guard."

"Well, how do you think I feel?" I hissed. "I'm scared, Chris. What are we going to do?"

This time there was no hesitation before he answered.

"I'll get the first flight out tomorrow morning," he informed me. "We can talk about it then."

"Okay," I sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry," he assured me. "It's just as much my fault as it is yours."

My emotions were overwhelming me by that point and I stayed quiet, knowing I'd fall apart if I opened my mouth to speak, but Chris didn't let the silence last too long this time.

"Are you, uh, are you gonna keep it?" He asked, sounding heartbreakingly similar to a small child asking his parents if he could keep the stray dog he'd brought home. "It's your call, but I'm behind you one hundred percent."

"I am going to keep it," I told him quietly. "But you only have to be as involved as you want to be."

"I want to be very involved," Chris answered quickly before letting out a sharp laugh. "Fuck, I'm gonna be a dad."

The sound of more laughter floated through the phone after that realization, but I couldn't tell if it was giddy or hysterical.

"You are," I agreed, feeling some relief from his reaction despite how complicated I knew things would be. "But we can talk about it all when you're here. If you really don't mind coming back."

"Not at all, this is important." He assured me. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll text you with the details as soon as I know."

"Okay, thank you."

He insisted that I didn't need to thank him before we quickly wrapped up the conversation.

There was a lot to say and a lot to discuss, but it wasn’t something to be talked about it over the phone. We needed to discuss it in person once we'd both had time to understand exactly what it meant.

And we needed to figure out what the hell we were going to do about us.

-

I thought having almost twenty-four hours to compose my thoughts would make things easier, but as I waited for Chris to get to my apartment I still had a lot of questions and concerns

But I had decided one thing for certain: we were better off as friends.

When we were friends, he didn't ignore my calls. When we were friends, he didn't run out of my apartment without saying goodbye. When we were friends, he hadn't broken my heart because I never gave him the chance. I was frustrated by his behaviour since the night we spent together and it made me angry. When I thought about it too hard, it made my blood boil and I wanted to tear a strip off of him for making me feel so used. When we were friends, I'd never felt more than a hint of annoyance towards him.

So, the only solution as far as I could see, was for us to stay just friends.

That would prevent any more heightened emotions and if we didn't do it that way, I would end up resentful and bitter. I didn't have much experience with children, but even I knew that those feelings would create a very toxic relationship for raising a child.

Which is why, as soon as he stepped into my apartment, I was on the defensive.

"I think we both know that we're better off as friends," I blurted out before the door was even shut behind him. "What happened was a mistake and now we just have to find a way to work together as friends."

Chris looked surprised, which I found surprising, but he recovered quickly and nodded his head. I'd be lying if I said that wasn't bittersweet. I didn't have the energy to argue with him, but part of me was definitely hoping that he'd put up a bit more of a fight.

"Yeah, I think you're right," he agreed after a moment of thought before changing the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I shrugged. "A bit nauseous and very emotional, but nothing I can't handle so far."

"Good, that's good," Chris smiled. "Have you been to a doctor yet?"

"No, not yet. I have an appointment tomorrow."

"Can I-" Chris paused to clear his throat, looking nervous. "Can I come?"

I felt my heart flutter at the thought of him caring enough to want to come to a doctor's appointment, but I shut those feelings down as fast as they popped up. He cared for the baby, not for me.

"Sure," I nodded. "But it won't be very interesting. I think it's mostly just checking all my basic information so they can keep track and probably some blood tests and vitamin recommendations."

"Doesn't matter," Chris insisted. "I want to be there for it all. We're in this together."

Those words brought more tears to my eyes, but I blinked them back and looked away. In a move that I wasn’t expecting, Chris noticed immediately and took the few steps needed to put him right in front of me.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

His hands settled on my arms and the way he rubbed them would have been soothing if it didn't break my heart. How could this supportive, comforting man in front of me right now be the same man who slept with me and then never called me?

"I'm just overwhelmed," I choked out. "We really fucked up, Chris. How could we be so stupid?"

"I don't know," Chris sighed. "It was a dumb mistake, but we can make the most of it. We can do this."

"I know, I know," I took a deep, shaky breath to try and pull myself together. "It's just a lot to take in and I don't think it's really hit me yet."

"It is a lot," he agreed. "Here, let's go sit down."

I let him lead me over to the couch and then flopped down on it. He sat next to me, but we stayed quiet, neither of us really knowing what to say. After a few moments of tense silence, Chris finally spoke.

"I know this might be asking a lot," he started, the hesitation in his voice making me nervous. "But would you consider moving to Massachusetts?"

It wasn't an unexpected request. I knew Chris was happier there and considered it his home and I had told him how tired I was getting of living in Los Angeles. It was probably the better place for raising a child as well. I'd heard plenty of stories about Chris' childhood and it was pretty idyllic - full of experiences that children growing up in a big city like L.A. didn't often get.

However, it meant that I would have to leave my entire support system behind. All my friends and my family would be here and I would be completely alone except for Chris - who I wasn't even in a relationship with - and a child - who was hardly going to be able to provide much emotional support.

It seemed like the best option for everyone involved except for me and I wasn't sure that was a sacrifice that I was selfless enough to make.

I realized how long his words had been hanging in the air between us as I got lost in my thoughts and my head fell into my hands with a groan.

"I don't think I'm cut out for this," I whined, tears filling my eyes again as I felt a strange mix of emotions There was plenty of regret and with that came guilt because this poor child deserved a mother that didn't dread it's existence. "I'm not mom material, Chris. I don't have the instincts."

"It's all still fresh," he reminded me. "The instinct isn't instant. But I didn't mean to upset you, if you don't want to move to Massachusetts then we'll figure it out."

"No, no, it makes the most sense," I sniffled, lifting my head to look back up at Chris. "It's just scary. I don't want to leave my family and friends and I'll have to move soon if I'm going to so I can find a doctor, it's a lot to think about right now."

"It is, but I can ask Carly about a doctor. My family will support you one hundred percent."

I forced a weak smile, but I felt more nerves bubbling in my stomach.

"Have you told them?" I asked. "Does your mom hate me? I hope she doesn't think I'm trying to take advantage of you."

"No way!" Chris insisted with a chuckle. "She gave me a very stern lecture about being responsible, but I've talked about you enough for her to know you're not some crazed fan looking for a payout."

"That's good." I breathed out a sigh of relief. I knew he was incredibly close with his mother and I didn't want her to think badly of me. "I haven't told anyone yet, except Hannah."

"Downey's gonna kill me, isn't he?"

He shot me a sheepish look as he spoke, but I shook my head.

"Nah, I think he'll be thrilled. He loves babies and he's been teasing me about us getting together since the night we met," I informed him, watching his face for a reaction to that statement. There wasn't any. "He'll probably have a bet to cash in on as soon as I tell him the news."

"Well, that's reassuring," Chris smiled. "I think we'll have enough people who'll be mad at us..."

He was clearly referring to his fans and I cringed.

"What are you going to do about that?"

He shrugged.

"What do you want me to do?"

I took a moment to think before I answered him.

"I don't want you to publicly deny that the baby is yours," I warned him, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to bear hearing that even if I knew that he really had no doubts. "But I don't care if you don't make a big announcement. We can just let people draw their own conclusions."

"Making a statement might be better. It would stop the rumours from getting out of hand. There'd be an uproar, but it would eventually die down," he pointed out. "I'll talk to my team and let you know, but you should probably make all your social media private whatever we decide."

I didn't use social media much and I definitely never posted pictures of Chris, but even so I'd felt the wrath of his fans more than once after we were spotted out together so I knew how they could be.

I nodded in response to his instructions and another silence settled between us.

My mind was racing with questions that I wanted to ask. I wanted to know why he'd left, why he hadn't called, why he'd even slept with me if he really didn't see me that way. Part of me even wanted to cry and plead with him to give me a chance, to let me show him that I was good enough to be more than a friend, but I knew I couldn't handle the rejection. Whatever his explanation would be, it wouldn't change the situation and with everything else we had to deal with, I didn't have the strength for more heartbreak too.

-

When Chris left almost an hour later, we had a firm plan in place.

I would try to get out of my lease - or Chris would pay whatever fee I was charged for breaking my contract - and I would move to Massachusetts by the end of the summer to stay with him. I'd argued that point at first, but his reasoning made sense. He would be in and out once they started filming the last two Avengers movies so I would have the place to myself a lot, but when he was home he'd be able to help with the baby. After the first year, when the newborn phase was done, I would get my own place and we'd work out an official custody agreement.

He promised to come to as many doctor's appointments as he could and offered to pay for absolutely everything that I needed. I assured him that wouldn't be necessary, but I appreciated that he was already committed. Many men probably would have run for the hills in our situation or, at the very least, demanded a paternity test before they made any promises, but Chris was enthusiastic and supportive and I couldn't ask for anything more.

Well, I wanted to ask for something more. I wanted us to be together - I wanted us to be making plans to be a family, not to be co-parents - but I knew that wasn't what he wanted and I was determined to accept that. I needed to focus on counting my blessings and being grateful for what I did get out of our relationship instead of focusing on what was missing and unobtainable.

Even if it broke my heart and hurt me more than the loss of any other romantic relationship I'd ever had, I was going to make the most of it for the sake of our child. It didn't ask to be born into such a messy situation and it's safety and security were quickly becoming the most important things in my life despite the fact that it was hardly more than a bundle of cells at that point.

And as that thought hit me, I realized that maybe I wasn't as lacking when it came to maternal instincts as I had thought.

-

@maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker

[akitokihojo]

Monster - Chapter 12

chapter index

damn near almost forgot it was Friday... anyway, this one's a little shorter, but necessarily so. I hope you enjoy it, nevertheless! <3

----------

Kagome was in a grouchy mood from the rude awakening she’d received early that morning. She wasn’t outwardly expressing herself, but it was a little too difficult to wipe it clean from her face. And, Shinosuke was too amused by it.

It was a young lady who’d woken she and Inuyasha up, and immediately Kagome knew she was there to change Inuyasha’s bandages. When Kagome had first arrived the night before, a small stain was noticeable, but as she sat up from Inuyasha’s side, the front of his bandages were completely soddened with his blood. He was weak and fatigued, eyes opened from his own awakening but irises dull, and didn’t even have enough energy to really grasp her hand anymore. His breathing was shallow, but he tried to narrow a brave look at her. Still, she froze with fear.

The woman, Wakana, wouldn’t allow Kagome to help and insisted she leave. Though Kagome persistently objected, demanding she needed to stay by his side, again she was torn away by the strong arms of Shinosuke.

“He was okay last night!” She frantically cried as he let her go just outside of Inuyasha’s room.

“And, he’s okay now. I swear. This is normal with blood loss, but he’s part demon. He’s going to be fine.”

“No, but -“

“Kagome, I promise! He’s just fucking exhausted from healing, and the medication from last night has most likely worn off. I’ve seen this on numerous occasions. And, you want to be with him twenty-four-seven, I get it. You want to personally witness his progress, but you can’t. It’s not good for you. Wakana’s right, you shouldn’t see him like this right now. You both need a little space from each other.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense. He would never leave my side if I was hurt like that, and I don’t want to leave his.” Kagome argued, bleary eyed.

“Don’t you get it? If you’re in there, he’s going to be focused on your well-being the entire time. He wont want to rest because he’s going to want to make sure you’re calm. I already saw him trying; I was right there. And, you? You’re going to see the most traumatizing wound you’ve probably ever laid eyes on. Trust me, something like that doesn’t just leave your memory. Especially, when it’s happened to someone significant to you. It’s going to scar you, and each time you look at Inuyasha thereafter, you’ll either see the infliction or you’ll be absolutely terrified it’ll happen again, so you’ll overcompensate to prevent it. You both need to be apart. You got pretty banged up yesterday, too. When was the last time you just focused on yourself?” That last question came off playfully sarcastic, but Kagome couldn’t perceive anything but literalism at the moment.

“I don’t know, like thirteen years ago.” She responded blandly. “I have a little brother.”

“Oh my god.” He deadpanned, blinking. “You need to eat something.”

“No, but -“

“Kagome, come on.” Shinosuke placed his hand in the middle of her back to guide her. “I promise, he’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, need some food.”

“I don’t want food.”

“You’re eating food.”

And, so here she was, porridge and fruit placed on a tray before her as she sat on a rather large bed in a rather large room she hadn’t been in before. Kagome nibbled on a strawberry, feeling the grumpy pout written all over her face, her stomach in shambles, and Shinosuke snickering at her from a chair by the door.

“Are you going to watch me all freaking day?”

“That’s literally my job. So, yes.”

“Go away.” Kagome grumbled, half a strawberry in her mouth.

“No.” He smiled.

The door opened slowly, cautiously, Wakana walking in with a soft smile on her face. She pulled her long, brown hair from the low ponytail it’d been in, allowing the straight, flowing strands to hang freely now around her shoulders. Immediately, Shinosuke respectfully stood, giving a light bow of his head when their eyes met.

“He’s perfectly fine.” She assured Kagome, approaching closer. “The hole’s actually a bit smaller already. I was surprised to see such quick improvement. The wound is lathered in some herbs, he’s wrapped up nice and tight, and I had him sip on an herbal remedy to help alleviate some pain.”

“Can I see him?” Kagome softly asked, lowering the strawberry from her pink-stained lips.

“He’s asleep.” Wakana grimaced slightly.

“Can I - can I see him, anyway?”

“No.” Shinosuke chimed, robbing a grape from her fruit bowl.

Kagome scowled at the audacious guard, flickering her attention back at Wakana. “Why is he like this? I don’t think I like him.”

“I don’t think I do either.” She sighed, elbowing him in the side. “Sorry. I know he’s a pain in the ass, but he’s the head of our guards, and papa was right to have him watch over you. Though, your friend doesn’t appear to care as much as we’d thought he would. He can’t even move and he seems to think he can do better.”

“Oh, you told him?” Kagome asked, wondering when the topic could have come up. Though, she couldn’t deny that the response sounded very organic to Inuyasha’s nature. Processing everything else she’d said, her head cocked to the side in a quick subject change. “Wait, papa?”

Wakana gave a small laugh, smacking Shinosuke’s hand as he reached for another piece of fruit. “It’s like clockwork. I walk in, Inuyasha asks for you. We’ve told him multiple times that you’re being protected, but much like you, he wants to be by your side. And, yes. I’m the headman’s daughter. I asked Shinosuke to bring you to my room. Figured it would be more comfortable for you. I also have some clothes that should fit you.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” Kagome kindly declined, handing Shinosuke the fork she hadn’t been using with a slice of honeydew on the end. She wasn’t a huge fan of that fruit, so he could eat all of those pieces for all she cared. “What happened to my clothes from yesterday?”

Wakana arched a spekulative brow. “Ruined?”

“What do you mean, ruined?”

“You didn’t actually expect that blood to come out, did you?” Shinosuke asked after swallowing his fruit.

“Oh, shit.” Kagome hissed. “I forgot! Crap, that was my last shirt.”

“I might be able to save the bodice, though.” Wakana mentioned, nibbling on her bottom lip.

Kagome’s eyes widened, a small pout returning to her face. “My bodice? What happened to my bodice?”

“The seams split. And - um - so did the back.”

It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise. After rolling around in the dirt to fight a demon, what else could she have expected?

“R-I-P.” Shinosuke satirically said, snagging another honeydew. Kagome pinned him with a threatening glare, one he finally heeded as he recoiled drastically, crossing back over to his chair by the door.

“I’ve got plenty of dresses, love!” Wakana said, trying to lift her spirits. “You’re more than welcome to any!”

“I appreciate that, but what’ll I do when I leave here?”

“Take them with you!”

“No, I couldn’t.” Kagome shook her head. “That’s so sweet of you, but I really couldn’t.”

“I insist.”

“No, honestly. I can’t fight in a dress.”

“Neither can I.” Shinosuke commented, his mouth full.

“Oh my god, get out.” Wakana groaned, rolling her eyes as she scowled at Shinosuke.

“Can’t.” He grinned, pointing to Kagome. “Scout’s honor.”

“Then, quiet.”

“That, I can do.” He agreed, sealing his lips.

“Okay, here’s the thing: The women around here don’t really wear bodices anymore; everything’s sort of built into our dresses, and it’s rare to see a woman in pants around these parts -“

“Barbarians.”

Both women glared at Shinosuke, and abruptly, with a tension of fear, he stood from his seat, opening the door and dragging the chair out with him.

“Anyway,” Wakana groaned, redirecting her gaze back to Kagome now that they were alone. “As I was saying, I can probably make you another, and if not, I can consult the seamstress at the edge of town. Let me brainstorm a little on this, is that okay?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble for you. It’s not a problem. I can -“

“No, don’t worry. I love doing this. It’s the little things in life, right? It’s no trouble at all, and after what you two did for all of us yesterday, it’s a pleasure.”

“Oh. Well, alright. Thank you.” Kagome reluctantly agreed.

“For the meantime, let me replace your bandages and get you out of your pajamas.”

Kagome flexed her hand in their new wrappings, her split knuckle coated in a thick ointment beneath and tingling from the remedy’s properties. The scrape on her head had a light layer smeared on, the bandage poking from her bangs and covering the entire area to keep the ointment in.

She could see the enthusiasm on Wakana’s face as she pulled out a few dresses from the back of her wardrobe. She’d explained that she’d made them herself, but there was something else there. A joy that told Kagome she hadn’t been able to pull them out in a while.

“I’d put my hobbies aside for the past couple of years. Who was I to have lavish taste and ease my worries with distractions such as sewing while my people were in a depression, constantly afraid of the henchmen’s next visit? Not to mention, the healthier you looked - and I mean that in all regards - the worse treatment you’d receive. It was best not to attract more attention, you know? I didn’t want them increasing their inspections. Not when there was -“ She stopped herself, glancing over at Kagome. “Not when I had people to protect. Their fear is our fear. So is their pain. And, sadness. My papa, he does his best for his people, and he stands right with them no matter what.

“Once Moryomaru starting coming around, that was when we all stowed away our irreplaceable belongings. My mother’s ashes, a few knickknacks from ancestors, and things of the likes from the village people were stored here below ground. In fact, they’re being brought up to return to their homes as we speak.” Her happiness was indescribable. It was like Kagome could physically see the weight had lifted off of her shoulders.

“But, wait.” She couldn’t help but ask. “Are you positive we got them all?”

“Actually, yes. I wasn’t there to see it happen, unfortunately. I was here in the courtyard with the women that live in this home. With Shinosuke and the guards. Moryomaru was in the midsts of taunting us when they left for whatever was going on, and I remember being so confused in that moment. But, papa told me everything. Inuyasha singlehandedly took all of the henchmen on. More importantly, you two killed Moryomaru. You killed the henchmen’s commander. Their leader. I’m not sure if that’s the end of all inspections, but the henchmen are like chickens running around without a head without someone to tell them what to do. And, I may have never met Naraku, but I certainly figure he finds himself too superior to ever sully his hands by speaking with low lives such as them. I’m sure inspections are about to slow substantially from this point forward. I can feel it.”

“Okay, hold on.” Kagome spoke, leaning on the frame of the bed as she digested that information, brown eyes unfocused on the carpet. “Moryomaru. That’s that thing’s name? That creature?”

“Yes.” Wakana confirmed.

“They were - they were the commander? Of all the henchmen? They were the one who called all the shots?”

“Ultimately, yes. Moryomaru liked to boast about their leadership, that was for sure, and while they had a chain of command it seemed - with a leader of each platoon - Moryomaru was the top. Forgive me, but did you not know that?”

“No.” Kagome admitted, glancing up at the headman’s daughter.

“Oh.” Her brows furrowed in contemplation. “This may sound presumptuous, but you guys came in so ready to fight, we’d sort of figured you were hunting Moryomaru.”

“Not at all. Before yesterday, we’d never seen Moryomaru. At least, I hadn’t. Not sure about Inuyasha, but he’d never mentioned them before. We were in the area when we sensed the demons, and then we heard some screaming so -“

“So, you came to help…” Wakana finished, astonished.

“Yeah.” Kagome nodded.

“You came to help even though you’re a conjurer…”

“Well, Inuyasha did. I can’t take much credit there; he’d made me agree to stay behind so they wouldn’t know about me.”

“Even so, he ran in even though he’s a hanyou. I can’t believe… You guys - you still ended up fighting too, you cant tell me you got these wounds from hiding, and I - you two are - I can’t believe -“ Wakana couldn’t finish her sentence. She’d been incredibly grateful to these two from the moment her father had brought them back to their home, and she thought incredibly highly of them from the instant she understood the incident. But, to learn the circumstance a little better, to comprehend that there was plenty on the line for them too, but they still contributed their strengths to save them, and ultimately so many more, Wakana was awestruck. Heedlessly, she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around Kagome’s shoulders to hug her tight.

Kagome had tensed at first, but recovered quickly, returning the gesture. At first, her touch was light, cautious, but as Wakana leaned further into her, Kagome firmed her hold on the woman.

“Are you okay?” Kagome asked, slightly confused.

“I’m just so thankful to you two.” She leaned back to say, smiling. “To know it was your decision to help and not a job makes it even more meaningful. I can see it’s kind of hard to wrap your head around, but you haven’t just saved my village and people. You’ve saved so many others, as well.”

“But, their leaders… the second in commands, I suppose -“

“Chickens without a head, girl. Chickens without a head.”

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help but fear that you’re wrong.”

“I understand. I don’t think I’ve seen nearly as much of the world and its cruelty as you and Inuyasha have.” Wakana rubbed Kagome’s arm consolingly. There was a chance that she was wrong. Nothing in this world was certain, especially now, and if Naraku created Moryomaru for this purpose, he could absolutely create another monster to take their place. But, from what Shinosuke had experienced, what he and his father had come back to inform her father of, she wanted to believe that this was the first step in overcoming the evil that clouded their lives. So, maybe hearing it from their guard would help alleviate the worry in Kagome’s frown.

“Shinosuke, come here please!” She shouted over her shoulder.

“Ma’am?” The tall man poked his head in through the large doors a short second later, his brows raised in question.

“In.”

“Ma’am.” He complied, taking the order and shutting the door right behind him.

“Tell Kagome what you know about Moryomaru, please. No jokes. Give her what you’ve learned.”

Shinosuke gave a single nod of his head, regarding the conjurer with his charcoal eyes. “They’re a creation of Naraku, derived from his own vessel. They took leadership of the inspectors, having nearly a thousand men at their beck and call at one point. They’d admitted that as their numbers began suddenly depleting drastically, that was when they’d decided to come forward and monitor more inspections to see where the disruption was coming from. It was more to show that if villagers were beginning an uprising, they were there to scare them back in line.”

“And, Moryomaru’s chain of command?” Wakana requested.

“Useless without Moryomaru. They were too involved, had a need for control, so none of their ‘officers’, so to speak, were allowed to make calls without their issuance. Therefore, without him, the chain breaks.”

“How do you know all this?” Kagome’s question came out quietly, taken aback.

A small grimace appeared on Shinosuke’s face and Wakana’s gaze fell downward. There wasn’t much delay before the guard looked to the woman at Kagome’s side and asked, “May I?”

“Of course.” She nodded.

Shinosuke lifted his shirt high enough to show the abnormally large scar stretching over the outer portion of his ribcage. “A few of us guards were abducted by that fucker a few months ago; myself, my father, and Nobunaga. Said we got too bold in thinking we could protect anybody so they wanted to put us in our place - which would serve as a warning to our other guards.”

Kagome’s jaw had dropped slightly, her eyes widening at the deformed scar. Her breath locked in her lungs from her gasp and it was almost like she couldn’t look away from the sealed wound. She couldn’t believe what she was looking at. It should have been fathomable, given everything she’d witnessed over the years, but she couldn’t believe she was in the presence of someone who’d survived evident torture.

“They were in custody for five weeks.” Wakana added solemnly as Shinosuke lowered his clothing. “We didn’t know if they’d return. But, Shinosuke, being Shinosuke, used the opportunity to memorize everything he’d seen while with them.”

“If I lived, I was going to make sure I told everyone who needed to know everything I saw and heard. Tell me, conjurer. Are you someone who needs to know, or who’s just too curious for their own good?”

Kagome couldn’t fight her hesitation. Her fingers curled into apprehensive fists as her nerves gave a small wring of her stomach. No one knew of their quest. No one knew their true objective, Koga being the one exception on Inuyasha’s side. But, even after finding out Koga was part of the war, she still decided not to disclose her purpose. Koga didn’t know what she was, though. That was a huge part of her reason against telling him. There was something different about the circumstances at play here. She’d swooped in with her arrow, and with Inuyasha’s blast from his sword, they’d synchronously created an insanely powerful attack. They’d unknowingly destroyed a war machine. They’d unknowingly annihilated a part of Naraku. The people here knew what she was whether she confirmed or denied, and they were allies. Why hide anymore?

“Inuyasha and I, our mission is to kill Naraku. We want to find a way to end the darkness we’re living in.” She said, leveling her chin confidently.

“That’s what you’re working toward?” He asked, and it wasn’t a test. There was the hint of concern on his brow.

“Everyday.”

“Well, fuck.” Shinosuke sighed. “Sounds legitimate enough to me.”

He walked closer so his voice wouldn’t carry, stopping just a few feet away from the women. Kagome had stiffened slightly, and he knew exactly why. She was afraid. It was a learned reaction. Right now, she was vulnerable, and as far as she was concerned, alone. No matter how many times she was promised safety, assured coalition, it wasn’t always possible to turn off that part of your brain that braced you for the worst. Because, you were trained to expect it after so long. Especially, being someone in her position.

So, as he stopped, he made sure to slowly outstretch his hand. He held it out for her to take, patiently allowing her to register that he meant no harm - only respect. As Kagome slipped her small palm within his hold, he wrapped his fingers firmly around it, carefully stepping inward, bending forward, and whispering in her ear.

“Naraku has five creations. Excluding Moryomaru, I encountered two. They were named Hakudoshi and Kagura.”

—

There was a small abatement from the storm. It was a little humid outside, but Kagome just wanted to be absorbed in the scent of rain. Finally accepting that while she was staying at the village’s headman’s home Shinosuke was an accessory to her person, she decided to drag him outside to take a walk with her.

Wakana had been so patient and kind, so Kagome had allowed her to have some fun and dress her the way she so pleased. Having to put it away for quite some time, Kagome could see the freedom on her pink cheeks as she finally got to dive into her creativity again. It made Wakana happy, and after so much tentative care to both she and Inuyasha, Kagome was glad to be the first she expressed her art on again.

Unfortunately, it was a little obvious she hadn’t worn a dress in well over a decade. Let alone, had never once in her life worn a dress quite this nice. Shinosuke had called her out for her incessant fidgeting three times and kept snickering at her whenever she readjusted the cut around her breasts. It was a little lower than anything she was used to, and the low dip had her feeling extremely exposed. She wasn’t. Each time she instinctually went to put her breasts away she had to keep reminding herself that they were exactly where they were meant to be, but it was just weird to feel so much of a breeze.

The sleeves were off the shoulder, fastened to her upper arms by a material that clung. The rest of the sleeves were long and flowy, cut in the middle for her arms to slip out of had she reached for something. Never in her life had Kagome worn such a pretty shade of pastel pink, nor had she experienced little, blush roses made of silk fastened to her bust, nor had she had the opportunity to feel ribbons made of the same, tied in a bow at the center of her sternum. Tiny leaves were sewn into the fabric just beneath her breasts, cinching the dress to her ribs, and the same was said for her waistline, holding the gown to her as the rest of the length of the skirt was free to flow around her entire lower body.

Kagome’s hair was brushed, waving naturally, but tied half up in a twisted bun that was held in place by pins unseen. Her bangs were in tidy order for the first time in weeks, and Wakana was meticulous to pull the strands that framed her jawline free from the bun. She’d asked to put a subtle hint of glitter on Kagome’s cheeks, and considering it was a huge day of firsts for her, Kagome could only bring herself to shrug in a huge, why the hell not?

Truthfully, the doting makeover was fun for Kagome, too. While she felt more comfortable in pants and a shirt, it was only because it was what she was used to, and functionality called for it. She actually really loved dresses. The look of them, at least. With it being years since she’d even considered wearing one, she wondered so often if she could even pull them off. And, when she finally got a look at herself in the mirror once Wakana had finished, pride gleaming in the woman’s eyes, Kagome couldn’t help but grow incredibly shy. She loved the way it looked on her, but it was so different.

“Tell me you’re not girly without telling me you’re not girly.” Shinosuke jabbed, chuckling at her side as they strolled around the outer pathway of the mansion.

“Hush.” Kagome sighed. “I think I was eight the last time I wore a dress.”

“They’re not going anywhere.” He remarked, regarding the way she kept fixing the bust of her dress. “Believe me, there are women in town with bigger breasts than you that do manual labor in dresses made of thinner material, and they’ll proudly tell you that their tits stay in place.”

Another sigh as she dropped her hands to her side. “I’m just not used to it.”

“I thought you liked it.”

“No, I do. It’s pretty.” Kagome assured, looking up at him and nodding. “I’m just - I mean, like I said, I’m - I’m not used to it.”

“Ah, I get it.” Shinosuke smirked, looking ahead of them. “You’re self conscious.”

She didn’t say anything. She merely looked at the thriving plants to her right, minding how the petals of flowers were still dotted with droplets of rain. The sky was still blanketed in dark clouds, conveying that the storm had yet to fully pass, and the air was thick with the comforting smell of moisture.

“May I compliment you?” He respectfully asked.

Kagome glanced up at him again, curious. “Not if you feel obligated.”

“I just want to make sure I won’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh. I appreciate that.” She really did. She understood that he was simply trying to make her feel more secure with his honest thoughts while not trying to offset her by making it seem he was overstepping any boundaries. Not many men had that courtesy. “Sure.”

Shinosuke stopped, turning to the woman at his side. It was interesting to him to see such a strong female who’d participated in taking down a plague to their society seem so small and timid in such a superficial environment. Maybe she was the sort who didn’t realize her beauty. Maybe she was the sort that didn’t really focus on that sort of thing, and this element - delicate femininity - was abnormal to her. Given such, it was irrelevant. Anyone with eyes could see that even when she ran into the courtyard yesterday along her battered companion, covered in scratches, dirt, blood, and fear she was inherently beautiful. Now, cleaned, bandaged, still slightly guarded but overall level, Kagome was enchanting. And, he could easily tell that that was what Wakana was trying to enhance.

It wasn’t that she was merely letting loose and having fun. Wakana was specific to adhere to the minds of others, as well as their hearts. She’d wanted to distract Kagome from her partner’s condition. She’d wanted to make her feel a little better about herself while she knew things, in general, felt off to not have Inuyasha beside her. Sometimes, it was the little things that brought a smile to appear. A genuine smile.

Kagome was brave, fierce, and selfless. That, alone, was gorgeous. And, Wakana was trying to bring that inward appearance outward so Kagome could see the exact way she was looking at her.

Shinosuke took a moment. He noticed the small hint of pink on her cheeks, the way she’d nervously been pinching her lips together since the moment they’d stepped outside - which had inadvertently created a nice, rosy hue, the way her hair was waving just a little bit more than before due to the slight humidity. He smiled softly, tilting his head to the side.

“I think you’re beautiful. I think you worry too much, and that if you just stood up a little straighter, held your head up a little higher, and allowed yourself to step out of your comfort zone, you’d own your radiance. I think you could stop men in their tracks, and I think it’d be cute to see how confused you are when it happens, because you seem just air-headed enough not to understand what sort of affect you have on people. Even looking as worn out as you did yesterday, you were pretty. Right now, you’re - Kagome, you’re beautiful.”

He’d said it directly, compassionately, kindly. It wasn’t from a place that would make her stiffen with shyness, but a place that made her smile from genuine benevolence.

“Thank you.” She said. “You’re pretty, too.”

Shinosuke laughed, patting Kagome’s head and redirecting her to walk along the path through the courtyard.

At the very edge, before the entrance from town and just before Shinosuke turned her around, a little girl with her brother ran up, hand-in-hand. A soft rumble of thunder struck in the distance, and the smell of rain had become just a little heavier in the passing minutes. Yet, the children seemed untroubled by the threat, staring wide-eyed at Kagome.

“Mayu, no. Go home.” Shinosuke quickly said as she opened her mouth. “Not right now.”

“But -“ The little girl quickly went to argue, but her brother was already trying to tug her away. He seemed unwelcoming, protective, and the one that liked to steer a little more on the careful side.

“Has anything I’ve ever said been negotiable?” Shinosuke asked in a firm tone.

“No, but -“

“Then, go home. Your mother probably doesn’t even know you’re out here, am I right?”

“Yes.” Satoru claimed with contempt. “Mayu didn’t want to listen to me and decided to sneak out while mom was napping. So, I came with her. Sorry, Shinosuke. We’re leaving.”

“No, I need to talk to her.” Mayu tried again a little louder, stomping her foot for added effect.

“Not right now, you don’t. Satoru, is your mother unwell again?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.” The identical boy answered.

“Mayu, come on.” Shinosuke bargained, kneeling down before the two children. “Please, don’t stress her out further right now. Wait for the storm to pass, at least. You know how much your mom worries about you. You need to give people time to adjust and recover. You aren’t the only person to consider here.”

Kagome could see the little girl fighting herself. Her dark eyes bounced from Shinosuke to her and then back to the guard, nostrils flaring at her frustrated huff.

“Be patient. Now’s not the time to be selfish. Go home.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, and then darted a glare toward Kagome, catching her completely off guard. “But, I’ll be back!”

Shinosuke stood, returning to Kagome’s side as the two children ran off down the street, taking an alley corner.

“Why - why did I feel like that was a threat?” Kagome warily asked.

“Eh, she’s harmless. Mayu’s rough around the edges, for sure, but she’s a good kid. Satoru’s the one you should watch. He used to be this timid boy a couple of years ago, barely spoke, hid behind his twin sister, the works, but then one day he just switched. Mayu comes off tough, but her brother’s the one that’ll actually scare you. Believe me.” He said, placing his hand at her mid back to turn her around to head back through the courtyard garden.

“Well, what was it she wanted to talk to me about? It seemed urgent.”

“It’s not. She’s just pushy. I can guarantee she’ll be back, hopefully at a more appropriate time, and she’ll be able to bug you then. If you’re okay with that, of course. If not, tell me now. I’ll be able to keep her at bay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

“Because, you’re a conjurer. And, she’s going to bring that up.”

“Ah, that’s right. She asked me yesterday, but the headman stopped her.”

“I know it’s a touchy subject. She’s going to be a ten year old, and she’s not going to understand boundaries.”

Kagome pressed her lips together again, grazing her fingers over the large leaves that waited for their next dosage of moisture as they strolled along.

“Thing about her is, she keeps secrets better than any adult I’ve ever met. So, if you’d like to see what she has to ask you but you’re worried about you’re answers getting out, don’t be. Mayu would take it to the grave. And, Satoru - because they come in a pair - barely speaks to begin with, and his loyalty lies with his twin. If she’s keeping a secret, so is he.” Shinosuke added, carefully maneuvering Kagome around a puddle.

“It’s alright.” She spoke softly, smiling. “I don’t mind. I’ll talk with her next -“

“There you are!” Wakana cheerfully greeted from over the second story bannister, overlooking the courtyard. “I’ve been looking for you two.”

“What’s up?” Shinosuke asked.

“Inuyasha’s awake. Kagome, would you like to see him?”

Kagome’s heart gave a heavy thump in her chest, and her skin ignited in an excited eruption of warmth. With an anxious breath, she nodded eagerly, rushing the rest of the way toward the main house where Wakana agreed to meet them on the first floor.

“Here’s the thing: he’s a little grumpy at the moment. Not very talkative, speaks with more grunts than words, seems perpetually upset but won’t admit he’s in any pain when we ask…” Wakana mentioned as she guided them through the corridors.

“That’s actually normal.” Kagome replied, pursing her lips.

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah.” She remarked, nodding. “Inuyasha’s not known for his compassion, I’ll tell you that. He likes to handle things on his own, so I’d say, if he’s not wincing or yelling at you, he’s fine.”

“Oh, okay. Well, in that case, he’s pretty lively. He’s sitting up with minimal problem, but he’s been asking for you. I told him to eat and we’d go and find you after, but he refused. Said he didn’t want food. Or medicine. He really should have something in his stomach before his next dose - given he stops declining it. Maybe you could convince him to try and eat?” Wakana inquired, turning to look at Kagome while they walked as she was a few steps behind.

“He doesn’t listen to me.” Kagome objected with a modest shake of her head.

Both Wakana and Shinosuke shot surprised looks at her, and Kagome felt herself go on cautious alert, almost freezing.

“You’re kidding.”

“No?” She replied, confused. “Inuyasha never listens to me.” Kagome reiterated.

“I’m sorry, I sort of thought you two were on a… how do I put it? I sort of thought you two were on a level where you take each other’s advice.”

“Oh, Inuyasha’s stubbornness puts mine to shame. He doesn’t like to be told what to do. All it does is make him want to do the exact opposite. And, if I give him advice, he just thinks it’s nagging.”

“Wait, hold on, hold on. Pause.” Shinosuke said, stopping in the middle of the hall with a hand held out to halt her. Kagome’s wide eyes landed on him, lips parted in question. “What are you two?”

There was hesitation, dubiety, as Kagome did a gentle sway from side to side before finally speaking again. “What - uh - what do you mean?”

“Like, what are you and Inuyasha?”

Kagome glanced back and forth from Shinosuke to Wakana, noticing the same question was written all over Wakana’s face. “I - I don’t -“

“You know exactly what I’m asking.”

“I - uh - we are… friends.”

“Uh-huh, why did that sound like a question?” Shinosuke interrogated, crossing his arms over his chest while he arched a brow, smirking now.

“I-it wasn’t. It wasn’t.” She ended up saying with more confidence the second time. “We’re friends.”

“You’re friends?”

“We’re friends.” Kagome couldn’t help the nervous smile she’d cracked that time. She bit the inside of her lip, her swaying growing more obvious to speak of her discomfort and uncertainty. And, she cursed herself for that as she fiddled with the long sleeves of her borrowed dress.

“Are you sure?”

“We’re friends. We’re friends. We’re friends.” Kagome repeated awkwardly, nodding as she looked back and forth between the two. “We’re friends.”

“Say it one more time, you might just convince yourself.” Shinosuke remarked, chuckling.

“We’re -“ Kagome caught herself, pinching her lips together as she deflated slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” Wakana started, grimacing. “I thought you two might have been in a relationship. We all did.”

“Everyone thinks that?” Kagome apprehensively asked.

“Could you blame us?” Shinosuke spoke, amused. “I don’t know friends who sleep that close to each other. Not the way we found you two.”

“Well, maybe you should try it.” Kagome feigned attitude, pursing her lips. “It’s comforting.”

“Mhm, I know. I sleep like that with Wakana.” He sassed right back.

Kagome’s attention snapped Wakana’s way just in time to watch her roll her eyes.

“We’re engaged.” She said.

“Oh,” Kagome nodded. “Well, that makes sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Shinosuke pressed, laughing as he caught Kagome in her own shock.

She’d opened her mouth to speak, to say anything in defense, but nothing came out. She was flustered and confused.

“It’s okay not to know.” He chuckled, patting her head again. “But, I gotta tell you, you’re not just friends.”

An overwhelming sense of bashfulness washed over Kagome then. Her face went hot and she ducked it. She couldn’t remember a time she’d blushed so horribly, and as she gazed down at the floor, she caught how red her chest even appeared at the bottom of her eyes. Her feelings were obvious. By now, she got that. Being called on it didn’t change how humiliating it was, and it only increased her confusion.

Shinosuke placed his hands on her shoulders, guiding her to walk down the hall while she couldn’t help but continue to hide her embarrassment. She and Inuyasha were friends. That wasn’t a lie. But, she couldn’t speak for his feelings. If anyone were to ask her how he felt about her, the only things she was certain about were his undeniable protectiveness, his caring nature whenever she wasn’t feeling well or they were alone, and that she annoyed the absolute hell out of him. If Shinosuke and Wakana were to have asked Kagome for her individual feelings for Inuyasha though, her answer would have been different. And, much more rattled. Because, she cared about Inuyasha now more than she cared even for herself. She appreciated the hanyou more than the water she drank or the food she ate. She had an attachment to him she never wanted to think about giving up. And, after witnessing his brutal injury yesterday, seeing blood stain his body, having to catch him as he fell, she dreadfully feared losing him in more ways than one. She felt it all so deeply. To the point where she couldn’t sleep last night unless she was touching him. To the point where he was on her mind constantly in their mandatory separation. To the point where the closer they got to his quarters, the more unnerved and stable she felt herself becoming - like a walking case of contradiction.

But, the moment the door was open, and Wakana walked in ahead of them to greet whatever staff was alongside the hanyou, and Shinosuke released her shoulders to enter in before him, and the moment her brown eyes found Inuyasha sitting on his futon, lower body covered by the blanket, back leaning against the wall, and torso heavily bandaged, all of those thoughts faded away. They were insignificant and superficial. They didn’t match up to the way he sat up a little taller at her appearance, bringing a small cringe of pain from his lips. They didn’t equate to the way she watched the breath leave his inflated chest, and how his golden eyes stayed on her as she hurried across the room to him. They didn’t matter in the face of how much she just needed to be right next to him at that very instant, and those thoughts that had her feeling scared had vanished completely. Maybe it was momentarily, but that was inconsequential. Because, she was just inches from his arm now, she could smell his clean scent, and she could feel the body heat that reached her like a hand that pulled her in.

Inuyasha had finally caught her scent again. It was something he hated about stormy weather. Rain clouded his olfactory system, and if something or someone wasn’t close by, he’d never be able to tell where they were. It was different to sleep without her aroma near him, and he was sure that if it weren’t for whatever drugs they kept putting in his body, he’d have never drifted off in the first place. The moment he regained consciousness not too long ago, noticing women by his side that weren’t Kagome, cleaning his wounds, changing his wrappings, he felt out of sorts. All he could think about was her, worry about was her. Who were these women? Where was Kagome? She’d been hurt the day before. Was she being taken care of? He vaguely remembered a woman telling him Kagome was being carefully protected for his own peace of mind the last time he was awake, but that was no fucking comfort whatsoever. He didn’t trust anyone with her, let alone someone he had never fucking met, himself.

The moment her calming scent, subtle and light, found its way into his sensitive nose, Inuyasha was on alert, watching the door to his room and ignoring the staff that had been left with him. They were trying to get him to take medicine, trying to get him to lay back down if he wasn’t going to eat so they could put a cooling rag on his head for his splitting migraine, but it was as if they weren’t even there anymore the second he sensed Kagome coming. Then, she entered, and even coherent thought ceased to exist.

That dress. That dress adorning her fair skin. It was both cruel to him and enticing. It complimented her figure, it flowed around her legs, it belonged to her body and should never be replaced. Kagome sped across the floor to rejoin him at his side, cutting off his clear view, and he found himself dissatisfied. He wasn’t done. She couldn’t enter a room like a goddess here to grace his presence and not give him ample timing to properly memorize the image.

Still, be that as it may, his gaze followed her. It wasn’t an order his brain gave to his eyes and head as she sat by his damaged arm, anxious and relieved. Inuyasha legitimately couldn’t take his eyes off of her. If he had that sort of control, if he did himself the injustice by looking away before he was ready, he would have cursed himself for days to come. If he couldn’t take her all in, he was going to take in as much as he could.

He was breathless, dazed, but in his right mind. Kagome had him captivated. She walked in and her smile reached his soul. All at once, he was stunned and comforted. And, he was grateful.

She’d asked him if he was okay. He hadn’t heard her words, spoken so lightly, but he’d watched her lips move. With his left hand, Inuyasha reached across to her, his finger gently rubbing just beneath her chin as he nodded. He was going to speak, but his amber irises fell to her shoulders, the skin he’d yet to be fortunate enough to really see until now. Small, brown and tan freckles dotted her shoulder. There weren’t an abundance, but there were just enough to steal his focus. With everything in him, he wanted to kiss each and every one, and with everything in him, he reminded himself that it was the wrong place at the wrong time.

“This arm,” Kagome mentioned, looking down at the bandaged shoulder and bicep. “You can’t really move it, can you? I should switch to the other side.”

She glanced to the woman that occupied his left, about to ask if she’d mind switching with her before Inuyasha finally spoke.

Now was his chance. The golden opportunity. “No, it’s - it’d be better if you sat in front of me. My neck’s stiff, so turning it sucks right now.” He fibbed.

“Oh, okay.” She obliged with a nod, scooting herself to sit by his thigh. Her back was now turned to the entrance, fully facing her companion as she gently leaned against his leg. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Better.” Now he could get a perfect look at her.

Kagome was trying not to concentrate on his torso, on the wrappings that dressed his bare core. It would only increase her obvious concern, and it wasn’t something she wanted to immediately bother Inuyasha with. Instead, she occupied her sights with anything else; his fingers that rubbed against the blanket covering him, his soft gaze on her, his long hair that wasn’t held captive in a high ponytail like she was so used to, then the tray of food at his side.

“You haven’t eaten, have you?” Though she knew the answer already, she figured it was respectful to allow him to speak for himself.

Inuyasha looked down to his untouched food, the bowl of fruit, the bread, the meat, the rice. He couldn’t think about eating before when all that occupied his mind was Kagome. He needed to know she was okay before he even considered taking a bite.

“No.” He lightly replied.

“Did you eat this morning?”

He shook his head.

“That means the last time you ate was yesterday morning, Inuyasha.” She gently reminded, her brow curved in concern. “Do you not have an appetite, or -“

“Have you eaten?” Inuyasha interrupted, eyeing her.

He noticed the way the hollow of her throat emphasized with her inhale as her lips sealed for a second, her shoulders tensing the slightest bit. She was quick to relax, her fingers playing with the loose skirt of her dress. “Yeah, I ate not too long ago.”

“Did you?” He questioned skeptically.

“I did.” Kagome nodded.

The hanyou looked over to the tall guard at the far end of the room, standing next to the woman he’d seen more often than Kagome in the last twenty-four hours. “You the one who’s watching her?”

“I am.”

“What’s your name?”

“Shinosuke.”

“Has she eaten? She tends to not be able to stomach much when she’s uncomfortable or anxious.”

Kagome stiffened at the correct observation. She hadn’t realized Inuyasha paid attention to the mundane details of her characteristics, especially well enough to be able to relay it to others. That was something she didn’t much talk about, nor necessarily know when or how to bring up. So, she’d eat a little when food was placed before her to curb worry, but when her stomach told her to stop, she’d heed the warning.

Shinosuke fought his smug grin, watching the conjurer slowly duck her head. Though he couldn’t see her face from where he stood, he knew - just fucking knew - she was blushing again. Yeah, okay. They’re friends, alright.

“She had some fruit a couple of hours ago. Didn’t eat it all.”

“Just fruit?” Inuyasha’s attention shifted back to Kagome.

“More than you’ve eaten.” She remarked.

He chuckled lightly. She had him there. “I’ll share with you. I’m not that hungry, either.”

“We can go get her her own plate. It’s no trouble at all.” The housemaid on his left said, but Inuyasha shook his head.

“We’ll share. It’s fine.” It was his own way of protecting her from feeling obligated to eat more than she could handle out of sheer courtesy.

Kagome looked at the food as he placed the tray on his lap. The heavier stuff was incredibly unappealing. It looked like it tasted great, but the thought of eating it had her tummy turning upside down. In silent communication to her partner, she glanced from the meal to the hanyou, sucking in her bottom lip nervously.

Inuyasha understood what she was conveying. She really couldn’t eat too much right now. “You like strawberries, right?”

“Mhm.” She hummed, her tone small.

“Here.” Inuyasha picked the strawberries out of his bowl, putting them in the corner of the tray nearest her.

“But -“

“I don’t like them.” He lied. Inuyasha knew she was about to reject, not wanting to take the option of something sweet from him that he may enjoy, but he really didn’t care. He wanted her to eat, and if she liked them, she could have them all.

Both Shinosuke and Wakana had pressed their lips firmly together to hide their grins, giving each other little side glances as their surprise continued to escalate. Their hanyou guest was now eating, something Wakana couldn’t get him to do no matter how much she'd tried. How did Kagome question anything? How did she not see what everyone else could see? It was innocent and adorable, and a crime to interrupt.

“Ladies, let’s give them some space.” Wakana suggested, clapping her hands together once. “There’s no need for us to be here right now.”

The few staff in the room bowed slightly in compliance and rose to leave, the patter from their feet heard as they trailed toward the door.

“I’ll be back in a little while to give you some medicine. If you need anything in the meantime, we’ll be down the hall.”

Finally, they were left alone. Inuyasha felt the tension in his shoulders relax a little. Having eyes on him all the time was stressful and he fucking hated it. While he knew they were merely being kind and doing their jobs, it was still something he’d never grow accustomed to. More than that, Kagome was right where she belonged. No one was taking her away, no one was disrupting their time for the moment, and no one was playing bodyguard to the person he was supposed to protect.

“I need you to eat a little bit more than fruit, Kagome.” He tried, tearing off a chunk of his bread for her. “This or rice.”

“Tear that piece in half and you’ve got a deal.” She wagered.

“Nope.” He chuckled again, giving a minor wince from the pain it brought his abdomen. He recovered, hoping she hadn’t seen, but it was Kagome. Of course, she’d noticed. Her brown eyes were large with worry, a frown appearing, and she sat up a little straighter in preparation to help in any way she could had he needed any. “I’m fine.” Inuyasha assured.

She didn’t speak, sights drifting down to his bandaging. It was like she was waiting for blood to reappear.

“Hey,” The hanyou reached forward, taking her chin in his fingers and bringing her attention back up to his face. “Stop it. I’m okay. Eat the bread.”

“Your arm -“

“I can move it.” He mentioned, releasing her and giving her the chunk he’d torn off. “I just cant reach up or anything. Not yet. Give it another day or two.”

Not wanting to upset him right now, she decided not to argue or fight him on eating. If all he was requesting was for her to eat a few pieces of strawberries and a small chunk of bread, she could handle that.

He’d eaten as much as he could too, and as soon as they were finished, he placed the tray off to his side, leaving it there to be forgotten. Inuyasha went right back to taking the conjurer in, allowing the image of her in that dress to burn into the forefront of his mind. That soft shade of pink complimented her so well, especially when her face tinted just a bit darker. The glitter on her cheeks was a nice touch, but her hair dressed half up the way it was suited her so fucking well. It was cute. She was gorgeous. He was awestruck.

Kagome had caught him looking, quickly growing shy. Remembering the lower cut of her bust, Kagome covered the cleavage that showed, desperately not wanting to make him uncomfortable right now. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Inuyasha was swift to assure, reaching for her wrist and pulling it away. “Go back to how you were.”

Her skin was warm, and as her hand landed on her thigh, his own wandered down, playing with the fabric over it.

“Do you like it?” She asked curiously.

“Don’t make me answer that.” He tried not to let his tone convey how imperative it was that she didn’t push him in that direction. Inuyasha would lose his composure. He was already riding a fine line, but if he said yes, he’d feel compelled to further admit just how dangerous it was for him to be so near her while she looked like this. His heart wasn’t fairing well as it was. He wasn’t sure he could handle voicing that on top of it.

Kagome couldn’t help but grow increasingly nervous. He seemed hardened, maybe a little put off. Even though his fingers were continuously playing with the length of her dress, skimming her thigh over and over, she couldn’t help but worry with that answer that the clothing didn’t suit her as well as she’d thought.

“Do you hate it?” She unintentionally asked, her voice carrying smaller.

Amber eyes shot up to hers, then drifted down over the curve of her body. He hadn’t meant to come off any sort of negative way, though he understood how it’d happened. Hate. It was laughable to imagine that, given his current state of mind. If she had a way in, she’d understand that hate was far from what he actually felt.

“No. Not at all.” Inuyasha answered, sucking in a breath to keep himself grounded. Her scent was heavy and soothing, and as he found himself staring at her plush lips, he realized that the strawberry tint had him wanting to kiss her now more than any other time he’d considered it. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even blame the medicine for the thoughts that wouldn’t quiet this time. In an attempt to silence them anyway, he continued to speak. “Where did this come from?”

“Wakana. She likes to make dresses.” Kagome answered, a smile curving her lips upward.

“Is she the lady that woke us up this morning?”

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s the headman’s daughter.”

“Oh, that’s right. I vaguely remember her mentioning that, but I was fucking out of it when she did.”

“She’s super nice. Unfortunately, my clothes didn’t survive, so I’m stuck borrowing some until we figure something out. She mentioned making me something, but it might be easier for everyone if we just head to a shop.” She said, fighting her instinct to adjust her dress again.

“Did your bodice make it?” Inuyasha smirked teasingly. As he watched a dramatic pout form on her lips, he really had to put effort into not laughing. The motion would only hurt him, and he wasn’t sure she needed that right now - though she’d have to deal with the amused expression he couldn’t hide.

“It tore.” Kagome whined.

“Called it.”

“Shut up.” She gave a light smack on his thigh, her pout remaining.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the bandage on her head, or the one on her knuckles, and it was impossible to ignore the scrape he’d gotten a peek at on the back of her shoulder and the redness that didn’t belong on her cheekbone. It just wasn’t something he wanted to talk about first. Now that they were in the realm of the subject, Inuyasha grabbed her hand, pulling her to lean closer to him so he could push her bangs out of the way. No blood seeped through the bandage, so at least he knew it wasn’t bad. Still, his memory of her condition was extremely foggy.

He hadn’t forgotten the horrible amount of blood staining her stomach and arm, though. How could he? That, unfortunately, stayed with him even while he was unconscious. Without warning, Inuyasha’s palm found her waist and he pressed against it gently, feeling for wrappings he was worried she would lie about. When he felt nothing, his hand continued to travel over the general area he’d remembered the blood being in. If she winced, he’d feel awful but at least he’d know she was wounded and couldn’t keep it from him.

“What are you doing?” Kagome asked, concerned. Inuyasha didn’t answer, but his earlier amusement had gradually vanished, shifting to something pressing and off. His jaw was clenched, but instead of the furrowed look of his brow she’d grown used to, it was curved upward in distress.

The only flinch she’d made was when he pinched around her ribs, and he knew he’d only tickled her; it wasn’t one of pain. Still, he searched, breaking from her abdomen momentarily to pull her right arm out of the part in the loose sleeve, looking for signs of wounds. The flesh wasn’t broken at all along her forearm, but still she’d been covered in blood. She’d said it wasn’t hers, but there was so much. There was so fucking much. It was like he was realizing his worst fear, and all that flashed through his mind was how that green shirt clung to her stomach wherever the crimson had soaked.

“Were you hurt? What happened, Kagome?” He finally asked, once more touching her waist to feel if he’d missed something.

“I’m fine.” She’d stated, almost unsure. But, then it clicked. She understood what he was looking for. “No, no. That blood wasn’t mine. I was attacked by a demon, but that was his blood. I swear.”

“Kagome, how the fuck…” It wasn’t that he was exasperated. It was that he desperately needed to know. He’d agitated his nerves just now, and all he could think about was her hurt, mortally wounded while he couldn’t get to her.

“Do you want to see? Would that help? There’s nothing there, I promise.”

“Show me.” The hanyou hastily agreed.

She was quick to oblige, reaching for a clean towel off to the side. Skillfully, she shoved it beneath her dress to blanket the upper portion of her thighs, covering up what didn’t need to be seen as she then pulled the skirt up to expose her tummy. Kagome allowed him to look as long as he needed, to feel the skin of her abdomen, to reach around to her back and feel for any bandages or wounds - the both of them ignoring his grunt and wince as he leaned forward for better reach.

“It wasn’t mine.” Kagome swore again, lowering her garment as he sat back against the wall. She discarded the towel and breathed out, ready to relay the events that had unfolded. “The demon came out of nowhere, and grabbed me from behind. My arrows spilled everywhere, so it turned into a head-on fight. I got him pretty good.” She smirked with the hint of pride, raising her right hand as she looked down at her bandaging.

Inuyasha tenderly took her fingers, bringing it closer to him. Her knuckles were wrapped tight, and to his dismay, there was the slightest hint of pink poking through the off-white wrappings. He didn’t release her hand. He didn’t want to. He lightly stroked his thumb over her wound, lowering it to his thigh to hold there as he glanced back at her to get the rest of the story.

“The blood came from me stabbing him. He was on top of me so I used my dagger to get him in the side.”

“With purification?” He inquired.

“Of course.” Kagome answered.

“So, he’s dead?”

The memory of the demon’s body collapsing on top of her lit up in her mind, and her throat tightened. Swallowing thickly to try and subdue the discomfort, to try and keep it all from view so Inuyasha didn’t have that to add to his list of worries as well, Kagome took in a breath and nodded. “Yes. He’s dead.”

The hanyou let that information sink in, remaining quiet as he now held her hand with the both of his. His thumbs played over the bandaging, calloused skin scratching on the cloth’s surface, but when it skimmed down to her soft flesh, he felt a small sense of peace spread over him. So, he kept up that action, over and over rubbing his thumbs across her knuckles and toward the uncovered skin, then back. She took care of herself, just like she’d proved she could. Just like he knew she could. He would have felt better ripping that fucker to shreds, though. He’d said it before and he’ll say it as many times as necessary: no one touches Kagome.

Still, he was extremely proud of her. She held her own and then appeared in the nick of time to help his ass out. What a fucking woman.

“In that case, you look pretty good for someone who went toe-to-toe with a demon.” He lightly chuckled.

“Thank you.” She playfully grinned, raising her shoulders in feigned smugness. “I had to show him who was boss.”

“Honestly, I’m starting to think you could actually kick my ass.”

“Nah, that guy was just cocky and talked too much. I used all of that against him, pinned him down, and punched him in the face.”

“You punched him in the face?” He laughed, regretting it but that time he was able to properly hide his discomfort.

“Yes!” Kagome tightened the fingers he held. “He had sharp teeth, so it cut my knuckle, that jerk. But, I still got him.”

She was fucking cute as all hell as she raised her left arm and flexed her bicep, the slit in the long sleeves opening to fall away so he could see the definition. It brought the biggest smile to Inuyasha’s face. She really was okay. She was perfect.

“So, I take it you saw?” Inuyasha had to ask, his grin dwindling to a small, careful one. He found himself needing to know what was going through her mind. Why was she so anxious? Sure, it was unpleasant to be separated while he was wounded; he could see himself physically throwing people off of him that tried to keep him away from her had their positions been swapped. But, he remembered the way she looked when she came in last night. He vividly remembered her visible fear, the frown, but worst of all, there was a vague remembrance of her expression this morning. When Wakana woke them up and Kagome noticed his stomach. The way she’d stopped breathing and looked damn close to panicking. Of course, she’d seen the extent of his damage. He’d hoped she hadn’t seen it uncovered. But, had she seen it take place? “Moryomaru, when he… Did you?”

Her own smile faded then, and after a deep breath, she scooted herself a little closer to his torso, careful of how she leaned on his hip. She took one of his hands then, placing it in her lap as she busied herself, running her fingers over the lines of his palm. Brown eyes could no longer meet amber, instead staring down at the trail she left over his skin. It had been impossible to get that image out of her mind. Kagome knew it was something that, much like Shinosuke had mentioned, would stick with her forever. The only reason it wasn’t crippling her was because she knew Inuyasha was alive, and his condition was only improving.

“Yeah,” She breathed. “I saw.”

“Ah, fuck.” Inuyasha groaned. “I was really fucking hoping you hadn’t since you were busy fighting someone.”

“Our fight ended just before.”

“Kid, I’m sorry.”

“What?” Her gaze shot up to his, her upper lip curled in question. “For what?”

“If I had seen that happen to you, I would have lost my mind. I can only imagine what you felt watching that. I didn’t mean to make you worry. Fuck, that’s why you haven’t been eating, isn’t it?”

She softened, allowing her fingers to trail over the veins of his forearm for a moment. When her nail gently skimmed the thin skin of his inner elbow, she noticed a small twitch from him. A tickle spot.

“No, that’s not it.” Kagome admitted, the corners of her lips very subtly raising. “Well, I guess it’s a contribution, but really it’s because I miss you. I should be right next to you so I know you’re okay every second of the day, but I can’t be and I don’t like that. I don’t feel content not hearing you call me an idiot or kid or something mean because you’re unconscious, and not being able to help in any way doesn’t sit right with me. But, I also understand that they’re right to pull me away. You need to rest. And, you wouldn’t with me here.”

She was breaking him. He could feel any remaining borders between them beginning to shatter like glass with each statement she spoke. Her sincerity was his welcomed demise. The power Kagome had over him with her honesty was so much more incredible than Inuyasha could have ever imagined, and his heart climbed into his throat. How did she say that all so easily? How did she brighten even the worst of his days? She missed him.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he caught the sound of walking approaching. Inuyasha outwardly cursed, knowing that it was Wakana coming to force his next dose down his throat and Kagome’s temporary guard coming to take her away. With the remaining seconds he had, he looked back to the conjurer, bringing her right hand to his lips as he kissed her damaged knuckle just before releasing her.

“Sneak back over tonight.”

Kagome’s heart gave a heavy thump inside of her ribcage, damn near bruising the bones in its excitement. With a nervous agreement, Kagome nodded, trying to keep composure as even she caught the footsteps and comprehended his reaction.

The door slid open and in walked Wakana, the housemaid Kagome had threatened the day before, and Shinosuke with his notorious smirk. The housemaid remained by the wall, visibly uncomfortable as she refused to make eye contact with either she or Inuyasha. With a grimace, Kagome’s attention flew over to her companion, silently communicating with an awkward but amused expression that she knew exactly what the girl’s stiffness was about.

Inuyasha read her well. He’d remembered her mentioning she’d almost fought someone to stay with him, and given the housemaids opposition to near either, and Kagome’s humored but ashamed smile, along with the way her eyes flickered between the woman and he, he put two-and-two together. With as much effort he could muster, he tried - really tried - to fight back his laughter. For the sake of the housemaid’s dignity, Kagome’s embarrassment, and his sore abdomen. Still, a small snort left his nose, and he ducked his head to the side to try and further stifle it.

“Matsu, would you mind brewing the tea? Remember, three dashes this time.” Wakana spoke, putting her aid to work. The woman gave a feeble nod, immediately doing as requested but still keeping her head low.

“That woman’s fine whenever you’re not around.” Inuyasha whispered to Kagome, giving a small tug to a section of her free length of hair. Another amused but embarrassed grimace came from her in response as she covered her grin with her hand so that Matsu wouldn’t see how funny this was to her. “You fucking troublemaker.”

“Ready to go?” Shinosuke asked from the doorway.

Kagome peered at him from over her shoulder, curling her upper lip in disdain before turning back to Inuyasha.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Wait.” He ordered quietly just as she began to stand, wagging his finger so she’d lean in closer. As she did, her brows arched in curiosity, he asked, “This guy, is he trustworthy? Do you feel safe with him?”

“Well, he skillfully protected me from a ten year old so far, so he’s not half bad.”

“Seriously, Kagome.” He deadpanned.

“Um, I’m - I’m not lying.” She liked that Inuyasha couldn’t help but crack half a smile there as he rolled his eyes. “He’s attentive, and pretty cool. Likes to joke around, but I can tell he’s serious about his duties. Follows me everywhere -“

“Has he touched you?”

“Yeah, but only appropriately. Unless he’s being a jerk and carrying me out of the room over his shoulder.”

“Like I’m about to.” Shinosuke commented with a chuckle, strutting forward. “You know, you two don’t whisper as quietly as you think you do.”

Inuyasha leveled a glare at the guard as he kneeled right beside Kagome, looking him once over.

“What’s up?” He asked, smiling, unfazed by the clearly unwelcoming attitude the hanyou presented. “Ah, I get it. You don’t know me, so you don’t know if you can trust me with Kagome here. Alright, what would you like to know? Name’s Shinosuke, I’m twenty-four, used to be a chubby kid, favorite color’s red, I like long walks on the beach -“

“Knock it off.” Inuyasha drawled. “You’re not making me like you.”

“Not trying to. That’s not in my pay grade.”

“Shinosuke!” Wakana warned, approaching. “Inuyasha, I’m sorry. He’s got awful people skills, but he is in charge of our guards. With everything you two did for our people, and with how protective papa noticed you were of Kagome, he felt it would give you peace of mind to know our very best was watching over her.”

“Just leave her with me. She’ll be fine. She doesn’t want to go, anyway.”

“And, what’s to happen to her while you’re in your medicinally-induced coma?” Shinosuke challenged, that smug grin never fading.

“Kagome can take care of herself.”

“So, you’d rather she be left alone to worry about you. Alright. Makes my life easier.” He shrugged, rising to a stand.

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” Inuyasha ground out through clenched teeth. He turned to Wakana. “I don’t like the mind games he plays.”

Wakana quickly used the back of her hand to slap Shinosuke’s arm, silently reprimanding him with her scowl. The guard winced, grimacing but still laughing.

“What? I got through to him.”

“Just take her.” Inuyasha rolled his eyes pridefully, giving Kagome’s thigh one last stroke of his palm.

“You heard the man. Come on, tiny might.” Shinosuke boasted, reaching to grab the back of Kagome’s dress and lift her up.

“That name again?” She complained, following his leverage and quickly standing.

“By the way, you don’t have to worry about me touching her inappropriately.” He said down to Inuyasha as the half demon ground his jaw uncomfortably. “Not that kind of guy, and I’m pretty sure your girl here would twist my pinky off. Not to mention,” He gestured to Wakana. “Fiancee.”

It took a small moment, but after watching Wakana nod in reassurance, Inuyasha found himself relaxing slightly. He still wasn’t a fan of the fact that someone else was looking over Kagome, but it surprisingly eased him a lot to know that there was no physical or romantic attraction taking place. Especially while Kagome looked as she did now. Inuyasha found his shoulders dropping an inch, his frown lessening, and a nod of acknowledgment coming forward.

Without another word, Shinosuke grabbed Kagome’s shoulders and guided her toward the door, stopping after just a few steps to make her face the incoming housemaid that carried the brewed tea over.

“See, Matsu. She’s harmless.”

The woman tensed considerably and ducked her head, eyes landing on the floor while her hands wrapped around the tray even tighter. Kagome was taken aback by the woman’s trepidation, her jaw dropping as she couldn’t help but look back over at Inuyasha. Never in her life had she caused a single person to fear her as much as this woman currently did. Not even her younger brother took her this seriously.

“She’s harmless!” Shinosuke urged, laughing. Even he was surprised by the housemaid’s reaction.

“She - uh - she killed Moryomaru, sir.” Matsu softly said as a way to prove Kagome was, in fact, not harmless.

“You know what, I’ll give it to you. You’ve got me there.” The guard bobbed his head. “You seem fine around Inuyasha, though.”

Matsu didn’t say anything. She merely stood there, eyes on the tray of herbal tea as she bounced from foot-to-foot.

“You - you realize he’s half demon, don’t you?”

“I am aware, sir.” She answered.

“Kagome, you damn ruffian.” Shinosuke snickered, shoving her toward the exit and away from the apprehensive housemaid. “You’re seriously gonna tell me the nickname’s still undeserved?”

“I’m sorry!” She guffawed, stumbling, once more looking back at Inuyasha as she laughed. The hanyou merely watched her exasperatedly, his large hand swiping down his face as he silently communicated his dumbfounded nature.

“You scarred the poor girl!” Shinosuke jokingly harassed, pushing her out the door.

Just before she disappeared, she shared one last, bright smile with Inuyasha, waving goodbye to him with the promise to see him soon.

| previous chapter | <- -> | next chapter |

[alaffy]

House of the Dragon, Ep.1x10 - The Black Queen (Spoilers)

As episode 9 followed one side of the upcoming war, it’s no surprise that episode 10 followed the other.  And, like the last episode, the writers take a small amount of plot and turn it into something huge.

The episode begins with Luc once again bemoaning his fate as the heir to Driftwood.  And if, by the end of this scene, you didn’t have some idea this kid was fucked....

Anyway, Rhaenys comes and tells Rhaenyra that Viserys is dead and that the Hightowers have already crowned Ageon in front of the people of Kings Landing.  On thing I appreciate here (because shows don’t normally do this), is that they take the time to explain Rhaenys’ lack of action in the last episode.  And she has a point.  Rhaenys could have killed the Hightowers in that moment, but then what?  How would that convince the people of the Seven Kingdoms that Rhaenyra is worthy of the crown.  No, if Rhaenyra wants to be Queen, she has to be the one who fights.  

However, there is more to this.  It’s very clear that Rhaenys is testing Rhaenyra; seeing what she does in order to decide if Driftwood would give Rhaenyra support or if they would just stay out of the war.  And Rhaenyra does impress her.  First, though, Rhaenyra has to deal with a more personal, and tragic, ordeal.  The stress of everything has caused Rhaenyra to go into labor early and, unfortunately, the child is stillborn (Rhaenyra also delivers her own child and then prepares its body for the funeral which...I get it’s an indication of her strength but....).  

At the funeral of the child,  Erryk Cargyll brings Rhaenyra her fathers crown and places it on her head.  The people at the funeral bow to her and so the plotting begins.  The major problem is that there’s a shortage of man power.  There are some house that will not break their oath to support Rhaenyra as Queen; but the rest are with Hightower or are questionable.  But the plotting goes no further as Otto Hightower arrives to give terms to Rhaenyra.  Rhaenyra, at first, makes it clear where those terms can be shoved; but Otto gives Rhaenyra a message from Alicent.  It’s the pages that were torn out of the book so long ago.  Rhaenyra tells them that she’ll give them her answer the next day.

So, three big things happen at this point.  One, Corlys is expected to survive and is coming to Dragonstone.  Two, Rhaenyra makes it clear that her first duty is to protect the realm.  If she cannot find a way to become Queen without the mass slaughter of innocents, then she would rather give up the crown.  This does not make Daemon...happy.  Rhaenyra clears the room and talks with Daemon, brining up the prophecy.  And this is the third major point, Daemon doesn’t want to hear what he considers fantasies and tells Rhaenyra so, after grabbing her by the throat (which, after the war, perhaps he needs to meet with an accident).  But Rhaenyra realizes that the reason why he thinks it’s a story is because Viserys never told Daemon.  More to the point, if the prophecy is always passed down from the King to his heir and Viserys never mentioned it to Daemon, then it must mean that Daemon was heir in name only; that Viserys only named his brother as successor to calm the realm, but he had no intention of actually letting his brother take the throne.  Otherwise, when it seemed unlikely that Viserys would have a son, wouldn’t he have told Daemon?

Anyway, the night passes and we cut to Corlys waking up with Rhaenys sitting by his side.  Rhaenys tells Corlys that his brother has died and why his brother died.  Not surprisingly, Corlys kinds of gets over the death fairly quickly.  However, Corlys has decided enough is enough and that he and Rhaenys should just retire to Driftwood and let everything play out.  But Rhaenys disagrees.  As she explains to Corlys, here everyone is chomping at the bit to start a war....except for Rhaenyra as she is concerned for the realm.  In other words, Rhaenys believes that Rhaenyra is the right ruler for the realm.  

Still, when Corlys goes to Rhaenyra and her council, he tests her a bit before declaring allegiance to her.  What’s more, he also offers her a plan that would make it possible to take Kings Landing with...well, it’s a war, innocents are going to die no matter what, but his plan would probably significantly reduce the number of deaths.  Rhaenyra decides she needs to get word to houses Stark, Baratheon, and a third house that escapes me. Rhaenyra believes that Baratheon will have to be reminded of his father’s oath to support Rhaenyra.  Jace suggests that he and Luke deliver the message. Rhaenyra decides that Luke should be the one to go to Baratheon.  Dead man walking.

And just to further press the point that Luke is truly the sacrificial lamb, Rhaenyra makes her sons promise that they will only be messengers and not fight and then says that Luke will be treated like royalty.  So, Luke goes to Baratheon’s and finds that Aemond has already beaten him there.  Baratheon sides with Hightower and Aemond demands Luke cut out one of his eyes (and we find out that Aemond decided to bejewel his own eye socket).  Luke refuses to fight and leaves.  

It is at this moment that Aemond decides to do something so fundamentally stupid that somehow he’s suddenly become the biggest fuck up of all of Allicent’s children.  Aemond chases after Luke on his dragon.  Now, it’s clear he isn’t really intending on doing anything to Luke besides terrorize him.  But the dragons don’t know that.  And Luke’s dragon (Arrax), believing them to be in danger, burns Vhagar (Aemond’s dragon).  Both Luke and Aemond try to get their dragons under control; but Vhagar swoops in and rips Arrax to shreds.  Which also means Luke is dead.  And it is very clear by Aemond’s reaction that he realizes that he pretty much has guaranteed that there will be a war.

And, in the final moments of the show, Daemon tells Rhaenyra what has happened (although how would they know what happened as the battle to place high in the sky, above the ocean.  Who would have seen it?).  Still, it’s very clear by Rhaenyra’s look that she’s going to go scorched earth.