#1 Minute Out Riser

[officialrailscales]

Tano Thursday with the 6.75” Virtus

Karve-P | FDE

HTP XOS MLOK Scale | FDE | Honeycomb Texture

HTP XOS-H MLOK Scale | FDE | Honeycomb Texture

QDX Sling Mount | Terra Bronze

MCX SD-Rail Light Mount | Terra Bronze

MCX CSMR Button | Terra Bronze

- RS

[freyito]

ᴅᴇʟʟɪɴɢʀꜝ ⨟ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you wake up next to them.

✧ a/n: for those who have read my works since i first started writing, i made a little masterpost on the mk(1) boys nightly rotuines... i figured id do one for hsr men since my mk hyperfixation died and is buried 6ft under... and i might do one for the hsr men nighttime routines but for now... wakey wakey

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.9k

⎯ Aventurine

Ever the gambler, AVENTURINE even takes a gamble on waking up in the morning. He can set as many alarms as he wants, but he always sleeps in. He finds any excuse to cuddle up next to you and enjoy your warmth for a minute, or even an hour more. He doesn’t mind coming into work late, he always finds a way to slip out of write-ups.

You’ve lost count of how many alarms went off by now, as annoying as it was. Still, despite how important Aventurine was, he’s cuddled up against your back, hands gripping your clothes tightly as if you’d dare to wiggle out of his arms. You could remind him, again and again, that he needs to go, that he has a meeting that day, or a certain deadline, and he’ll just groan and say that his superiors can handle him being gone for another hour or so.

When you do manage to convince him to get up and start the day, he does everything with such reluctance. Forget his rank, forget all of it, he’d much rather spend several more hours in bed with you, even when the sun dips low. He’s slow to put on his uniform, asking you the most mundane of questions, with answers he already knows. He skips out on breakfast at hope, douses himself in that expensive cologne that makes you have to distance yourself until he leaves, and wires you enough money to buy the entire menu from the cafe you mentioned you liked in passing.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

The early bird gets the worm, as they say, and VERITAS is no exception to the saying. Considering work has him busy, he’s thoughtful enough to leave you to sleep, if you are not accustomed to a sleep schedule like his. He tends to wake up early, to give himself enough time to prepare himself for the day. He likes to be thorough, check over his lesson plan for the day, make sure he made no mistakes the day before (although he rarely needs to revise it).

While on the outside, he seems cold and uncaring, on the inside he’s flustering himself with how much he worries about you. He knows he will see you later in the day, when you’ll bring him his lunch, or after his lectures, but some part of leaving just unsettles him. Not that he believes you’d be in danger if you were gone, but more so how you take care of yourself. Of course he knows you’re capable, but some part in him wants to make sure.

So, before he leaves, right when you wake up, he does his best to cook a filling breakfast. Most of the times, Ratio has to put it in some tupperware and save it for later at work, but there are very rare occasions that he gets to enjoy the meal with you. He always makes more– “it was an accident, nothing more,” he’ll say, shaking his head, stoic as ever. But you know it wasn’t– and shovel it onto your plate, it’s his own love language. 

⎯ Boothill

BOOTHILL is an early riser. It’s a habit that was ingrained in him since he was knee high. Granted, he doesn’t need much sleep, and he isn’t around as often as you’d like. He doesn’t stay in one place for long, and he really only swings by your apartment once or twice every month. But that doesn’t mean he’ll sleepover, if only for a night.

Despite the fact that he wakes up even hours before you, he decides to let you sleep. Sometimes he’ll stay in bed as long as you are, soaking in the peaceful sight, one that he’s never afforded himself until you came along. He reaches out ever so tentatively, as if he’ll feel your warm skin underneath his finger tips, but all it earns him is a shudder and your face scrunching. And when you wake up, he’s in such a hurry to pretend he wasn’t watching you sleep, mumbling apologies like he’s disturbed you.

When he’s not watching over you, Boothill enjoys cooking. He might’ve lost his taste and stomach a while ago, but he’s still an excellent chef. For all he can’t eat, he loves cooking. And he believes one of the best ways of waking up is to have a hearty breakfast. While you catch up on your sleep (most likely because he showed up at your apartment late into the night scuffed and bloody(?), acting like nothing happened), he’s making the most heavenly smelling pancakes ever, humming some old country tune to himself. If you dare get up to see what he’s cooking, he shoos you back to bed, tutting and claiming that you’re ruining the surprise, as if he doesn’t do this every time.

⎯ Gallagher

For such a busy man, GALLAGHER tends to sleep a lot. Or perhaps, too little. His schedule is always fluctuating, which means he’s up early and home late. It’s unfair, you think. Most of the time he’ll come home all quiet, settle on a snack, and then sneak into bed, and pull you up close. Half the time he doesn’t even care about his clothes, opting to take off his vest and shirt and throw them on the floor. He’ll worry about the laundry later.

That being said, it’s often a gamble if you’ll see him in the morning or not. He wakes up quite early, and as much as he’d love to spend time with you, cuddle up, and go straight back to sleep, he has to at least look presentable for the next time he’s called in. Most of the time, he accidentally wakes you up when he gets up to shower, but you settle back in quite comfortably. 

Most of the time, he’ll have to leave right after his shower. So he’ll do his best to be quiet as a mouse, sneak in, and press a kiss to your forehead, before starting his day. But on the days he can sleep in, or when he doesn’t have work… he climbs right back into bed. The scent of his body wash rolls over you, in the near-overpowering sandalwood haven it is. He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, pull you impossible closer, and nuzzle into your neck. If you are awake by that time, he urges you to go back to sleep. ‘5 more minutes’, he’ll grumble, and in possibly record speed, he’s out like light. His arm loosens ever so slightly, as he snores away until his thirteenth alarm goes off.

⎯ Sunday

As a stickler for schedules, it’s no surprise that SUNDAY has a strict morning routine. He wakes up at 7 AM system time, 6 AM being too early, and 8 AM being too late. Of course, he encourages you to do the same. You get used to it with time.

He likes to start with a shower, of course. Something intimate with you, yet so normal. He does not mind spending an hour in the shower, but with his station, he cannot. So unfortunately, he has to cut such time short. But he makes sure to soak in every single minute left in the morning with you. A nice breakfast and some tea, as he chats away about his ‘chores’ for the day, what matters he is attending to, whether or not it is a day in the office or out and about. 

Regardless of how busy his day is, Sunday makes sure you know that you are in every waking thought of his. A kiss and a hug at the door, and he’s on his way. You can see some flicker of sorrow as he leaves, as if it is something to grieve over, not being by your side for a minute longer. But alas, to achieve and infinite amount of sundays, he cannot afford to make room in his schedule for more down time. 

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI never ceases to look as heavenly as ever, even in his sleep. However, he has quite a strict schedule he sticks to, something that manifested when his master started training him. He has quite the strict schedule: wake up early, shower, enjoy his breakfast, and start training, unless he has somewhere to be. 

However, he does allow him so rest days, where he sleeps just a little longer, and allows himself more spare time. Very rarely do you catch him asleep when you wake up, and most mornings when he does ‘sleep in’, you often wake up to him gazing down at you. His head propped up by his hand, hair cascading down his shoulders. He could even miss out on several hours of sleep or perhaps even the entire night, and still look angelic. He greets you with a soft smile and a huff, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, as he waits for you to properly wake up.

And once you’re ready to get up, he’s ready to start the day. Anything you do, he's practically following you around like a lost puppy. When you make breakfast, you're either watching over his shoulder, or he is. He never skips out on a chance to dance in the kitchen, making something that was normally a spectacle regulated, and yet, it still feels as intimate as it does the very first time he pulled you into his arms.

⎯Sampo Koski

SAMPO KOSKI needs his beauty sleep. Granted, his sleeping schedule varies based on his business. Sometimes he needs to rob someone blind in the early hours of the morning, or his clients want to meet way past his bedtime. He’ll huff and puff and complain about it, but he always makes time to curl up in your arms like a poor little stray kitten.

When he is finally free of his dreaded work (his path in life that HE chose), he sleeps in quite late. Most of the time, he wants to enjoy the time he has left with you, pout and complain about how hard his job is (again, a career HE CHOSE). He has a lot to say when he (or you) wake up, only because he’s missed talking casually, and most of all, he’s missed you. His jobs and clients have him acting all proper, putting on some other character than he truly is for his clients. While there are some acts he likes… sometimes he just wants to break character and get his clients to buy whatever piece of junk he’s stolen.

Despite all his yapping, he truly enjoys the time he gets with you, even if most of it is him keeping you in bed. He pulls you up close to his chest if you even dare to move, burying his face in the crook of your neck and muttering pathetic little ‘don’t leave’s and the like. When you look down at him he’s just so tired, his eyebags are somehow seven times darker and he’s lost all that luster in his eyes. But you know he’s putting on an act. When you get up, he’ll be crawling to your side in no time.

⎯ Jing Yuan

Ah, the Dozing General. Who better to wake up with? While JING YUAN has to be up early, he doesn’t skip out on any time that could be spent with you. When his first alarm goes off, he’s quick to snooze it, rolling over and throwing his arm over your waist, pulling you closer. He’s used to waking up this early, of course, but he doesn’t like to miss out on those precious 30 minutes where he’s holding you close, uninterrupted. You’re accustomed to this schedule, as well. Wake up; but not really, spend the next moments cuddling, and then start your day.

As the Divine Foresight, he doesn’t get as much leisure time as he’d like, or days off. He could spend all day in bed, really, spoiling himself (as he sees it) to high heavens. But unfortunately, there is work that needs to be done, and he needs to start his day. And (un)fortunately, he quite enjoys dragging you along. A nice walk in the garden before he truly starts the day is a sign of a peaceful day. With you by his side, half-awake or not.

That being said, he does so because he wishes to spend every possible moment he has with you. His station means his workload will be unpredictable, and while he wishes that all days would be mundane, that wish will never come true. So, spending the first thirty minutes to several hours of his morning with you is what he rewards himself with. A nice meal and a good bath sets him in the right mood, being simply a step away at most in the morning. 

⎯ Blade

BLADE doesn’t sleep well in general. Often times he’s woken up at all hours in the night by things he won’t share– “It’s childish.” is what he says, with a huff. Nightmares. It’s nightmares. He doesn’t have much of a reaction to them anymore, aside from grumbling and complaining quietly, which is normal. As much as he tries to go back to sleep, he simply can’t most of the time, opting to do something to keep his mind and hands busy, as sleep deprived as he is.

You tend to be met with his back when you wake up, tense as ever. When he can’t find something to do, he settles on meditation, which does nothing to calm the voices and ‘vengeance’ that addles his mind. It does too little for him, his mind always circling back to what could have been. The minute you shift in bed, he snaps out of it quickly, looking back at you with his unreadable gaze. 

Most of the time, if you ask him to lay down with you, he will, as long as he doesn’t have an assignment he needs to be on. For all his sharp edges, he’s quite… dull when it comes to you. Perhaps it’s the many years he’s faced that’s made him lose his luster, or simply his own undoing. Yet, somehow, when you pull him in close, he relaxes ever so slightly. Perhaps not all the way, but it’d take you a couple more years to break down his walls completely. You could sleep for another three hours and he’d at least get time to close his eyes and let his mind rest; something he desperately needs.

⎯ Luocha

While LUOCHA’s “work” has him up quite early, well into the AMs. Of course, with all the traveling he’s done, his sleep schedule varies, and it’s not like he gets to spend as much time as he’d like with you, but you tag along all the same. He could be awake at 3AM system time and you’d be sound asleep until 10AM, and somehow, he’d still look as handsome as ever. You’re starting to feel a little jealous.

Still, he makes time to greet you in the morning. Aside from being a merchant, he is, of course, a healer, and he wants to make sure you're sleeping right. And, perhaps to catch up, if he has been gone for a few days. After all, not only does physical health matter, but mental, as well. A quick little chat, maybe some tender touches, and a hearty meal that he’s brought from the markets is quite enough mental stimulation, yes?

Sometimes, it seems he disagrees, choosing to crawl in bed alongside you, even if you chose to wake up properly. He’ll play with your hair, whisper sweet nothings to you, or simply just stare and smile. He doesn’t get to be affectionate often, either, and often that need for human touch culminates, which leads to those impromptu cuddling sessions in the morning.

⎯ Jiaoqiu

As a healer, JIAOQIU wants to make sure you (and him) maintain a normal, healthy sleep schedule. Unless he’s on an emergency call, he tends to wake up at a mostly normal time, between 8-10 AM. Of course, he wakes you up with him, wanting to start his day off right with your pretty face.

He wakes you up oh so sweetly for a man with such a scheming smile. His fingers glide over your skin, pushing your hair behind your ear, using such a sweet voice, one so sweet that it makes your teeth ache. And when you're finally properly awake, he’s all too excited to rush off to the kitchen, like a giddy child. 

Of course, what’s a morning without Jiaoqiu without some breakfast? When you return from your shower, the kitchen is alive with his cooking, the sounds of sizzling and smells of spices (what else?) a delightful concoction. What is he cooking? Ji dan bing, a fulfilling breakfast. While you are the only person he cuts down the spice for, the food still has enough kick to make you make a face. Of course, his plate smells so spicy that it makes you recoil, which earns a chuckle from the Foxian.

⎯ Moze

Most of the time, MOZE sneaks into your shared bed by the morning, seeing as most of his work is carried out during the night. By the time he’s settled in bed, it’s around the time you wake up. It’s a peaceful sight, really. You’re so used to him scowling or simply not emoting, that when you wake up to his face, tranquil as ever, it makes your heart flutter.

Of course, that does not last. He is up within the first couple of seconds you stare too long, easily woken by any simple rustling. The feeling of someone’s eyes on him means one thing: danger. And he unfortunately hasn’t shaken that habit. However, he has grown used to the fact that it’s you staring at him in the morning hours, and thankfully you are spared a knife to your throat.

He jolts awake with a disgruntled groan, his eyes darting over your features, taking in as much information as he can in his hazy mind state, as if he hadn’t seen your face a thousand times over. Once he is satisfied with the fact that it’s you, he lays back down with a huff, before pulling you down with him. You may have the day to start, but he would like at least a couple more moments in bed with you, he’s stubborn that way.

⎯ Dan Heng

With his days off, DAN HENG tends to enjoy lounging. If not lounging, then reading, and if not reading, then cleaning. But most of the time, since you came back from the Xianzhou Loufu, he’s been sleeping in an awful lot. You're often the first to wake up, or at least, the first to get out of bed.

Most of the time, you sleep in with him, happy to get a couple extra minutes to a couple hours more of sleep. It’s a nice moment of peace and quiet after the amount of missions you two have been on, while March and the Trailblazer updates you on what’s happening wherever they are. Still, sometimes sleeping in gets kind of boring. So while Dan Heng catches on some much needed sleep (and alone time), you busy yourself with cleaning around the express, helping Pom-Pom with certain tasks, and even doing your best to cook up some breakfast.

When you bring your expert attempt at pancakes back to you and Dan Heng’s room, he perks up. He goes from sulking to practically beaming (or what you can consider beaming, you get a soft smile nonetheless), and digs in eagerly. It seems like enough to energize him for a couple of days, pushing away what had happened on the Loufu to the furthest reaches of his mind.

⎯ Gepard

GEPARD does not get much time in the mornings with you or himself. As captain of the guard, he has to be up early, and on call whenever the need arises. While it is very rare that he is called to dispatch an issue in the middle of the night, he is often reluctant to simply leave you in the morning. Of course, he won’t wake you for his own selfish reasons, he just simply wishes he could get more time to enjoy your presence in the morning.

As quietly as he tries to move, somehow he always wakes you up, or perhaps that's what your sleep cycle has gotten used to. Oftentimes, you wake up when he’s taking his shower, his soft humming rising over the sound of water. You know he only does this when he believes he is alone or heard, and every single time, you can’t help but think of it as cute. But you won’t tell him you heard it.

Most of the time you stay up so you can say goodbye to Gepard and tell him to have a good day, while he stumbles over excuses that he doesn’t need. He’s adorable in all his fluster, before he finally collects himself with a deep breath. He promises he’ll see you at the end of the day, and that he’ll bring some dinner home from one of your favorite restaurants.

⎯ Caelus

What adventure with CAELUS drag you on next? That’s a constant question that haunts your mind every time an adventure is done. The most sleep you get is on the Express, in between missions. In the morning’s, he wakes up with such determination, it’s almost impressive. He could have the worst sleep of his life and he wakes up raring to go.

Of course, he does his best not to wake you if you aren’t up. In fact, he’ll do his best to be as quiet as possible, sneaking out of the room, and even tip-toeing down the cabins. Like any little movement will wake his precious partner up. However, sometimes, when he’s feeling a little clingy, he’ll cuddle back in bed and pull you really close, refusing to let go unless you need to do something.

On the occasion you guys are out on a mission, he is the complete opposite. He could wake up well into the noon and groan and complain about not getting enough sleep, even if he slept like a baby. Of course, he wants to get on with his adventures, but at the same time, the hotel’s bed is soooo comfy, and he doesn’t want to leave. Which, he’ll keep you there too until he’s fully awake, spooning you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

⎯ Welt

On his days off, which seems to be most days now, WELT sleeps in only a little. Mornings with him are nothing short of intimate, simply laying there in each others arms, muttering sweet words. Truth be told, he enjoys these quiet moments, even if they push back the work he has to get done around the Express.

Still, no one's complaining, right? The work he has to get done will get done eventually, and he can spare a couple hours for his beloved. He cherishes every stolen second, as the hours tick away, his fingers trailing over your skin, before cupping your face. Framing his entire world in his palm.

However, you can’t stay in bed forever. Unfortunately, you do have to get up, and start your day. Welt won’t leave your side, though. Not if he can help it, at least. You two share a shower together, some more words, of course, and even cook together afterwards. Pom Pom huffs and puffs about not only Welt, but you being late and taking too long, and how the Express is founded on the structure of the schedule. It’s okay, however, because Pom Pom will be thanking you two for your hard work (sweeping the other cabins, cleaning the windows, and vacuuming the carpet) at the end of the day.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server (16+) | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[ak-vintage]

Stay Right Here

Pairing: Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You never had a problem getting out of bed in the morning until you started sharing one with Joel. A Secret Santa gift for my dear friend Britt @pedroswife69 <3

Word Count: 2.3K

Tags & Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Second-person POV, no use of Y/N, post-season 1/game 1 established relationship, SMUT (groping, fingering, P in V sex, praise, heavy emphasis on Joel’s broad, sexy, manly hands, Joel’s filthy mouth)

Thank you to @shchristine for the beta read and to @pr3ttynpiink for organizing! Shoutout to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Read on AO3 | Main Masterlist

You never had a problem getting out of bed in the morning until you started sharing one with Joel.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve been an early riser. Up before the sun most days, you’re showered, dressed, and fed before the sky can fade from inky black to rose gold to blue. It’s made you a great candidate for the breakfast shift at the dining hall and an eager volunteer in the barns and stables. You’ve become accustomed to tending to sheep and cattle or cracking eggs and frying bacon before most of the rest of Jackson have even blinked themselves awake, and really, it’s been no trouble. That was, of course, until you agreed to gather up your modest possessions and officially move across town.

Into Joel Miller’s house.

Now, as early-morning light filters through the thin curtains of his bedroom – your bedroom – you find yourself tucked snugly against his broad chest, his legs intertwined with yours, and one long, thick arm draped across your waist, keeping you close. He smells like sleep – warm and woodsy and painfully masculine, and though he holds you tightly, he shows no sign of waking. Even in his sleep, he can’t seem to get close enough to you. It would be inconvenient if you didn’t find it so endearing.

You twist in his arms, craning your neck awkwardly in an attempt to spot the little analog alarm clock Joel keeps on his bedside table. When you finally manage it, you balk at the time staring back at you in the dimness. You’re due in the kitchens in less than 30 minutes. If you rush, you’ll make it, but only just.

Your touch is delicate at first, gentle and soft as you try to extricate yourself from his grip without waking him. With a few wiggles and a scooch of your hips, you manage to work your legs free, but by the time you’re reaching for his arm to peel it off you, it has become like a clamp around your midsection, and you are being drawn back into him, back into his warm, bare chest as he grumbles, “Jus’ few more minutes, darlin’.”

With a shake of your head, you sigh, peering up at him through your lashes. His eyes are still closed, his weathered face relaxed, and you feel a pang of fondness tighten in your chest at the sight. He does this to you because he knows you can’t resist him when he’s like this – cozy and sweet and soft, every barrier collapsed and every façade shattered. You’re one of the few who gets to see the true face of Joel Miller, and the privilege is not lost on you.

Still, that does not change the fact that you have never once been late to a shift since arriving in Jackson, and you are not about to sacrifice your perfect record for a few extra minutes of cuddling. Moving quickly, you roll onto your other side and make for the edge of the bed.

But even wrapped in the warm cocoon of sleep, Joel is still faster and stronger than you. You make it only a handful of inches across the mattress before his vicelike grip is back, bracketing around your belly and hauling you – a bit less gently this time – back into his embrace once again. His face ends up buried in your hair, his front molded to the contours of your back, and you feel it along every nerve ending as he rasps, “Quit your squirmin’. M’sleepin’.”

Except Joel isn’t sleeping. Or, at least, there is one particular part of him that appears to be very much awake. You snort softly into your pillow. You should have known.

“Joel,” you hiss, wriggling against his grip. “I’m gonna be late!”

He does not dignify your protests with a response. Or, at least, not a verbal one. Instead, he simply shuffles so he is pressed even tighter against you as his broad-palmed, thick-fingered, heavy hand begins lazily stroking every inch of you he can reach.

He’s unhurried in his perusal of your body – from the dip of your waist to the flare of your hip, from the soft give of your stomach up to the plush fullness of your breasts. His caress is familiar, soothing and inflaming in equal measure, and your muscles melt so readily – eagerly even – under his attentions that it almost steals your breath away.

You are putty in his hands, and he knows it, so when he tucks his fingers under the neckline of your sleepshirt and tugs down the worn material, you make a fatal mistake, and Joel simply grins.

As his hot, dry palm skates over your rapidly-hardening nipples, as his grip swallows the pillowy softness of a breast and massages firmly, you let out the softest, breathiest sigh and arch into his touch. Your ribs surge forward, seeking more of that calloused, work-roughened hand, and in doing so, your hips curl back, and you unintentionally welcome the long, thick, throbbing press of his cock between the globes of your ass.

Joel groans into the back of your neck, the sound tripping down your spine in deep, rasping shivers as he noses your hair out of the way. The second enough skin is exposed, he latches on and drags the warm slickness of his tongue along it, drawing the vulnerable little patch of softness into his mouth and sucking. His rough fingers tighten around your nipple, plucking and teasing as he works your neck, and the sensation has your throat gasping, the arch of your spine deepening.

Low and ragged in your ear, Jackson’s top patrolman chuckles and grinds his hips into your ass. “That’s it, baby. You got a few minutes for this, don’tcha?”

“I – my breakfast shift, I have to – ” Your words are interrupted with a moan, the sound wrenched from your chest as the hand on your breast slips down to the apex of your thighs, pressing firmly and steadily against your mound through your cotton panties. His name is a whimper on the back of another deep, urgent breath, and you grit your teeth against the urge to wind your hips against the friction of his fingers.

“Shhh,” Joel soothes, mouthing at your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair as it catches in the uneven whiskers of his beard. “Just relax, darlin’. The kitchen’ll keep for a bit. Lemme feel you a little.”

In the end, you find that you don’t have the strength to protest any more. His hands are everywhere – tucking under your neck from behind to settle across your throat, slipping into your panties, snaking under your shirt, tangling in your hair. You’re surrounded in him, swaddled in his thick, strong arms, trapped against his front, your body unable to choose between chasing the tease of his fingers against your slippery clit or grinding back against the enticing hardness of his cock.

He doesn’t let you choose, though. Instead, he strokes and plays and torments until you are ready to beg for mercy, and then he flips you onto your back and clambers on top of you. All finesse is gone as he shoves his pajama pants just far enough down to pull himself out, as he reaches down to tug the soaked gusset of your panties to the side, as he drags his soft, plush cockhead through your wetness. You can feel his desperation in the tension of his muscles, can see it in the deep frown tugging at his brow, can hear it in the curled-lip, gritted-teeth groan as he notches himself at your quivering entrance. It takes your breath away, makes you shudder and gasp as you stretch around the tip of him.

All the countless times you’ve taken him, and you’re not sure you will ever get used to that first breach of your body, that first trembling submission to the heft of him.

He fills you in one slow, inexorable thrust, and when your dripping pussy has swallowed every inch of him, when he finally seats his pubic bone against yours, firm and inescapable, he threads his fingers with yours and pins both of your hands above your head.

You can’t remember why you protested anymore, why you ever attempted to keep him at bay. He has driven every other thought from your mind and replaced it with himself. There is simply nothing else that matters.

He keeps you there as he takes you apart – thighs spread achingly wide, knees hitched up at his sides to take him deeper, ankles locked behind his back to keep him from retreating too far. Mouth on your neck, tongue on your tits. Teeth scraping across your jaw, tugging on your earlobe, sinking into the flesh cushioning your collarbone. Big, thick, rugged hands gripping yours, driving the backs of your fingers into the mattress. You are entirely at his mercy, and it makes your cunt drool for him.

“There ya go, baby, I know. Can feel how bad you need it,” Joel growls, making you shiver. “Gonna give you what you need. Just gotta take it.”

When he can feel that you are on the ragged edge of your climax, so close to soaring right over that edge you can almost taste it, he gathers both of your wrists in one hand and drops the other to your gaping, whining mouth. His thumb – huge, tasting of salt and musk and man – sinks between your lips and presses down on your tongue, and when you come, your cries are muffled in the suction of your mouth around the intrusion.

“There she is.” His words are syrupy-slow and sweet in your ear as you clench down around him, as you writhe and whimper as he fucks you through it. “That’s my good girl.”

Somehow, Joel manages to hold out for his own pleasure until you’ve come down from your high, until you’ve returned to your body and to the present moment. You are just lucid enough to watch him as he rears up on his haunches, withdraws his dripping cock from the clutch of your body, and uses one of those broad, heavy hands to jerk himself off over your belly. Your eyes can’t look away as he strokes himself, quick and firm, your gaze heavy-lidded and hungry as you watch.

“Come on,” you whisper. The words leave your mouth thoughtlessly, eyes glued to his flushed, angry cock as the tip weeps glistening pearls of precum. Fuck, he’s so breathtaking like this. “Come for me, Joel. Come all over me.”

It doesn’t take long with your encouragement. When he falls, it is with a ragged groan and a curse. You watch as thick, white ropes paint his scarred knuckles, and you can hardly stand to wait for him to stop before pulling that hand from his cock and dragging it to your waiting mouth. You clean his fingers with an eager tongue, lapping every drop from his skin as he catches his breath.

It isn’t until he collapses back onto the bed next to you, winded and sweating, that you happen to catch a glimpse of your bedside clock out of the corner of your eye. The sight is like a bucket of ice water in your veins.

“Shit,” you groan, rolling over to bury your face into your pillow in denial.

“S’matter?”

Your words come out muffled, smothered against the pillow as you hide from the accusing glare of the clockface. “I’m fucking late.”

Joel snorts a laugh. “Ah, well. Not the end of the world, darlin’.”

“I’m never late, Joel!”

You feel the mattress shift behind you as he rolls up onto his side, then the warm, heavy weight of his palm between your shoulder blades as he rubs your back comfortingly. “All the more reason why one time won’t hurt anything. Ain’t no reason you gotta be up at the ass-crack of dawn every damn day. Now…” He lands a quick swat to your butt, aiming for the bit of bare cheek left exposed by your twisted, dripping panties. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower, and I’ll make you a cuppa coffee for the road. How’s that sound?”

At first, you say nothing, keeping your face pressed into the pillowcase and your eyes hidden from him. What you really want is to stay irritated. You want to hold onto your annoyance at the ease with which he distracts you, the speed with which your mind and body succumb to his advances. But at this point in your relationship, you know better than to try. Joel has a frustratingly boyish charm to him when he wants to, can be playful and impish when the mood strikes. And when he lets himself loosen up.

Today? With unplanned morning sex under his belt when the sun has barely risen? The man is downright giddy in this moment, and you know the second you see his face, any bitterness you may be attempting to cling onto will dissolve like sugar on your tongue, and you will be left with nothing but affection (and an absolutely spine-melting orgasm) in spite of your ruined schedule.

“Darlin’?” he murmurs, that soft, warm touch returning to your back. “You really mad at me?”

Releasing a sigh, you roll to face him, let him see the wry smile you can’t suppress as you take in his dark, earnest eyes. “No, Joel, I’m not mad. But – ” You jab a finger into his bare chest, the pointy blow landing right on his breastbone. “ – I want the good coffee. Not that instant crap. If I’m gonna be this late anyway, I can wait for the pour-over to brew.”

Joel’s weathered face splits into a grin, the crinkles around his eyes deepening as huffs a laugh. He chuffs you gently under your chin with the side of his knuckles, those beautiful hands ready to have you melting all over again, and you can already feel it – the warmth of it settling in your chest, softening your heart.

“Got yourself a deal.”

[zkg2318]

Corporate Life pt 3

genre/tags ✶ MDNI office!au, sunghoon x afab!reader x heeseung, smut, cursing, not proofread, polyamory (surprise)

synopsis ✶ working in corporate was supposed to be boring, not a guessing game of whether your two coworkers were eye fucking you or not.

smut warnings ✶ unprotected penetrative sex (no!), spitting, thigh riding, oral male!receiving, msm (frottage, oral, kissing), double penetration, overstimulation, use of pet names, squirting, ass slapping, threesome

corporate life taglist/ppl that wanted pt3: @17ericas, @hyuukas, @jakeslvt, @heesimp, @hooniedips, @yuniesluv, @yvnempire, @anoranorastar

permanent taglist: @kittys00, @ikaw-at-ikaw

read part 1 here | read part 2 here

A/N sorry for reposting, i think tumblr may have messed up the tags

Waking up was always a challenge for Heeseung, preferring to sleep in rather than wake up at 5:45 a.m. for work. He was, inherently, not a morning person based on the way he fought with Sunghoon every morning before going to work, begging for just five more minutes. Luckily, it was the start of a long weekend, which meant Heeseung could sleep in till nine if he wanted, ten if he was feeling lucky. But Sunghoon was an early riser and often dragged him out of bed by 8:30 a.m., something about enjoying the morning rays together. On a rare occasion like today though, the two men were together in bed with their limbs entangled beneath the comforter. “Heeseung,” Sunghoon mutters, pressing his face into Heeseung’s naked chest.

“What is it, baby?” he hums, threading his long fingers through his boyfriend’s black hair.

“We have to clock in some overtime this weekend.”

Upon hearing the words ‘overtime,’ Heeseung pops upright immediately, a sour expression appearing on his face at the mere mention of work slipping from Sunghoon’s mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, we’ve been a bit distracted at work. You know, with a certain someone.” He mutters, nuzzling into Heeseung’s lap now.

That much was true- they were distracted. Heeseung and Sunghoon weren’t exactly non-monogamous; but the idea of adding another person into their relationship never really crossed their minds, until you showed up. The second you joined their team at work a few months ago, there was a mutual attraction between the boys that neither of them could ignore.

At first, it was casual. They agreed to approach you with the sole intention of having a no-strings attached sexual relationship with you. It wasn’t supposed to go beyond that- just fuck and work. After the second hookup, Sunghoon and Heeseung revealed to you that they were dating and let you know that they wanted to keep things with you purely physical- even if they secretly wanted something more, but neither of them would admit it in fear of ruining things. That was fine with you- the stress of your job was already building up and you needed a quick fix.

But as the months went by, the lines between casual and something more began to blur. Your impulsive, adrenaline induced hookups were beginning to feel more than that. You found yourselves sharing inside jokes and personal secrets over post-sex meals- conversations you wouldn’t be sharing with fuck buddies. But despite that growing connection, none of you pushed for anything more. Whether it was in fear of complicating things or just wanting to keep emotions out of it, the status quo remained.

Your friendship between Sunghoon and Heeseung remained completely separate from your sexual relationship while your budding romance stayed buried under six feet of dirt.

“I didn’t think we were that behind, what’s a little fucking got to do with our work?” Heeseung jokes, stroking Sunghoon’s cheek while ignoring the aching alarm bells ringing in his head.

“We’re behind on our financial report, Namjoon sent an email saying we have to get it in to him on Monday evening.” Heeseung groans at the idea of working over the long weekend, but Sunghoon continues, “And Y/n was cc’d on the email.”

A mix of amusement and stress stirs onto Heeseung’s face, and he tugs on the back of Sunghoon’s shirt, signalling for him to sit up. “I guess we’ll have to invite her over, work on that report all together.” Sunghoon’s lips curl into a smirk as he places a lazy kiss on Heeseung’s mouth.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Heeseung roughly pulls Sunghoon onto him, falling back into bed. With a tug, Sunghoon’s briefs are pulled down and he’s settled onto Heeseung’s lap. “Use me, I’m all yours.” He mutters, peppering kisses across Sunghoon’s neck.

Grinding down into Heeseung’s lap, Sunghoon lowers his head to attach his lips to Heeseung’s neck, sucking around his pulse point. When his tongue flicks over the sensitive skin just below his ear, Heeseung lets out a loud groan and bucks up into Sunghoon, his growing erection rubbing into his boyfriend. “Fuck, you know I’m sensitive there,” he purrs into his ear, licking against the lobe.

“Hyung, I need you,” Sunghoon whispers, swiveling his hips in Heeseung’s lap.

With his hands gripping Sunghoon’s thighs, Heeseung draws a steady breath in through his teeth, ���Tell me how you want me,”

“In my mouth.”

Without wasting any time, Heeseung flips them over and presses Sunghoon into the plushness of their mattress. With a few quick pecks to the lips, Heeseung strips out of his sweats, leaving him bare and half-hard in front of Sunghoon. “Bet you wish Y/n was here to keep your fucking mouth busy while I suck you off, hm?” he says, lowering himself to the bulge that was presenting itself so perfectly to Heeseung. His hand ghosts over the imprint of Sunghoon’s cock, the heat of his arousal radiating against his palm.

Sunghoon stifles a moan before squirming beneath Heeseung, “Don’t say stuff like that-”

“Not so confident now that Y/n isn’t here to play dumb under you, Hoonie?” Heeseung teases his boyfriend as he toys with his cock, but there’s no heat behind his words. Laughing quietly, he presses open mouthed kisses against his briefs, earning a breathy moan from Sunghoon.

“S-shut up,” he gasps, grinding up into his face.

Heeseung only smiles against Sunghoon’s cock which was straining beneath him, letting his tongue flick out against the fabric, “It was your idea to approach her in the first place, I’m just fulfilling your fantasies since she isn’t here right now.”

“Stop bringing her up,” he whines, pulling his briefs down himself until his cock springs free, “She’s not dating us, so just keep her out of his.” His words are desperate now as he pushes Heeseung’s face against his pelvis, keeping it to himself as he totally imagines you rubbing against him.

Heeseung knows Sunghoon better than he would ever admit, and he can tell from how he acts around you just how much his boyfriend likes you- far more than Sunghoon would ever let on. And it’d be a lie to say Heeseung didn’t feel the same, so he leans into the teasing knowing Sunghoon was secretly thriving on the idea of you being here with them again. “Cut the act, I know you want Y/n here sitting on your face so you can eat her out, maybe shut you up for a bit.”

Finally, he takes him into his mouth, first dragging his tongue up the shaft and feeling the length of Sunghoon’s vein reach the tip. While his mouth moves up and down Sunghoon’s cock in a rhythmic motion, Heeseung lets his hand travel underneath Sunghoon’s shirt, finding his nipples. A moan escapes from Sunghoon’s lips once Heeseung starts to rub his nipples with the back of his fingers, “Heeseung-” he whines, cock twitching upwards in his boyfriend's mouth.

While Heeseung plays with Sunghoon’s cock in his mouth, he rubs himself into the bed, slowly grinding into it as he imagines it’s your ass underneath him. He shamelessly pictures you moaning below him, begging him to just stick it in and stop teasing you. Memories of your slicked up folds flash across his mind and he groans around Sunghoon’s cock, a chain reaction that sends Sunghoon into a fit of moans himself. Heeseung goes ahead and starts to flick Sunghoon’s nipples, looking up at his boyfriend as he swirls his tongue around the shaft.

Under the control of Heeseung, Sunghoon fights the urge to fuck up into his throat, but heeseung the all-observing boyfriend seems to notice his turmoil, “Fuck my throat baby, give it to me.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice, bumping his hips into Heeseung’s face quickly and relishing in the way the tip of his cock rubs the back of Heeseung’s tight throat. The sudden change in pace has Heeseung gagging, forcing him to focus more on keeping his throat open and his breath steady than decorating his boyfriend’s cock with his tongue.

With Sunghoon’s cock filling his mouth, Heeseung’s mind wanders to the thought of you crying out while he thrusts into your quivering heat, clenching his dick like a vice while Sunghoon’s gaze fixed on every thrust. Heeseung had always known Sunghoon had a thing for watching; it was part of the reason why he had been given the green light to fuck you first. But you didn’t need to know that.

“Mmph, fuck-” Sunghoon cries, holding Heeseung’s wrists as they play at his nipples, the added stimulation bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Relax your throat, Seungie- fuck, that’s it.”

When Sunghoon’s pace begins to fall off, Heeseung moves his hands back down to rest on his pelvis, pushing him down into the bed so he can control them now. He continues his assault on his boyfriend’s dick, going at it for a minute more before pulling off, moving to use his hands instead of his mouth now to finish him off. Sunghoon grips at the bedsheets like a vice, clutching them like his life depends on it as he thrusts into Heeseung’s hand, the saliva from his mouth acting as the perfect amount of lube.

Heeseung adjusts his position so that he can hold both his and Sunghoon’s cock together, spitting into his hand to share the lube-like saliva between the both of them. “Fuck, imagine Y/n was sitting here, bouncing up and down our cocks at the same time. Stretching her out so fucking good, hm?” Heeseung pants, finding himself close to the edge as he pumps their shafts quickly.

“I’m cumming, fuck!”

Heeseung tightens his grip slightly, right as the slit on Sunghoon’s dick opens to release streams of cum. The first few are strong, reaching as far as his blissed out face. The following spurts of arousal are less strong, some hitting his chest and the rest hitting his stomach, eventually slowing down to a slow dribble leaking out of his tip.

Heeseung follows just a second after, his own stream of cum leaking out at a less intense volume, shooting straight up. The two of them pant in tandem together, catching their breaths as their cum falls down the divots of their bodies and onto their sheets.

“Thank God it’s laundry day.” Sunghoon says finally, moving around Heeseung.

Heeseung gets off to help Sunghoon, throwing their pillows off and ripping the top corners of the bedsheet off while Sunghoon does the bottom. The two men work together in a comfortable silence, a rhythm they’ve fine tuned after years of being together. “When should we contact Y/n?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.

Sunghoon tenses, but it’s barely noticeable as Heeseung takes the hamper from his hands. “Maybe tomorrow?” he says, letting Heeseung take the laundry, “We can meet her at the cafe near our place.”

Heeseung shakes his head, hiking the hamper up on his hip, “I think it’s best we invite her here. The documents are kind of sensitive, best we don’t bring them to a place we could lose them.” Sunghoon doesn’t get the chance to offer a second opinion, watching his boyfriend's back disappear around the corner.

Sunghoon stays rooted in his spot, standing in the middle of the bedroom of their shared apartment they moved into at the beginning of the year. A part of him was torn, wondering if they were taking things too far by bringing you into their sex life when you weren’t even there. It was one thing to keep this friends with benefits facade up at work, but to think about you outside of that relationship, outside of work without your knowledge- had they crossed an invisible line?

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For the rest of the day, Sunghoon mopes around the apartment, his usual warm self dulled by the weight of his guilty conscience. Heeseung had tried to pull him out of it, making silly animal origami out of the freshly laundered towels, or sneaking kisses in while they were cooking, but Sunghoon’s responses remained colorless. “Is everything alright?” Heeseung finally asks, settling onto the couch as they prepare to watch a movie, a night time ritual they have on the weekend.

Sunghoon hesitates, “Do you think we should call things off with Y/n?”

Heeseung sets aside the popcorn that was sitting in his lap, the large blue bowl clashing with the muted decor they had chosen together at Ikea. “What makes you think that?” His hand rises to cradle Sunghoon’s cheeks, his thumb gently rubbing at the soft plushness.

“We’re in love with her,” he says, like dropping a bomb, “Right?”

Heeseung’s thumb stops moving, and he thinks his heart skips a beat. Sunghoon wasn’t wrong, but he truly thought that they were just going to remain blissfully unaware of that fact, for the sake of their job- and their relationship. “I- Sunghoon, I don’t-”

“It’s ok, I think I’m in love with her too,” Sunghoon clarifies, capturing Heeseung’s hand with his, “I don’t think we respected our own boundaries with Y/n. We let ourselves get too close, and now we’re breaking the easiest rule of the game.” He sighs, running his free hand through his hair as he thinks, “I think it’s best we call this off. Y/n didn’t sign up for two men pining after her, and if we keep this going, we’ll just ruin what we have.”

Heeseung leans forward to press a kiss to Sunghoon’s cheek, “Ok,” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’m fine with that. But I do want to ask- are you telling me you wanted to date her? Like, add her to this relationship?”

“I don’t know, and honestly we’ve never really discussed this. I trust you with my life, Heeseung. But it’s clear the both of us felt something for Y/n, which is why I felt comfortable enough to let my feelings for her grow. I think in an ideal world, where we got to know Y/n instead of hooking up with her through work, I would’ve liked to discuss polyamory with you.”

Heeseung’s lips crack into a smile, “God, I love you.” he says, pulling Sunghoon in for a hug, “You always know what to say, I just hope Y/n understands what we mean.”

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Like the boys had agreed, they invite you over to their apartment the following evening to work on the financial report. They insisted things would be casual- just some takeout and a table full of documents is what Heeseung had said to you over the phone. You were hesitant though, the idea of dinner at their place felt strangely intimate, sharing a meal with a couple in their own home felt like an intrusion you weren’t ready to risk.

You find yourself pacing in front of their building, clutching at the end of your jacket for a moment longer than necessary. You debate whether or not to text them, to tell them that something urgent had come up- but your body was moving faster than your mind, pressing the buzzer before you could follow through. It’s Heeseung that responds, his cheerful voice crackling through the speaker as he recites the code for the door.

32 floors is how long you have until you face them, and you spend the entire time fidgeting with the hem of your blouse, the tension mounting with each passing second. Elevators were such an awkward place for you now, considering your history with them; only amplifying your anxiety as memories of being pressed up against Sunghoon resurface. By the time you’re knocking on their door, you’re about to turn on your heel, second-guessing everything you’ve done until the door clicks open.

Sunghoon is the one that opens the door, an easy smile on his face that has you temporarily relaxing your shoulders, “Hey, glad you made it,” he says, stepping to the side to let you in.

You notice the way he’s dressed immediately- an oversized t-shirt displaying a band you don’t recognize and wide-legged sweats, a far cry from the usual sharp suits he sported at the office. You look down at your own outfit, a short fleece jacket zipped over your pink blouse and a pair of wide-legged slacks, nothing special but formal enough to pass in. Still, standing before Sunghoon while inside of his humble apartment, you suddenly felt overdressed.

Slipping in to enter, the first thing you notice is the scent- the faintest hint of lavender laundry detergent that discreetly smelt like Sunghoon whenever he pressed up against you too much in the office. Their apartment was also surprisingly neat; its muted tones accented by pops of their personality- colorful figurines on their shelves, a keyboard in the corner, some figure skates near the closet, etc…

Sunghoon points at a pair of house slippers for you to slip into, holding his arm out for you to hold onto as you kick your shoes off. “Thanks,” you say quietly, stepping into the slippers and following after him. He briefly gives you a tour of their place, showing you the dining room, then the kitchen, where the bathroom is, and then ultimately the living room.

The coffee table centered in front of their two couches was already set up, half of it full of takeout boxes and plastic bags and the other half neatly organized with folders and stacks of paper. Heeseung is already sitting, his legs tucked under the table while leaning against the base of the couch. When he sees you and Sunghoon enter, he brings a hand up to wave at you before patting the space beside him. “I hope Chinese is okay, Sunghoon forgot to hit the order earlier so this was the only place that would deliver in time before you got here.”

“Chinese is perfect, thanks,” you reply with a soft laugh, placing your bag down beside you as you sit next to him.

With Sunghoon sitting across from you, dinner passes quickly. Small talk is shared between the three of you over some noodles and several side dishes you can’t remember the names of. The conversation feels uncomfortably familiar- office gossip and discussion of your weekend plans being a routine banter you shared with them in the break room, and disconcertingly immediately after hooking up as well, like it was second nature.

It unsettles you how natural it feels, the camaraderie that forms so easily between you three. All the laughter and shared touches pulling you in deeper before you even realize. It almost felt wrong to feel this comfortable with them, sitting in their apartment and intruding on their personal lives all while knowing their bodies inside out. This intimacy you shared with them feels so wrong but so right, but it was an imposition on their personal relationship and was a clear violation of their friends with benefits boundaries.

This- this was why you didn’t want to come here, because you didn’t want to blur these lines any further.

“Did you want anymore?” Heeseung’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, his hand gesturing over your plate.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.” You push your plate away as a signal to show him you’re full. “What was the name of this place?”

“Bao’s Kitchen.” Heeseung says as Sunghoon begins to clear the table. “Did you like it?” You nod, piling the trash near you in one stack before handing it to Sunghoon.

“Alright,” he says, pulling out his laptop and placing it in front of him, “Namjoon said he wanted the financial report in by Monday. But I spoke to Jin on the phone earlier today and there are a few leftover tickets we need to finish for Monday’s meeting. Our annual conference is coming up soon, so we should get a head start on preparing our speaker notes for that, too.”

Nodding along with his words, you shove the unease down your throat and pull out your own laptop, mimicking Heeseung’s motions as you pull up your workspace. When Sunghoon returns, he distributes portions of the documents and the three of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas off of each other and sharing progress reports every few minutes.

In the quietness of your work, you can’t help but notice the shuffling limbs under the table. With a slight glance downwards, you see Sunghoon and Heeseungs legs rubbing against one another, a motion of affection shared between just the two of them and you can’t help but feel a little empty on the inside. A hollow ache gnaws on the inside of your chest. Was it jealousy? Longing for someone else to have all to yourself? You couldn’t tell, but you knew that seeing them together made your heart flutter in a way you weren’t sure you wanted to define.

Shaking your head, you scold yourself internally for fantasizing about a dynamic that wasn’t yours to claim. There were rules- simple rules that were so simple a child could follow them: don’t get attached. And here you were, breaking every single one of them like they didn’t even matter.

By the time you’re about to finish the end of your report, you’re thinking of saying something, maybe telling them that it was time for you to go home. You were suffocating under the ruse of pretending everything was fine when everything was in fact, not fine. You couldn't keep pretending not to notice the subtle glances Sunghoon and Heeseung shot each other, or the gentle praises Heeseung gave his boyfriend when he completed parts of his work. Before you can even begin to pack your things though, Sunghoon breaks the silence.

“We need to talk,” he says, seriousness laced in his voice as he shuts his laptop.

A lump forms in your throat and you begin to hope they can’t hear your heart thump outside of your chest as you struggle to maintain your composure, “Ok, what’s up?”

Sunghoon and Heeseung exchange a glance before he speaks again, his gaze lingering over yours, “Heeseung and I have been talking… about the arrangement,” he gestures between you and the two of them, now avoiding your gaze before continuing. “We think it might be best if we stop seeing each other like this.”

The words are like a punch to the gut and you almost find yourself out of breath, instinctually bracing against the coffee table, “What?” is all you manage to say.

Heeseung leans forward, resting his arms on the table, “We just think it’s getting too complicated. We’re falling behind in work, and we don’t want you to get hurt- or us.

You let out a scoff before you realize it, “Complicated?” you argue, “It’s just sex, right? That’s what we agreed on.”

Sunghoon looks down, his expression pained with guilt, “It’s not just sex anymore, not for us.”

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Heeseung continues, which Sunghoon cannot.

Your mind reels with confusion as you listen to them, panic surging through you as you begin to pack your belongings. “You’re not, so let’s just keep things like it is,” you place your laptop into your bag, fumbling around with the zipper, “I don’t see any issues, I like things how they are.”

“Y/n,” Heeseung reaches out to you, brushing a hand against your shoulder. His touch stills you temporarily, but it only works for a second before it adds to your resolve to start ignoring everything that comes out of their mouths after that. “Y/n, we’re in love with you.”

You’re not listening, too busy still fumbling with the damn zipper on your bag to hear him clearly. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t in the fucking rule book of fucking with your coworkers. Finally, with enough force, the zipper on your bag closes and you stand up, “If we just follow the rules, our arrangement should be fine. I’ll finish the rest of my part tonight-”

Sunghoon and Heeseung stand up with you as well, the latter reaching for your shoulder to ground you, “You aren’t listening, Y/n. We broke the fucking rules, we fell.”

The finality of his words eventually crashes over you, clicking in your head what he means, “So what do we do, then?” you whisper, braving an inch and letting your gaze match his.

“W-what?” Sunghoon steps around the table to stand behind you.

“I- never mind.” you stammer, stepping back only to walk into Sunghoon when you do. He catches you by your arms, holding you in the middle of the living room now. “I’ll send you guys an email once I finish my report-”

“Y/n, you need to talk to us.” Sunghoon says sternly, turning you around to face him.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, the truth clawing its way out, “I broke the rules too, so now what?” your voice is hardly above a whisper, and if Sunghoon weren’t standing so close to you, he probably wouldn’t have even heard you.

Sunghoon’s grip on your arm goes firmer as he takes in your words, processing the weight of them while glancing over at Heeseung, “You- you broke the rules too?”

Avoiding his gaze, you nod, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to,” you start, your voice trembling with shame, “I couldn’t help it, being around the two of you. I didn’t want to hope for anything out of something that already has enough love, and that scared me.” Your throat runs dry at your confession, but you swallow anyways, an award attempt at distracting yourself from the tension ruminating around you.

Heeseung lets out a sharp breath and moves to step around you so that he stands beside Sunghoon, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because that’s the rules?” you say, blinking away your tears, “I’m just an extra, an afterthought to your guys’ relationship. Isn’t that why you approached me? For sex?”

Sunghoon bites his lip, your words crashing over him like a tsunami. It killed him because you were so right, but you were also terribly wrong, “We thought we were protecting our own dynamic by not talking about these feelings we had for you, but we were wrong. You’re not an afterthought, Y/n. We want you in our lives, but we approached the situation all wrong. We got greedy and told you it was all about sex when it was more than that, and for that we’re sorry.”

“I think that knowing you share the same feelings for us now changes things though,” Heeseung adds, reaching to hold your hand in his.

“What do you mean? Like, I’d date you guys? But- you’re already together? I don’t understand, it’s-”

Heeseung squeezes your shoulder with his freehand, pulling you out of your rambles, “It doesn’t have to make sense, Y/n. All that matters is that we’re all happy, and if that means including you in this relationship, then we’ll do that- if you’re open to that.”

“If you want this- us.” Sunghoon says, gesturing between him and Heeseung.

You let out a shaky sigh, a breath of tension you didn’t know you were holding, “I just want things to work out,” you say.

“So we’ll figure it out.” Sunghoon reaches for your face, a gesture so intimate you almost cry. “No rules or arrangements, just the three of us- together.” His dark eyes bore into your own for what feels like an eternity, and for the first time since you’ve started your job, you feel like you belong somewhere. His hands are warm against your cheek as he uses his thumb to rub against the skin softly.

“God, someone kiss me already,” Heeseung interrupts, rolling his eyes.

Sunghoon only laughs, moving his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck so he can guide you over to Heeseung. When you're close enough, Sunghoon gently pushes your face into his until you’re kissing, but this time it felt different. It was gentler, more intimate than all the other kisses you shared with Heeseung during work hours in the stairwell and conference rooms. For the first time since you started this sexual relationship, you take the time to feel him out, acknowledging the way his heart-shaped lips meld against yours perfectly.

Heeseung opens his mouth after a few seconds, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip to ask for permission to enter. You gladly accept, meeting his tongue with your own. As the kiss between you deepens through the connection of your tongues, Sunghoon begins to gently caress your hair while trailing warm kisses down your neck. The heat of his breath in your neck has you moaning into Heeseung’s mouth, resulting in a smile dancing on the latter’s face as he presses another kiss on you.

Overtaken with love and desire, you let one hand go to wrap around Heeseung’s neck as if he can’t get any closer to you while the other hand threads into Sunghoon’s hear, tugging at it when he nips at your neck. Sunghoon starts to unbutton your blouse, assisting you in shrugging it off completely, followed by your lacey black bra that they don’t even spare a second glance at. The younger boy is quick to attach his mouth to your tits, loudly sucking on them. “You like when Sunghoon sucks on your tits, baby?” Heeseung asks, breaking away from the kiss.

You nod desperately, moving your hand from his neck down to his sweats. He doesn’t break eye contact when you start to palm him through the thin fabric, feeling him grow under your touch. It’s not until your fingers wrap around his length completely that he closes his eyes and throws his head back, a guttural groan following right after.

When he’s decided he’s had enough of your teasing, Heeseung moves backwards until he’s sitting on the couch, reaching out to pull you right onto his lap. “Grind on me, let me see you use me,” he pants, replacing Sunghoon’s mouth with his hands, grabbing firmly at the mounds.

As you begin your ministrations against his erection, Sunghoon comes to stand behind you, rubbing his bare hard on against your back. He doesn’t say anything, just rubs against you as he watches you and Heeseung rut on each other. Eventually, he leans down to help guide your hips over Heeseung, establishing a rhythmic pattern which has Heeseung fighting back a moan with every forward stroke.

When his hands depart from your hips, you look up to see why but Sunghoon quickly captures your neck, tilting your chin back even further and motioning for you to open your mouth. Following his instructions to a tee, you not only open your mouth but stick out your tongue, watching as he pushes a wad of spit from his pink lips and let the string of saliva drip down onto your tongue, “Good girl, can you swallow?”

You swallow obediently, licking your lips for extra measure, “Fuck, more…”

While you’re distracted with Sunghoon, Heeseung takes his top off and throws it somewhere across the living room. Sunghoon notices, “Take his pants off,” Sunghoon whispers, leaning down to lick into your mouth before tearing away from you.

Nodding absentmindedly, you get off of Heeseung enough to pull his sweats down along with his underwear, revealing an angry red cock dripping with precum. “He needs someone to take care of him, jerk him off a little. Can you do that for us, baby?” Sunghoon asks, moving to flick his fingers against your nipples.

Before you can respond, Heeseung interrupts, “Strip first.”

A furious red flashes across your face and you quickly kick off your slacks along with your panties, leaving you just as bare as Heeseung is. When you go to sit back on top of him, Heeseung curses, “You’re getting me wet, slut.” He says, pointing at the glistening patch on this thigh, right where you sat on him.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking down in embarrassment.

“Make it up to me by letting me fuck up into your fist.” He moves your hand for you, placing it around his member. After a quick adjustment, he starts to thrust upwards and you watch in awe as the top half of his dick goes in and out of your first, “I can feel you getting wetter. Are you getting off to this? Watching me fuck into your first, imagining it’s your pussy?” he gasps, losing his rhythm slightly, “So fucking tight, all for us, right?”

You nod just as Sunghoon moves to sit next to Heeseung, completely bare as well with his pretty pink cock resting against his abdomen. “You can touch yourself, baby.” Heeseung says to Sunghoon, sticking his tongue out for Sunghoon to suck on. His hand immediately flies down to his member, stroking it quickly as his lips wrap around Heeseung’s tongue, lewd noises emitting from their connected mouths.

Watching them share themselves with each other so willingly as you ride Heeseung’s thigh has you letting out a gush of arousal, drenching Heeseung’s thigh in even more slick, “Y/n likes that Hoonie. Likes watching us kiss, seeing you stroke yourself.”

With Heeseung talking like that and Sunghoon stroking himself in front of you, you lose yourself. Your hips stutter to a stop as you press down on his thigh, your orgasm ripping through you as you cum all over his leg, “Baby… couldn’t even wait till she was riding on of us before cumming,” Heeseung mocks, staring at your pussy. “Lay down for me, Sunghoon.”

Following his instructions, Sunghoon moves to lay down on the couch and Heeseung pulls you to sit on top of him, “Go ahead, put it in.” He gestures towards his dick, and you nervously obey him, blindly reaching behind you until you feel Sunghoon’s shaft. It takes a bit of time, but eventually, you feel Sunghoon’s shaft pressing against your entrance and the two of you moan at the same time when his tip penetrates you, “That’s it, pretty. Doing so well.”

You take your time sinking down, which is apparently too slow for Heeseung because he’s moving towards you, tapping your shoulders. “You’re taking your sweet time, aren’t you?”

“He’s big,” you whine, wincing as you go down another inch.

“I know, baby,” he laughs, smirking at Sunghoon who blushes a furious red, “What’re you gonna do when there’s two of us inside of you?”

Shock grapples you and you let yourself completely sink down on Sunghoon by accident, the burn from the stretch bringing tears to your eyes, “Fuck!” you cry out, slamming your hands down on his chest as an anchor right as Sunghoon brings his hands to your hips to keep you still.

Heeseung backs off when he sees the pain on your face, pity and arousal gracing his features while he watches you take Sunghoon’s cock. He moves to sit down on the couch, lifting Sunghoon’s head just enough so he can slip under it and lay him on his lap, “You look so good, Y/n. Taking Sunghoon’s cock like a good girl.” He looks down at Sunghoon, “You gonna fuck her yet?”

You roll your eyes once the stretching of his member finally becomes bearable, lifting off of him halfways before plopping back down. Eventually, you find yourself going faster and faster until your ass is slapping against his hips with every bounce. You move your hands from his chest, one going to your tit while the other going to your clit, “Fuck, you’re so damn tight.” Sunghoon curses, moving his hands to your ass as he takes over the pace. He fucks into you at a savage intensity, reeling when his balls slap against your cunt with each thrust.

You feel the drag of his cock so well in this position, rubbing against your walls as if they’re molding to the shape of him. As time drags on, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to a second orgasm, clenching sporadically around his length which earns a rough groan from Sunghoon, “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.” He whines, speeding up his pace.

You don’t listen to him, instead letting yourself go completely when you see Heeseung lick his fingers and then stick them inside Sunghoon’s mouth. When Sunghoon starts to swirl his tongue around Heeseung’s digits and suck on them pathetically, a massive wave of pleasure washes over you and you swivel your hips around Sunghoon, riding out your high.

Sunghoon is quick to follow, your pussy squeezing him in a way that’s milking him of everything he’s got. “Good boy, fucking her full of your cum.” Heeseung says, stroking Sunghoon’s hair as his dick twitches inside of you, your walls painted with his cum.

When you finally let yourself relax around his softening member, Heeseung moves to stand beside you, gently pushing you forward until your chest is pressed against Sunghoon’s. With a few pumps of his cock, he lines himself up with your entrance, “Heeseung!” you gasp, feeling his tip push into your entrance while Sunghoon is still inside.

“It’ll be much easier for me to slip in now that your pussy is drenched in Sunghoon’s cum,” he says, finally breaching your entrance with one final push. The rest of him slides in easily, just like he said, and both you and Sunghoon let out a moan of overstimulation as he stretches you out in ways you’ve never been stretched.

It’s barely bearable, likely because Sunghoon is soft now, but that temporary feeling doesn’t last long. “Hyung-” Sunghoon gasps, hands running up and down your back frantically, “It’s too much!” Whether he intended to or not, he quickly hardens up again, stretching you out even more. The feeling of his boyfriend’s cock rubbing against his own was just too much for him to handle, quickly arousing him.

The burning sensation returns at ten fold and you cry out, feeling like you’re being ripped in half as Heeseung very slowly moves around, “Mmph, Sunghoon-” you cry, tucking your face into his neck as he begins to desperately hump upwards.

“I’m sorry-” he says, gripping your sides tightly, “Fuck, I can’t help it. It feels really good, baby.”

Whichever ‘baby’ he’s referring to, you don’t care because Heeseung doesn’t waste a second more before he starts moving. He has the decency to stay slow, patiently moving back and forth to let you adapt to the sheer size of two cocks stretching you out; but you don’t feel any pleasure at all, just the feeling of being ripped to pieces. “It-it hurts!” you whimper, but your body moves on its own, barely grinding against the two men as they move in tandem together.

A sharp slap to the ass has you reeling in both pleasure and pain, temporarily distracting you from the penetration, “If it hurts so much, you wouldn’t be rutting against Sunghoon and I like a dog in heat,” Heeseung hisses, picking up his pace as he starts slamming his hips into you.

Coincidentally, the burning starts to go away gradually once he starts moving into you faster, eventually becoming pleasurable all together. You can’t control the sheer volume of your moans as their cocks move against each other while inside of you rubbing your walls and coating them with precum. They’re hands squeeze at your body in desperation with every clench of your pussy, the fit already tight enough. Your lower abdomen boils with a pleasure you’ve never felt, blossoming with more and more arousal with every thrust.

You can’t feel your legs and sobs wrack your body in the best way possible as they continue to fuck into you like a toy, Sunghoon supporting your entire upper body weight while Heeseung holds onto your hips while drilling into you. Heeseung’s got more leverage from behind, snapping his hips in and out of you like a beast. You’ve lost how many times you’ve orgasmed at this point, your entire body shaking as the boys fight for their own highs while using your pussy as their vice.

“Touch yourself, baby,” Heeseung says suddenly, “I need to feel your pussy clenching around me when I cum,”

“I- I can’t, it’s too much. So…tired.”

“You can do it baby, you’ve got one more left in you,” Sunghoon coos into your ear, dragging his fingers up your back all while thrusting his hips into you from below.

With slow movements, you lift yourself off of Sunghoon just enough to reach your arm between the two of you, going for your clit. When your finger starts rubbing circles around the sensitive bud, you immediately begin to shake as the extra stimulation has you nearing the edge rather quickly, “Mmph, I think I’m gonna cum again!” you sob, the coil in your stomach having snapped completely as the boys continue to drill their cocks into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Heeseung pants, “Gonna fill your pussy up with so much cum,” his hips stutter to a stop as he fills you up with his load, Sunghoon quickly following in suit. You’re too fucked out to notice the end of their chase towards arousal, continuing to rub at your clit absentmindedly as they work through their highs. With a slight of hand, you feel a rush of liquid spurt out of you as a tsunami of pleasure rips through you.

The velocity of your arousal forces both of their cocks out, liquid spraying everywhere as you continue to rub yourself through it, moaning and screaming through every after shock of pleasure. Sunghoon and Heeseung hold you up together as you go limp, weeping quietly and barely processing Heeseung’s soothing words, “So good, baby. You did so good for us, Y/n.”

“We’re so proud of you, we’ll take care of you now. Just rest, Y/n.”

You think it was Sunghoon’s voice you heard last before passing out, the smallest smile on your tear stricken face.

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt. 4

Word Count: 11.9k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation, attempted rape, xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglamela, @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 , @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @mysssticc @babygirl-panda19 @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1

AN: Bit of a late upload for you night owls and a nice surprise for my early risers! Someone tell me to stop making the chapters longer, thank you LOL. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy! This is on AO3 as usual! :D

"So… uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert. "Dog? What dog?" he said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question. "You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

Read Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.5

Xavier drummed his fingers rhythmically on the glass counter, each tap growing more impatient as the seconds stretched on. His eyes darted around the cluttered store, scanning the shelves filled with everything from worn-out sneakers to high-end dress shoes. The store clerk had disappeared into the back room several minutes ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Xavier wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find here.

He had strolled in with nothing more than a photo of a shoe print—a faint clue at best—but it felt more productive than sitting idly by, doing nothing while the answers to your disappearance slipped further out of reach. At least this was action, however uncertain.

Was this even a tangible way to find you? Was he grasping at straws, wasting precious time on a hopeless lead?

And the most haunting question of all—were you even still alive?

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them tightly enough could block out the flood of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind go there, not now. Pushing the fear and uncertainty away, he tried to focus on the faint glimmer of hope that had brought him here in the first place. Anything was better than surrendering to despair.

"This is all I could find on it. It's certainly a unique pair," the shop clerk continued, offering a slight smile. "I'm not as technologically advanced as most shops around here, so sorry to disappoint. But, may I ask—why come to my little shop instead of one of those fancy places downtown?"

Xavier took the pamphlet, glancing over the information quickly before shifting his gaze back to the clerk. "Well," he began, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I heard you were the kind of guy who could identify a pair of shoes just by its print."

The clerk chuckled softly, his weathered face creasing with the effort. "You've been a great help, actually," Xavier added, sliding the pamphlet into his jacket pocket with a nod of appreciation.

The clerk gave an approving nod, the lines of his face softening in quiet satisfaction before he turned his back again, settling into the familiar rhythm of his work. Xavier headed toward the door, the faint creak of floorboards beneath his boots echoing through the small, dimly lit shop. His hand hovered over the door handle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a nagging thought rooted him in place. He paused, heart pounding slightly as the question formed in his mind.

He turned back, the weight of uncertainty pulling at his voice. "Say... you wouldn’t happen to know where this shoe was originally made, would you?"

The clerk stopped, mid-motion, his hands faltering over a pile of worn soles. The question seemed to hang in the air, drawing out a moment of silence as the man stared down, his brow furrowing. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Xavier felt a flicker of hope, unsure if it would lead him anywhere, but desperately clinging to the possibility.

The clerk finally turned, his face thoughtful, his voice quieter now. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if pulling the memory from a fog. "Last I saw of that shoe, it came from a company based in the... er, N1—no, wait..." His brow furrowed deeper as he worked to piece it together. "N109 Zone. Yeah, that’s the one."

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight Xavier couldn’t ignore. The clerk’s tone wasn’t just casual recollection—it was tinged with something more, like the memory of that particular shoe stirred something deeper. Xavier felt the knot of tension in his chest tighten.

Xavier felt his breath catch in his throat. N109 Zone. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He had heard plenty about that place—mostly rumors, but enough to know that it was a dangerous, lawless sector. Few dared to go there unless they had no other choice, and even fewer came back with stories worth telling. It was a no-man’s-land, a forgotten corner of land where control was lost long ago. The kind of place where people disappeared without a trace.

His mind raced, piecing it together. If the shoe had come from there... Did that mean you were there too? His stomach churned at the thought. The faint hope he had clung to started to blur with the creeping dread of what fate could have fallen upon you in the N109 Zone.

"You’re sure about that?" he asked, his voice betraying the slight anxiety creeping in around the edges. The clerk glanced up from his work, noticing the shift in Xavier’s tone.

"Yeah," the clerk said, more firmly this time. "I’m sure. That shoe—rare brand—hard to forget. The company folded years ago, but they used to operate out of the N109 Zone. Only place I’ve ever seen them sold."

Xavier swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. If the shoe came from N109, it could be a clue—a dangerous one, but still the only lead he had. He felt the urgency building inside him, a gnawing sense that time was running out, but also the undeniable question of what he might find if he went there.

Could you really be in a place like that? His mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but there were too many unknowns. Were you okay?

"I...appreciate your help," Xavier muttered, his voice thick with tension. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to steady his breathing.

"You're not actually thinking of going there, are you?" the store clerk asked, his voice edged with disbelief as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned slightly forward over the counter, studying Xavier with a mixture of concern and amusement. "No offense, but a pretty fella like you doesn’t exactly look like the type who could survive in a place like that. Not really worth the hassle for a pair of shoes don't you think?"

Xavier paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t turn around immediately, letting the weight of the clerk’s words linger for a moment. Finally, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm, almost casual. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice steady, though the tension in his body remained. "I've dealt with much worse."

The clerk blinked, surprised by Xavier's calm demeanor, but said nothing more.

Xavier turned to face the door once again, his hand resting on the handle as he prepared to step out into the cold streets. "Thanks again," he added, his tone carrying a finality that didn’t invite more questions.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door and walked out, leaving the shop behind. His heart pounded a little harder now, not just from the looming threat of the N109 Zone, but from the resolve building inside him. There was no turning back now.

He had a tangible clue—a real, solid lead to your whereabouts. For the first time in weeks, the haze of uncertainty lifted ever so slightly. But now that he knew you were possibly in one of the most dangerous areas anyone could imagine, time was no longer on his side. Every second that ticked by felt heavier, pulling him deeper into the urgency of the situation. The N109 Zone wasn’t just dangerous; it was a place where people vanished, a place where hope died. He had no time to waste, but rushing in blindly would be suicide. He needed a plan.

Stepping into the cold evening air, Xavier pulled the pamphlet from his jacket pocket, its crinkled edges soft from being handled. His eyes scanned over the contents carefully. Make and model—simple enough, not much help now. A detailed diagram of the shoe—useful for recognition, maybe, but not a lifeline. Then his eyes caught something else—a faint address printed near the top. It was partially worn, barely legible, but there.

His heart skipped a beat. An address? Could this be where the shoe was made? Or where it was sold? Either way, it was another piece of the puzzle, and right now, it was the closest thing to a breadcrumb trail he had. He squinted at the faded letters, trying to make out every detail.

If this address was in the N109 Zone, it could lead him right into the heart of the danger. But it could also lead him to you.

His mind raced. First, he needed to confirm the location. Then he needed a plan—something better than just walking straight into the N109 Zone and hoping for the best.

Pulling out his hunter’s watch, Xavier quickly scanned the address printed on the pamphlet. The small device whirred to life, its holographic screen flickering as it worked to process the faint, worn-out text. A soft ding echoed in the quiet street as it started searching for the location. Xavier watched the screen intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

The map on the watch blinked, the dot moving erratically across an unmarked, shadowy area. It drifted back and forth, as though even the advanced technology in his hands was confused, struggling to pin down an exact location. Xavier frowned, watching the dot jitter across the screen. His stomach tightened with frustration. Was the address too old? Was it leading him nowhere?

Just when he thought the device might give up entirely, the dot paused. The holographic screen flickered once more, and with a soft chime, it glowed green in confirmation. The hunter's watch had finally locked on to a spot. Xavier stared at it, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. The place it had marked was deep within N109 Zone, tucked away in the heart of the most dangerous, uncharted part of the city.

He exhaled slowly, his mind running through a million possibilities. The watch’s confirmation meant something tangible, something real—but what waited for him there? He couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a trap, a place where the trail might lead to nothing, or worse, to more danger than he could anticipate. But it was also the only clue he had to your whereabouts.

Xavier closed his hand around the watch, feeling its faint warmth through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a simple lead anymore—it was a beacon, calling him into the depths of the N109 Zone. And whatever waited for him there, he would face it.

Because finding you was all that mattered.

As Xavier made his way through the still, empty streets back to his apartment, the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a faint, orange glow across the sky. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan. Gear, weapons,—he’d need everything ready before venturing into the N109 Zone.

But just as he turned the corner, his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the early morning quiet. Xavier stopped, his brow furrowing as he fished the phone out of his pocket. It was a jarring sound—no one should be calling him at this early hour.

He glanced at the screen, squinting in confusion. The number was unknown, unfamiliar. His immediate thought was Captain Jenna—she was the only one who’d be up this early, possibly reaching out with new intel—but this wasn’t her number.

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Unknown number. His instincts screamed caution. In his line of work, random calls at odd hours rarely led to anything good. The number could belong to anyone—a lead, a warning, or worse, a trap.

But then again, it could be something important—something connected to you. He couldn't ignore the possibility.

Should he answer? The phone rang again, and with each buzz, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach tightened. Whoever it was, they wanted to reach him badly enough to call at this ungodly hour.

With a deep breath, Xavier made a decision and swiped to answer the call. "Hello?" His voice was guarded, careful.

For a moment, all Xavier could hear was silence, a thick void that made his pulse quicken. Then, suddenly, the sound of crackling static filled his ears, distorting the line. He frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. The static grew louder, chaotic, until it was abruptly interrupted by a voice—scared, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.

"Xavier? Is that you??"

His heart nearly stopped.

You kept running until your legs gave out, your breath ragged and chest burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not yet. An hour ago, you had been trapped, bound in your captor's suffocating bedroom, that thick invisible leash tightening around your neck with each passing day, stealing your hope, your strength. Every second felt like eternity in that room, but somehow, with some luck of a power outage of all things, you’d broken out of your cage. You’d ran—bolted into the cold night without looking back.

And now, you were almost free.

But “freedom” wasn’t what you had imagined. The streets stretched out before you, bleak and lifeless. It felt wrong. There was no joy in the air, no welcoming breeze to assure you of safety—only the gnawing sense that you had escaped one cage just to enter another. You recalled something Sylus, your captor, had mentioned in passing.

"Its always 'night' here", he'd said with a small smile, and now you truly realized he hadn’t been lying.

Darkness swallowed the entire area, a thick, unnatural veil over everything. Even though your eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, the eerie, half-flickering streetlights cast only dim pools of sickly yellow across the cracked pavement. The shadows loomed, stretching too far, hiding too much. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the haunting silence that wrapped around you.

The air itself felt thick, as if it was suffocating under the weight of secrets too dark, too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Each alley you passed felt like it was watching you, whispering silent threats from the shadows. Exhaustion clung to your limbs, and you had finally stopped, collapsing onto a broken bench under one of the few flickering streetlights that still worked. The cold metal dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, to steady your thoughts.

Where do you go now? You scanned your surroundings again, looking for anything that could offer direction, but the streets were as desolate as before. The same cracked pavement, the same looming shadows. No signs. No people. Just an eerie quiet.

A fleeting thought entered your mind—maybe there’s a train station nearby? The idea seemed almost laughable. Would it even take you to Linkon? And would you even make it to a station without getting caught?

You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for the thought. Hitchhiking was another idea that crossed your mind—no way, you scolded yourself, brushing off the notion as quickly as it came. You probably couldn't trust anyone here. Not in a place like this. Here, trusting a stranger was as reckless as running blind into the dark.

But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t stay still for long; resting too much would make you an easy target. With a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand again. Your legs trembled beneath you, but you kept moving, hoping—praying—you’d find someone who wasn’t out to harm you. Something that could help guide you out of this nightmare. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of fear pressing harder on your chest.

As your bare feet dragged across the cracked concrete, the desperation gnawed at you more fiercely. You were lost—physically and mentally. Each street looked the same, the darkness playing tricks on your eyes. Panic swelled in your throat. How long could you keep going like this? How much longer could you walk before your legs gave out? Before someone found you?

Your breaths came quicker, shallow with fear. You needed a way out, but the deeper you walked into the N109 Zone, the more it felt like the place was swallowing you whole. You were running out of time. Running out of hope.

And then finally, as if the cruel universe had decided to grant you another fleeting moment of mercy, you saw it—a faint glow of lights in the distance. Squinting, you could just make out a corner store, its soft, artificial light spilling onto the cracked sidewalk. A few people were loitering outside, giving the place a rare sense of life. A tired-looking woman clutched her child's hand tightly, and a man stood by, lazily smoking a cigar, his eyes scanning the street in disinterest. A couple of others hovered nearby, exchanging quiet words under the dim streetlight.

You couldn't believe your eyes. A store? Here? In the N109 Zone? It seemed almost surreal, like it had been plucked from another world and dropped into this forgotten wasteland. But it made sense in a grim way. Even in a place like this, people have to eat. Make a living.

With a rush of desperate energy, you hurried toward the store, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The people outside cast looks in your direction, but don't say anything. You stopped just short of the entrance, glancing down at yourself for the first time. You must look insane. A nightgown hung loosely around your body, dirty and torn at the edges. No shoes. No socks. Your hair was tangled and wild from the running. The sight of yourself made you wince in embarrassment, but there was no time to care about that now.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a dimly lit but surprisingly ordinary scene. The inside of the corner store looked like any other—aisles of candy, snacks, cheap knick knacks and toys stacked high. It was a stark contrast to the dangerous, shadowy streets just outside. But one sight caught your attention above all: the food.

Your stomach growled loudly, twisting with hunger. You hadn’t eaten since the chicken dinner Sylus had provided before your “outburst.” You hadn't been able to finish it, and now the exhaustion from running had made the hunger almost unbearable. Your mouth watered at the thought of eating, but there was one major problem—you had no gold.

Your heart sank as you stared at the rows of candy bars and instant noodles. How were you going to get anything?

Anxiously, you shuffled toward the front counter, your nerves jangling with every step. When you reached it, you hesitated for a moment, staring at the small bell. With trembling fingers, you tapped it.

A disheveled-looking man, his hair sticking out in uneven tufts, glanced up from behind the counter. He had been glued to his phone, and the interruption clearly annoyed him. His eyes landed on you, and for a brief second, he just stared, taking in your disarrayed appearance before rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Can I...help you?" he asked, dragging out the words as if the very act of speaking was a burden.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but your mind raced with too many conflicting emotions—fear, embarrassment, hunger. What could you even say?

"I've been kidnapped," you blurt out, your voice shaky and desperate. You opened your mouth to explain further, to tell him everything—how you had escaped, how you were on the run, how you needed help—but before you could get another word out, the man snorted.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said dismissively, leaning back on his chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Who hasn't been kidnapped at least once around here?"

His casual tone hit you like a slap. The raw urgency in your voice was met with nothing but apathy. Your heart sank. He wasn’t going to take you seriously. You were just another story in a place like this, another desperate face with nowhere to go. You stood there, frozen, trying to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to your situation.

You swallowed hard, fighting back the frustration welling up inside you. "Please, I'm serious. I just need—"

"Look," the man interrupted, cutting you off again, his eyes barely lifting from his phone. "You want something, buy it. Otherwise, move along. I’m not here for charity cases."

You glanced at the counter, the rows of candy, snacks, and drinks just inches away, knowing you had nothing to pay with. Desperation clawed at your insides. You were exhausted, starving, and running out of options.

"I don't have any gold... do you ha-have a phone?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you blinked back the hot tears threatening to spill. How could someone be so indifferent to the obvious suffering staring him in the face?

"Broken," he said flatly, still not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was like a physical blow. "And… gold? What are you, some Linkcunt citizen?"

The venom in his words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Linkcunt citizen? The insult was harsh, dripping with disdain, and it sent a sudden wave of anger rushing through you.

"Yes, I’m from Linkon," you correct, the frustration and fear bubbling over into your voice. "What’s with the attitude? What did I do to you? I'm asking for help!"

He finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. It was mocking.

"What did you do? Nothing. That’s the problem. Linkon folk come down here thinking they’re better than everyone, tossing around their fancy gold and expecting the world to hand them everything." He shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt.

"You want help? Then you’d better figure out how things work around here real fast, princess. No one's gonna hand you anything for free."

You felt your fists clench at his words, the anger mixing with a deeper sense of helplessness. You hadn’t asked to be here. You hadn’t asked for any of this. And yet, standing in this grimy corner store in the depths of the N109 Zone, it was clear that no one cared about your suffering. Not here. You weren’t in Linkon anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, swallowing the anger rising in your throat. Getting into a fight with this clerk wouldn’t help you, not now. But the bitterness of his words lingered, and you realized just how alone you truly were in this place.

Silently, you turned your back to the greasy man behind the counter, his words still echoing in your mind as you began to walk up and down the aisles. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion pulling at you. Your stomach growled, gnawing at your insides, reminding you just how long it had been since you'd eaten.

But something else gnawed at you too—something that made your skin crawl with discomfort. You hadn't changed your pad for hours, and now the sticky, damp feeling clung uncomfortably between your legs. The sudden realization hit you, a wave of disgust washing over you as you winced.

Swallowing hard, you glanced over toward the feminine hygiene aisle. Rows of necessities lined the shelves—pads, tampons, basic supplies—just out of reach. You stared at them, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't just food you needed now. You couldn’t go on like this.

But you had no credit cards. No way to purchase anything. Nothing.

Your eyes flicked back toward the front of the store, where the disinterested clerk sat, still engrossed in his phone. He wasn’t paying attention to you. He didn’t care. Nobody here did.

You felt a knot tighten in your throat as the harsh reality of the situation settled in. You had to steal. There was no other choice. You hated the thought of it—hated how low it made you feel—but survival wasn’t a matter of pride. Not here. Not now.

Your fingers trembled as you looked back at the shelves. You knew what you had to do.

The clerk still wasn’t paying attention, his face lit by the glow of his phone. His indifference might be your only saving grace. You could do this—quickly, quietly, and then you’d be gone.

With shaky hands you reach for a plastic bag that had fallen on the ground. The bag felt like a shield, something to hide the weight of what you were about to do. You didn’t think twice as you moved toward the feminine hygiene aisle, knowing you couldn’t walk any further in your current state. You reached for a pack of pads, your movements slow and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that it felt like the entire store could hear it.

Next, you hurried down the snack aisle, grabbing a few protein bars, a small bag of chips, and a bottle of water, all of which disappeared into the bag as your pulse raced in your ears.

You glanced toward the counter, your body tense with anxiety. The clerk still hadn’t looked up, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint, unmistakable sound of pornography drifted from his speakers, making your stomach churn in disgust. You twisted your face, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.

He was utterly oblivious to your frantic movements, his attention locked on the screen, but that didn't ease the gnawing sensation in your gut. Every step felt like you were tiptoeing across a minefield, a ticking clock counting down to disaster. Even though he wasn’t watching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was.

With the bag now heavy in your hands, you made your way toward the exit, each step carefully measured, your breath shallow as you fought to keep calm. The distance between you and the door seemed endless, as if every inch stretched into miles. But finally, your trembling hand closed around the cold metal of the handle.

Your heart raced as you crossed the threshold, bracing yourself for the inevitable—a shrill, deafening alarm that would shatter the silence and expose your crime to the world. You waited for it, your breath caught in your throat, ready to bolt at the first sound.

But nothing came.

No alarm. No piercing siren. The only thing you could hear was the frantic beating of your own heart as the door swung shut behind you with a quiet click.

For a moment, you stood there, frozen in place, not daring to move. The cool night air brushed against your skin, grounding you in the eerie quiet. The world outside the store felt impossibly still. It took a few seconds for your brain to register that you had made it out—unseen, unheard.

You swallowed hard, keeping your head down as you hurried past the few patrons lingering near the store. Their eyes followed your every step, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you, judging, curious. Did they happen to care, or did you just look that insane?

The woman with the child pulled her daughter closer as you passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The man smoking his cigar gave you a long, leering stare, as if trying to figure out what your story was. The others whispered quietly among themselves, but you couldn’t make out the words, nor did you want to. You kept walking, willing yourself to be invisible, but the tension in the air made your skin prickle.

Once you were a safe distance away from the store, you ducked down an empty alley, the shadows wrapping around you like a cloak. The world outside was still bleak, the flickering streetlights casting only the faintest glow, but here in the quiet, you finally had a moment to breathe.

You found a relatively clean spot, tucked behind an old dumpster, and set the bag down beside you. Your hands shook as you reached into the bag for the pack of pads. The discomfort and itch between your legs had grown unbearable, and the relief of changing, even in such a grim place, was something you couldn't put off any longer.

Quickly, you adjusted yourself, wincing at the feeling of the old pad peeling away. You worked fast, knowing you couldn’t linger here for long. Once you were done, you felt a small sense of relief—at least one problem had been solved.

Next, you pulled out the snacks. The hunger was still clawing at you, and the sight of the protein bars and chips made your stomach ache even more. Tearing into a protein bar, you ate quickly, barely tasting the food as you devoured it, desperate to fuel your exhausted body. The bottle of water came next, and you drank it down in large, gulping swallows.

For the first time since you had escaped, you felt a flicker of calm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last, but here in this dark corner, with food in your stomach and a small bit of comfort, you allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe.

But the quiet didn’t last. You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. You had to get moving at some point or Sylus would find you. This place was unforgiving, and survival demanded more than just temporary refuge.

Tucking the remaining items back into the bag, you sigh in satisfaction, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. The streets were still empty. For now, you were alone. You had survived one more step in this nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t over yet.

Some time passes and you can slowly feel yourself falling asleep against the dumpster.

As you crouched in the dim alley, trying to fight off exhaustion and gather your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, steady, and casual, accompanied by a faint, off-key whistling. You stiffened, instinctively pulling the bag closer to your chest.

The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then came the voice—low, cautious, but curious.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up warily, your eyes landing on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair that fell just above his eyes. His clothes were worn—faded jeans and a jacket that had seen better days—but he didn’t look like the rough types you usually imagined when you thought of the N109 Zone. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his sharp, dark eyes were fixed on you, a flicker of concern—or maybe something else—dancing behind them.

His face was hard to read. He had a slight stubble covering his jaw, giving him a rugged, almost tired appearance. His lips quirked in what might’ve been a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you—like he was curious, but also sizing you up. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made you wonder why he’d stopped to talk to you at all.

"Are you... lost?" he asked, stepping forward slowly, the whistling tune dying in the air. His voice was softer now, almost as if he was trying to be gentle, but his presence made the space around you feel even smaller.

"What happened to your arm?"

You swallowed hard, trying your best to keep your gaze on him. You had honestly completely forgotten about the scar on you arm. As much as you wanted to explain, every instinct screamed to stay wary. This wasn’t a place where strangers helped out of kindness, and you knew better than to trust easily. But as exhausted and desperate as you were, you weren’t sure if you could afford to push away help, even from someone who might have their own agenda.

"I—I need help," you stammered, your voice shaky, barely managing to push the words past your tightening throat. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and exhaustion leaving you on edge. You hugged the bag tighter to your chest, every muscle in your body tense. "But... don't come any closer just yet."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting, though he made no move forward. He stayed where he was, his hands still in his pockets, the dim streetlight casting long shadows on his face. For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with tension as he watched you.

"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and even, though the curiosity in his eyes never wavered. He tilted his head, taking in your ragged appearance with a deeper interest. "No problem. I’m not here to scare you. Just trying to figure out what you're doing out here all alone."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You needed help, but trust was a dangerous thing in a place like this. Still, you were running out of options. Your mind raced as you tried to decide what to say next.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you weighed the risks. Could you trust him? Telling the truth might make you vulnerable, but lying wouldn’t get you far either. You had to say something—anything—to explain why you were here.

"I was kidnapped," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, a tremor of fear running through you as you spoke. "I escaped… I don’t know where I am. I just need to get somewhere safe and rest so I can get home later."

The man’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He studied you, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess whether or not you were telling the truth. His silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, making your heart pound faster in your chest.

"You’re serious?" he finally asked, his tone more subdued now, almost disbelieving but not dismissive. He took a small step back, showing that he wasn’t going to invade your space. "You really got away from someone?"

You nodded, the tension in your body still coiled tight, waiting for his reaction. You couldn't tell if he believed you, but you hoped—desperately—that he wouldn’t press too hard or turn you away.

The man stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read the truth in your expression. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture softening just slightly.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you're telling the truth... then you’ve got bigger problems than just being lost."

He glanced around, checking the street behind him as if making sure no one else was nearby, then he looked back at you, his face more serious now. "You can’t stay out here. This place— the N109 Zone—it’s not somewhere you want to be wandering around alone, especially if someone’s looking for you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine. You already knew the N109 Zone was dangerous, but hearing it from him made it feel even more real.

"Look," he continued, his voice softening. "I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need help, I can take you somewhere safer. But you’ve gotta trust me, and you’ve gotta move quick. If they’re after you, it’s only a matter of time before they find you out here."

He waited, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to see if you’d accept his offer—or run.

You hesitated for a long moment, scanning the man’s face for any sign of deceit. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so, but something about his demeanor made you feel that, for now, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he meant harm, he could’ve acted already. Swallowing hard, you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ll come with you.”

He nodded in return, offering nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "My place isn’t far. You can rest there, maybe clean up a bit. It’ll give you a few hours before you have to figure out what’s next."

You fell in step behind him, your bare feet quiet against the cracked pavement. The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of passing cars. You hugged the bag closer to your chest, still tense but too tired to think about running. As you walked through the dim streets, a question lingered in the back of your mind.

"I'm surprised you stopped to help me," you finally said, your voice tentative. "Most people here…they wouldn’t have even looked twice."

He glanced back at you, barely breaking stride, and shrugged. "I’ve seen worse things in this place. Trust me, a girl lost in an alley isn't the strangest thing I’ve come across." His tone was casual, almost detached, as if this was just another day in the chaotic world of the N109 Zone.

His nonchalance unnerved you. Why was he so calm? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, thoughts racing. Maybe you had made the wrong choice. Maybe he had his own agenda, like everyone else in this place. But then again, he hadn’t tried to harm you. If he wanted to, he would've done so. You weighed your options, feeling the tug of paranoia, but exhaustion and desperation had their hold. You pushed the doubt aside. For now, you decided to trust him, even if only for a few hours.

As you walked in silence, the two of you eventually came across something you hadn’t expected to see: an old, grimy phone booth, its glass cracked but still intact, standing at the edge of a corner. A relic from another time, long since forgotten by most.

Your heart skipped a beat. A phone. You might be able to call Xavier.

"Do you have any… uh, quarters?" you asked, your voice tight with desperation. You hadn’t thought about it before, but now it seemed obvious. Linkon City had long left behind the need for such old currency—everything there was digital, clean, modern. But here, in the N109 Zone, where everything felt stuck in time, of course they still used quarters. It made sense in this broken-down world.

He stopped, watching you for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, hang on." He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds, fishing around with a slight look of annoyance. After a bit of clattering, he pulled out a few quarters, handing them over to you without a word.

Your hands trembled as you took them. This could be your chance—your lifeline. You stepped inside the booth, hoping that the old machine would still work, and stared at the dirty receiver.

You stared at the old rotary dial for a moment, panic rising in your chest. You tried to remember how it worked as you slipped the coins in the slot. It had been so long since you’d read about one of these—everything in Linkon was sleek, touch-based, connected by the web. But here, in this forgotten part of the world, you were holding a piece of the past. The process felt foreign, archaic.

Your mind raced, desperately trying to recall Xavier’s number. What was it? You racked your brain, images of his scribbled phone number from messages, fragments of conversations, all blurred together. The numbers danced in your head as you tried to piece them together.

Your heart pounded louder, matching the beat of the seconds slipping away. You were running out of time. With a trembling hand, you began dialing the numbers, trying to focus on every movement, praying you’d gotten it right.

The dial clicked as it spun back after each number, the mechanical sound unnervingly slow. The receiver crackled in your ear as the phone began to ring.

Please, Xavier... please pick up.

The ringing felt endless, each second a heavier weight pressing on your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the receiver tight. The noise around you seemed to fade into the background as you waited, hoping, praying that on the other end of the line, he’d be there—ready to hear you, ready to help.

The phone rang again... and again.

Your breath caught in your throat, a prayer hanging on the edge of each ring.

"Hello?" A timid, cautious male voice came through the receiver, muffled by the crackling static, but it was unmistakable.

Relief crashed over you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed right there in the grimy phone booth, your knees buckling as the sound of Xavier's voice reached your ears. After everything—you finally had a connection to him. Tears welled up in your eyes, your breath shaky as you clutched the receiver tighter.

"Xavier!! Xavier, thank god!" you cried, your voice raw with desperation. "I don't even know where to start..."

But after your outburst, only silence greeted you. The line crackled, sputtering with age, the static drowning out whatever response might have come. Frustration surged through you as you gripped the receiver, shaking it in a vain attempt to clear the line. You banged the phone against the booth, biting back a sob as the interference persisted. This thing must be older than you thought. How could it fail you now?

Finally, the crackling stopped, leaving only a tense, quiet hum on the other end.

"Xavier? Is that you??" you asked, your voice trembling, barely holding back the panic. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing this fragile connection—this one thin lifeline.

The line crackled for a moment before Xavier’s voice came through, steady and calm, but with a layer of unmistakable relief.

"It’s you…," Xavier said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d been holding onto hope for so long that hearing your voice felt like a lifeline. "I’m so glad you’re alive. Are you okay? Where are you?"

The sound of his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing over you. You sob, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t alone. He had been looking for you, and now, he was coming.

"Xavier…I was kidnapped," you sobbed, the words finally breaking free, the fear and terror of the last few days pouring out. "I escaped. I’m cold, hurt and scared..."

His response was immediate, his tone both calming and steady, as if he was trying to comfort you even from miles away. "I’m here now. I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? I’m coming for you. I just need a better idea of where you are."

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep it together, but the tears threatened to spill over. "I don’t know where exactly… all I know is I’m in the N109 Zone. I found a phone booth near a corner store. Everything around here looks abandoned."

There was a brief pause on the other end as Xavier processed the information. "Alright," he said firmly. "Stay there, I'll try and track the location of the phone booth. I’m on my way. Just… hold on a little longer, okay?"

"I—" you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the man who had helped you. "I actually found a really nice man. He’s letting me rest at his place. He hasn’t hurt me at all, so don’t worry. He says his place isn’t far from here. I’ll come back to the phone and give you the details after I see it."

Xavier’s voice tightened slightly, the concern clear. "I don’t like the sound of that. Just… be careful. I’m coming as fast as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, alright? If anything feels wrong, leave. Fight like hell if you need to."

"I will," you whispered, gripping the receiver tightly. "Just hurry, please."

"I promise I’m coming," Xavier said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He paused, just for a second, before continuing. "One more thing though—do you remember who took you? I’ll need a name, in case…in case I don't find you when I arrive. I don’t want to lose you again."

Your heart raced as memories of your captor flashed in your mind. "Yeah! His name is S—"

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for an additional 3 minutes," the automated voice cut in sharply, drowning out your words.

Panic surged through you. The call had abruptly ended, the receiver in your hand now silent except for the monotonous prompt asking for more coins. You frantically searched your pockets, but you had no more quarters.

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for—"

You screamed, the frustration boiling over as you kicked the phone, the clanging metal reverberating through the phone booth. Your hand gripped the receiver so tightly your knuckles lost circulation, and with a final surge of anger, you thrashed against the booth, the tears you’d been holding back now streaming down your face.

"Xavier!?" you yelled into the dead line, your voice cracking with desperation. He had to hear you. He had to. But all that came through was the cold, indifferent tone of the automated voice, endlessly repeating its demand for more quarters, as if mocking your panic.

You slammed the receiver down, the booth suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Every second that ticked by was a second lost, a moment Xavier might not know who had taken you, might not know how to find you.

With a deep, shaky breath, you stepped out of the booth, blinking away the tears.

"Do...you have any more quarters?" you ask, more tears threatening to spill from your face at any moment now.

The man outside the phone booth shifted awkwardly and shook his head, his eyes flickering between you and the dark street. He had watched you from the moment you’d rushed into the booth, but now, as you sobbed, his discomfort was clear. He took a slow step forward, clearing his throat, but didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what to do.

"You, uh... you okay?" he asked finally, his voice soft but uneasy. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing around as if he wasn’t used to being in such an emotional situation.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, but the tears kept coming. The overwhelming frustration of losing the connection with Xavier left you feeling exposed and helpless. You didn’t know what to say to the man, couldn’t find the words to explain the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

He hesitated, then sighed, taking another step closer. "Look, uh… if it’s about the call, I’m sure your guy’s coming. Sounds like he cares. You just... you know, gotta hang in there. We’ll get to my place soon, and you can rest."

His words, though clumsy, were an attempt at comfort. But even as he tried to reassure you, his uncertainty showed in the way he avoided your gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone breaking down in front of him.

You sniffed, nodding slightly, feeling drained from the outburst. "Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine," you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your nightgown, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

The two of you resumed walking, your steps slow and heavy as you sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened to spill. The man walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, glancing at you now and then with an awkwardness that was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying much, just occasionally looking around as if he wished there was something more he could do, but he seemed completely out of his depth when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a woman on the verge of breaking down.

"You’ll, uh, feel better once we get there," he mumbled, his voice low and sheepish. "It’s not much, but at least you can get some sleep. Maybe eat something."

You nodded, biting your lip as you fought to compose yourself, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you again. The air between you felt thick, filled with unspoken words and awkward tension. He kept glancing at you as if he wanted to say something more, but each time, he swallowed the words, guiding you quietly through the darkened streets.

The city around you was eerily quiet, the desolation of the N109 Zone even more pronounced in the silence. The flickering streetlights barely illuminated your path, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. You hugged your arms close to your body, your mind still reeling from the failed call, but you focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.

The man cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "I’m… not really good at this kind of thing, you know," he admitted, his tone awkward, almost apologetic. "But you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it."

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. His words were clumsy, but there was a strange sincerity in them. Despite his unease, it seemed like he really was trying to help, even if he didn’t quite know how to do it.

As the silence stretched on, the weight of everything hanging between you, you glanced at him through the dim light. His awkwardness, his uncertainty—it was all so clear. But despite everything, he had helped you. He had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. Given you the last of his quarters. You swallowed, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"I didn’t catch your name, by the way," you said softly, your voice still a little shaky.

He blinked, as if surprised you’d asked. His steps slowed for a moment before he gave a small, awkward shrug. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t say." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as he seemed to search for the right words. "It’s Reese," he finally muttered. "Not much of a name, but it’s mine."

You offered a small, tired smile, your voice soft. "Reese… thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—" You stopped yourself, the weight of your situation pressing on your chest again.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, well… I’m no hero. Just didn’t seem right to leave you out there. Not in a place like this."

As the two of you walked in silence, Reese cleared his throat, glancing over at you with a bit more confidence than before. "So… what’s your name? Figured if we’re gonna be walking together, I should know who I’m helping."

You hesitated, your heart racing slightly. Trust wasn’t something you could afford so easily, not here, not now. Despite his awkward attempts to help, you weren’t ready to give him your real name. Better to be cautious, you reminded yourself. You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It’s...Mephisto," you said, the lie rolling off your tongue before you could second-guess it. You had vaguely remembered Sylus calling out the name to someone from outside the door, to who you weren't sure. One of his men probably.

Reese nodded, seemingly taking your answer at face value, no suspicion in his expression. "Alright," he said, giving a half-smile. "Nice to meet you Miss Mephisto, despite the strange name."

You nodded back, feeling the weight of the lie settle inside you. It wasn’t much, but it gave you a small layer of protection—just in case. You still didn’t know Reese’s full intentions, and trust here could be a dangerous thing.

"Nice to meet you too, Reese," you replied softly, glancing around the darkened street.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dark, desolate streets of the N109 Zone, you and Reese finally reached his place. The house stood at the end of a narrow alley, tucked between two crumbling, abandoned buildings. It wasn’t much to look at—dingy, with peeling paint and windows that seemed to have long lost their clarity. The front door sagged slightly on its hinges, the wood scuffed and weathered, as if it had seen better days a long time ago.

Reese unlocked the door with a bit of effort, pushing it open with a low creak. Inside, the air was stale but warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. The place was small, cluttered, and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The furnishings were old, mismatched, and worn—a threadbare couch sat in the corner, covered in a faded blanket. The walls were bare except for a few crooked picture frames, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Still, despite its grimy appearance, there was a strange sense of comfort to the place, like someone had lived here for a long time and had made it home in their own way.

"You can sit over there if you want," Reese said, motioning to the couch. "It’s not much, but it’s better than the streets."

You nodded, stepping inside cautiously. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details—the scuffed coffee table with a few empty bottles on it, the stack of old magazines piled up against one wall. It didn’t scream danger, but you couldn’t shake the wary feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Something about the whole situation made you uneasy. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the smell of old dust, or just the lingering doubt about trusting someone so easily in a place like this.

Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on your body, and the promise of rest—any rest—was too tempting to ignore. You sat down on the couch, the worn cushions sinking under you, and pulled the bag of pads closer to your chest. Reese seemed harmless enough, but you reminded yourself to stay on guard. You weren’t out of danger yet.

Reese busied himself, tossing a few items around to clear space, but the house remained eerily quiet.

As you settled into the couch, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible, a sudden noise from the backyard broke the uneasy silence. It was faint, but distinct—a thud, followed by the faint sound of something shuffling or dragging. Your heart leapt, and you sat up a little straighter, your eyes darting toward the back of the house.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice tense as you turned to look at Reese.

He froze for a split second, the calm, awkward demeanor you’d come to expect from him faltering. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "It’s just… my dog. Yeah, he’s in the shed out back. I forgot to mention him earlier."

You watched him closely, feeling the tension spike in the room. There was something off about the way he said it, the quickness in his tone as if he were scrambling to come up with an explanation.

"Your dog?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of your mind.

"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "He’s old, doesn’t like people much, so I keep him out there. No big deal."

His words didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his response, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. The uneasy feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, creeping up your spine.

"Right," you muttered, still watching him carefully, but you decided not to push further. Not yet.

"Um... coffee?" Reese blurted out suddenly, his voice still laced with that nervous edge. He offered a forced smile, clearly trying to redirect the tension hanging thick in the air. He rubbed his hands together, glancing toward the small, cluttered kitchen. "I could make us some. Might help, you know, after everything you’ve been through."

You hesitated, still on edge from the strange noise outside and his quick, jittery explanation. Something didn’t feel right, but you weren’t sure if pushing him now would help or only make things worse. You forced a smile of your own, your mind still racing with questions.

"Sure," you said quietly, your voice flat as you tried to calm your nerves. "Coffee sounds good."

Reese nodded, too eagerly, and moved toward the kitchen, fumbling with an old coffee pot. The clattering of cups and the rush of water filled the silence, but your mind was still focused on that noise outside. A dog in the shed? It seemed like a weak excuse, but you didn’t know him well enough to push it.

You leaned back into the couch, the worn fabric sinking beneath you as your eyes drifted toward the back door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe Reese wasn’t telling you everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were exhausted, but you couldn't let your guard down.

Reese finished brewing the coffee after a few moments, bringing it over to you in a green, cracked mug. You took it from him with a polite smile, setting it down on the coffee table untouched. The steam curled up from the cup, filling the small room with the faint scent of stale coffee. Reese sat across from you, sipping from his own mug, but you couldn’t help but notice how distracted he seemed.

He kept glancing toward the window, then back at his watch, over and over. Each time, his face tensed a little more, as though he were expecting something—or someone. Your wariness only grew.

What is he looking for?

The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the noise in the backyard wasn’t as innocent as he’d made it sound.

"So…uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert.

"Dog? What dog?" Reese said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question.

"You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and then you saw it—realization hit him like a brick. His eyes widened as he turned to look at you, panic flickering across his face.

You sat up straighter, your heart starting to race. He’d lied. And now he knew you knew.

"Uh, I mean—" he stammered, his voice shaky, "I meant, uh, Rex. Yeah, his name’s Rex. Sorry, I’m just… distracted." He forced a weak smile, but the panic was still there, clear as day. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room thickening with every second that passed after Reese's panicked slip. His eyes kept darting between you and the window, as if something outside demanded his attention. Your pulse quickened as the uneasy feeling deepened. Something wasn’t right, and you knew you had to get out of there.

"I should…go," you said, forcing a smile as you slowly stood up, trying to keep your voice casual. "Y'know... Xavier’s probably found the phone booth by now. I should go back and meet him."

Reese blinked, his expression tightening for a split second. The forced calm he'd been trying to maintain wavered as he set his mug down on the table a little too quickly, the clink of the ceramic against wood echoing in the silence. "Go? Already?" He scratched the back of his neck again, his voice strained. "I mean, it’s cold, and it’s not safe out there… Maybe you should wait a little longer."

You swallowed hard, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. Every instinct told you to get out, but you had to keep your cool. "Thanks for the coffee and everything, but I don’t want Xavier to worry," you replied, taking a step toward the door. "I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, remember?"

Reese stood up as well, his movements stiff, like he was trying to decide whether to stop you. His gaze flickered toward the window again, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, I get it. But, uh… maybe just a few more minutes. You don’t want to be out there alone, do you?"

You glanced toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The unease that had been lurking beneath the surface now felt like a solid weight pressing down on you. Something was very wrong, and you needed to leave—now.

"No, I’m leaving. Thank you for everything, but I need to go," you said, your voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. You tried to move past Reese, your eyes focused on the door, your heart pounding with the hope of reaching it before things got worse.

But then Reese stepped in front of you, his whole demeanor changing in an instant. "No," he said flatly, his voice suddenly devoid of the awkwardness and sheepishness he’d shown before. His tone was cold, almost emotionless, as he closed the distance between you with startling speed.

Before you could react, you felt it—the cold press of metal against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body froze as the unmistakable sensation of a gun pressed hard into your skin.

"You're not going anywhere," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His earlier nervousness was completely gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous. "Sit back down."

Your heart raced, your mind scrambling for a way out, but all you could feel was the sharp edge of fear coursing through you. You swallowed hard, trying not to move too quickly, knowing that with one wrong step, things could spiral even further out of control.

"Reese… please," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking. "You don’t have to do this."

His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation—but his grip on the gun didn’t waver. "Just sit down, and no one has to get hurt."

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but for now, all you could do was comply and hope that Xavier was still coming for you.

"I promised them a girl..." Reese muttered, his voice trembling slightly, though the gun still pressed firmly against your neck as you looked up at him from the couch. He glanced away from you, his guilt briefly flickering in his eyes. "Then you just... happened to be there. Right place, wrong time, I guess. So...this is how it has to be."

His words hung in the air, cold and final.

"I’m sorry," he added, though there was no comfort in his apology—just a hollow attempt at easing his own conscience.

Your breath hitched as you tried to process his words, the full weight of the situation crushing down on you. He wasn’t just some awkward guy helping you out of kindness. He had been waiting for someone—anyone—to fill a promise. And you had walked right into it.

As you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your neck, the door creaked open. Another man stepped into the room. He was taller than Reese, with a thick, rough appearance—his face shadowed by the dim light. His eyes swept the room, landing on you, taking in the situation with a detached indifference.

"Is this the girl you promised?" the man asked, his voice low and gruff, as if he’d been through this kind of scene too many times to be surprised by it. His gaze shifted briefly to Reese, then back to you, narrowing with interest.

You felt a chill run down your spine as his question hung in the air.

Reese didn’t move the gun from your neck, but you could feel the tension in his body shift as he glanced over at the man, clearly nervous about his arrival. "Yeah, this is her," Reese replied, his voice tight. "I just… need a few more minutes to get her to cooperate."

The other man stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor. His eyes raked over you, cold and calculating. "No time for that," he said flatly. "Get her in the basement. You know how this works, Reese."

Your pulse quickened, fear gripping you tighter as you looked from one man to the other, your mind spinning with panic. What were they planning? You needed to find a way out, and fast, before things escalated even further.

"You’re making a mistake," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "Someone’s coming for me. If you don’t let me go, it’s going to get a lot worse for both of you."

As the weight of your words hung in the air, you weren’t even sure who you were referring to in that moment—Sylus, the man who had kidnapped you in the first place, or Xavier, the one coming to save you. Both names were tangled up in your desperation, your mind too frantic to distinguish between them. All you could do was hope that the threat would ring true, that it would be enough to make Reese think twice.

The taller man smirked, clearly unimpressed. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, turning his back toward the door to pull up the carpet, leaving you alone with Reese and the gun still pressed to your neck. You watch as a metal trap door with a handle is revealed to have been hidden under the carpet and you gasp.

Instinct kicked in, and without thinking, you twisted suddenly, using the brief distraction in Reese’s hesitation to try and break free. You shoved his arm away with everything you had, knocking the gun off balance. For a moment, you thought you had a chance, adrenaline flooding your body as you fought with all the strength you could muster.

"Let go of me!" you screamed, thrashing and kicking as hard as you could. Your elbow connected with Reese's side, and he let out a sharp grunt, but his grip tightened. His face twisted in a mixture of frustration and fear, and he fought back, grabbing your arm and wrenching you toward him.

"Stop it!" Reese growled, struggling to maintain control, but you weren’t going down without a fight. You kicked at his legs, but his hold on you only grew stronger.

The door to the basement creaked open, and before you could react, the taller man reappeared, grabbing you by the other arm. His grip was like iron, and between the two of them, they overpowered you. Your heart pounded as you screamed and clawed, your feet scraping against the floor, but the force of their combined strength was too much.

"No! Please—" you gasped, trying to twist free, but they dragged you toward the open door.

The tall man grunted with effort as they forced you toward the dark, looming stairwell. "Get her down there already," he growled, his tone sharp and impatient.

You struggled even harder, but your muscles were weakening, the adrenaline starting to fade as fear took over. They shoved you roughly down the narrow staircase, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the damp wall. The dimness of the basement swallowed you whole, the air cold and musty. You could feel the fear wrapping around you, tighter with each step they forced you to take.

The taller man was close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cold, damp basement. You felt his rough hand grab the bottom of your nightgown, his fingers curling into the fabric. Panic surged through you as his cold hand snaked across your belly, the touch sending a shiver of disgust up your spine.

You screamed, thrashing wildly against his grip, but his strength overpowered you. The man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Wouldn't hurt to try her out before the boss gets here..." His voice was thick with lust, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that turned your stomach.

His hand slid lower, his fingers beginning to snake inside your underwear. You could feel his hard on pressed against your backside. Fear and revulsion took over, and you knew you had to do something—anything—to stop him.

Thinking fast, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, your voice desperate and shaking. "I'm bleeding! I'm on my period!"

The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. His hand paused, the twisted hunger in his eyes faltering for a moment as confusion flickered across his face.

"You’re what?" he muttered, his brow furrowing. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for you to take a sharp breath, your heart still racing.

"I’m on my period," you repeated, your voice trembling. "It’s—it’s bad. You don’t want to do this right now."

For a brief second, his disgusted expression told you that he was weighing his options. The thought of period blood clearly repulsed him, and his hand slowly pulled away from your underwear, his lips curling in frustration.

"You’re lucky," he growled, wiping his hand on his pants, his face twisted with disdain. "But don’t think that saves you."

His hand shot up before you could react, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the rough concrete floor toward the makeshift shower installed in the corner of the basement. Your scalp throbbed with each pull, the pain sharpening with every step, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry out.

He threw you against the cold, damp wall, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You barely had time to catch your breath before he twisted the rusty shower handle. Water burst from the nozzle, freezing and unforgiving.

“So filthy,” he sneered, standing over you as the icy water soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin. “Maybe this will help?"

The cold bit into your bones, and you hugged yourself, trembling, struggling to stay upright as the water pounded down. He stood there a moment longer, watching with twisted satisfaction, before finally turning away, leaving you shivering on the cold, wet floor of the basement.

Sobbing on the cold, unforgiving basement floor, you shiver, your body pressed against the damp concrete, each breath heavy with despair. The chill seeps into your skin, a numbing cold that echoes the hollow ache inside you. Your tears fall, silent and unnoticed, merging with the grime beneath you as exhaustion pulls you deeper into its grip. In the silence, a desperate wish slips through your mind for someone to save you—anyone, even him.

Though Sylus had stolen you away, his presence now haunts you like a ghost. In this unbearable solitude, even the memory of him feels like a twisted solace. You long for his shadow, for those red, gleaming eyes that once pierced through the darkness, and his stark white hair, a glimmer against the void.

At least he gave you warm baths.

The thought slips through your mind, shame twisting in your chest. How could you even think of Sylus now, when poor Xavier was likely out there, rushing to save you, unaware of the torment you’re enduring? Guilt coils around you, tightening with every heartbeat, yet you can’t shake the cruel comfort of that memory. Sylus, for all the wrong he had done, had never left you to freeze, never left you to shiver and break alone.

Your vision blurs as the weight of everything crushes you, and you can almost see him—an apparition of salvation in your mind. His image flickers, vivid and sharp, as your consciousness begins to fray at the edges. The world slips away, piece by piece, and the cold wraps tighter around you.

The cold water finally stops.

In this fading moment, you cling to that impossible hope, that he, with his red eyes and cold hands, might come for you—if only to save you from a fate worse than death.

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve gets the wrong number and starts texting an interesting guy. Steddie, modern au, no upside down

Steve had been feeling pretty good. He’d gone out, had a nice conversation with a girl at the bar and gotten her number. He didn’t feel sparks but she was nice and cute. They didn’t talk about anything too deep but when Steve had asked for her number she put it in and then left with her friends.

He tried not to be too desperate. But he wanted to let her know he was serious and that he would (eventually) be good boyfriend material. So a little before midnight, he shot a text to her to make sure she was alright.

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

He had debated on the emoji but figured it was harmless and innocent in the end. He put his phone down and got ready for bed, expecting her to text back after a couple of minutes. Unless she didn’t get home safely. Steve tried not to think about that.

After changing his clothes and brushing his teeth he checked his phone. He lit up when he saw that Misty had replied.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

Misty texted a little different from the way she talked. A bit more…well he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Misty seemed like a really straight-laced woman. She was in the process of getting her education degree.

Steve shot back another message, saying that he had a good time tonight and he really hoped to see her again. There it was. A clear intention. If she responded positively, he’d ask her out right then. But the reply didn’t come as quick as he wanted. When it got around 12:30, Steve finally called it a night. Misty had probably gone to sleep as well.

-------------------------------------------

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

Eddie stared at the text he just received. He racked his brain for whoever Steve must be and what he had done all day today, wondering if he met someone but their name just slipped his mind.

But nope. He had spent this lovely Saturday at home, lounging around in his apartment on his day off. He hadn’t gone out. And he hadn’t met anyone named Steve. The message came when he was in the middle of making his near-midnight dinner of mac and cheese. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly checking in on someone.

Eddie looked at his surroundings. Decent place, a bit cramped but big enough for just him and for anyone who needed to crash on his couch. He had popped out earlier to get some cigs and he had in fact made it back safely.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

And who said he didn’t have impulse control? He thought about it for at least two minutes before sending the message.

[11:55] I had a nice time tonight. Hope to see you again.

Eddie looked at the new text, his chewing slowing to a stop. This Steve guy had met someone, spent some time with them, and was now trying to set up another date. There were a few ways to go about this. For just a moment he considered what a rational person would do, just a moment though.

A rational person might’ve said right away ‘wrong number’ or ‘wires crossed’. But Eddie’s brain didn’t function on rationality. So even though Steve clearly meant to text someone else, Eddie thought of the best way to reply. It did take him a bit to send it, the macaroni was calling to him. But by 1, Eddie had sent something back.

(1:07) You saw me?  (1:09) From my apartment?  (1:10) Creepy

He went to bed, thinking he’d wake up to a very confused man and when morning came he wasn’t disappointed.

[8:13] What are you talking about? It’s Steve? From the bar?

Eddie checked his clock. It was ten in the morning. Who got up at eight on a Sunday? Eddie’s first thought was a church-goer. Those folks were early risers. But they didn’t frequent bars too much.

(10:29) Sorry man (10:30) I think you got the wrong number (10:30) I didn’t go to a bar last night.

Once he sent it, Eddie belatedly hoped the words weren’t too blunt. It couldn’t feel nice, getting a number error. But after a moment of thinking, he started coming around to the idea that maybe Steve wasn’t such a catch. People didn’t give wrong numbers after a good time. Maybe he actually was a creep.

[10:36] Oh. Well, I’m sorry to bother you.

Eddie rolled from his back onto his stomach. Curse his soft heart. He didn’t know anything about this man and somehow he felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to go gushing to a stranger. Who knows what kind of interactions Steve had with this mystery number? So instead, he went the typical Eddie route and tried to lighten the mood.

(10:38) Probably dodged a bullet (10:38) They could’ve been a serial killer (10:39) Or worse someone who jogs in the morning

He put that little dig there just to feel out Steve. If he wasn’t at church, maybe he was the kind to go and workout in the morning. In the middle of making his coffee, Eddie realized he was trying to learn about the dude and thought he might be courting danger. Then he heard a ‘ping!’ and any ideas of caution were thrown to the wind.

Leaning against the counter, the only sound was the percolating as he read what Steve had said.

[10:46] Okay confession. I did actually go for a jog this morning. Is that weird?

Eddie started to visualize this man and another alarm went off in his mind that he promptly shooed away.

(10:47) No not weird at all (10:47) It’s perfectly natural for an insane person (10:48) Didn’t you go drinking last night? (10:48) And then you went for a jog this morning? (10:49) You might just be more scary than a murderer (10:50) Scratch that (10:50) This seems like text book serial killer behavior (10:51) Bet this is how you scope out your targets

The coffee finished brewing and Eddie starting pouring it and it was only then he realized the wall he’d sent Steve accusing him of being a killer. It looked like texts from a crazy person. He looked crazy. His friends had complained more than once about him sending these streams of texts instead of keeping it all in one response. Steve was going to see that and leave him on read, or just block his number.

[10:57] Damn guess I better come up with a new tactic.

Eddie didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until he tried to drink and spilled hot coffee on himself. Alarms were ringing in his head again but he might as well be deaf.

Part 2

[fictionalwh0ree]

4+1 - dean winchester

summary: four times you and dean almost got caught together and the one time you actually got caught. word count: 3.5k warning: swearing, meantions of sex

4.

you and dean had an agreement. strictly friends with benefits. a person to fuck on the road. thats all you’d wanted at first, and you’d both agreed with it. you’d quickly come up with a system, one that was functioning well for the first year, but as you felt more comfortable with it, the closer you’d gotten to slipping up. of course, sam had no idea, and it was going to stay that way.

on your hunts, you always had a separate motel room, sometimes adjoining, but always next to each other. once sam had gotten over his nightmares, he became a heavy sleeper. he was also an early riser, which meant he was usually in bed before dean. so when sam was fast asleep, dean would set up his pillows to look like he was there and would sneak next door, giving you a special knock. you’d put pillows between the headboard and the wall so there wouldn’t be any noise and you’d fuck before dean would retreat back to his room. you went through the motions over and over, satisfied with the outcome.

one specific night, you’d finished slaying a vampire nest before going out for a couple drinks to celebrate. sam was knocked out within twenty minutes of getting back. you yourself were exhausted, almost falling asleep in your bed as you waited for dean. just as your eyes shut, you heard the knocking at the door. you got up, stumbling on your feet, the alcohol still in your system. you would be the first to admit that you’d drank a little more than you were used to that night.

“y/n,” you heard the whispered voice on the other side of the door.

odd, you thought. dean never did that.

you opened the door, finding dean swaying back and forth with a large smile on his face.

“dean, are you drunk?” you laughed, pulling him inside.

“they have the tiny bottles in the mini fridge,” he beamed.

you shut the door behind you and when you turned around, dean was already shirtless. he kissed you quick, you could taste the whiskey on his lips, just like he could taste the vodka on yours. things got heated, the night ending the way it had many times before, but this time was different. once dean had pulled out, he flopped down onto the bed beside you. you waited a couple minutes, turning over in bed to face away from dean. soon enough, you felt him flip over too, before wrapping his arm around your middle and pulling you closer.

“dean,” you said.

“hm?” he mumbled.

“you have to go back. you know the system,” you said.

“shhh. just a couple minutes then i’ll go,” he mumbled.

“only a couple minutes,” you warned as you snuggled into his hold.

it didn’t take long before the two of you were completely passed out, forgetting about what you’d said. you only awoke the next morning when you heard some knocking on your door. you opened your eyes slowly, feeling deans arm around you. you sat up, shaking the boy who hadn’t so much as stirred at the sound.

“dean,” you whispered aggressively, “dean.”

“huh?” he said as he woke up, confused as ever.

“y/n, are you there?” you heard sams voice on the other side of the door.

“yeah, one second!” you called out.

“go hide in the washroom,” you told dean.

“what time is it?” he asked, still confused.

“6 in the morning,” you said, rushing him to the washroom.

“that kids such a freak,” dean said, rubbing his eyes.

you threw his clothes at him and he grabbed them before going in and shutting the door. you threw on a tshirt of your own and underwear before going to the door and opening just enough to get your head through.

“hi sam,” you said, fake yawning.

“hi, i hate to wake you but have you seen dean at all? he’s not in bed or the washroom,” sam said, concerned.

“dean? no. why would i have seen him?” you laughed awkwardly. you really hated how you were an awful liar.

“i- i don’t know. thats why i’m asking,” he said, confused.

“maybe he went for pie, you know how that fatass loves his pie,” you joked.

“right,” sam said, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips before continuing.

“y/n is there someone else in there?” he asked.

“ummmm,” you thought for a second.

“yes, from the bar last night. i called him. he- he’s just in the washroom right now,” you smiled slightly.

“okay, sorry to bother you,” he said before turning around.

“sam,” you called out, causing him to turn, “your brother can hold his own, you know that. if he’s not back by 8 we’ll go looking for him, okay?”

“okay, thanks,” sam said, smiling genuinely before walking back to his room.

you shut the door, letting out a sigh of relief. dean carefully opened the door, peeking his head out. he gave you a sheepish smile as he stepped out.

“no more sleepovers.”

3.

being a hunter had many downsides, but one of the worst was how you could go from being somewhere where you’d freeze without a sweater at night to somewhere where you practically had to sleep naked to keep cool in the span of a couple days. your last case had been up in some town in the mountains in montana, where even in mid july, the days were only ever warm. for the first couple days, you’d had few leads, not even knowing what creature you were hunting, only knowing something was up. this meant the three of you were split up. sam spent most of the day back at the motel doing research while you and dean were out talking to people and gathering information.

of course, being alone with dean meant research wasn’t all you were doing. one particular day, you’d been told that a person of interest in your case frequented a dingy little bar. you decided you’d have a little stakeout, parking outside it before realizing that the place only opened in an hour. so with nothing else to do and an empty parking lot, you knew what was coming. it wasn’t long before you were straddling deans lap. as the kisses got more heated, dean pulled your sweater off, kissing down your neck and moving down to your chest. he planted a couple hickeys right on your boobs. before it could go any further, you spotted who you were looking for walking into the bar and had to go back to work. you’d basically forgotten about the hickeys seeing as you would be living in long sleeves and sweaters for a while.

however, in an unexpected turn, you’d found the information you needed and were able to take down a demon that’d been plaguing the town within the next day. sam quickly found a possible case and you were in the car before nightfall.

that’s how you’d ended up in arizona. the sun was blistering all the time and the night brought no relief. when you’d gotten to your motel room, you sifted through your bag, searching for any top that would cover the pronounced hickeys on your chest, but nothing worked. the next morning, you stepped out ready to work in some ugly bleach stained tshirt, which was all you could find. when sam and dean saw you outside the room, they gave you an odd look.

“y/n, are you sure you wanna wear that?” sam asked.

“uh, yeah. whats wrong with it?” you asked, laughing nervously.

“well, we’re supposed to be county police, and that outfit doesn’t exactly scream police,” he said.

“yeah, i’m with sam on this one,” dean agreed.

you forced a smile as you looked at dean, mad that he had put you in this position.

“you’re right. i’ll change. i’ll meet you guys in the car,” you said.

you threw on a tank top, one that covered all but one very purple hickey. on top of that, you wore a thin long sleeve. you got in the backseat of the car and dean started to drive. sam looked back at you, the same puzzled expression from earlier on his face.

“y/n, it’s almost 100°?” sam said.

“i’m feeling a little cold today,” you lied.

“are you catching something? are you sure you don’t wanna stay back?” sam asked, reaching out to feel your forehead.

“i’m fine sam,” you said as you smacked his hand away.

when you arrived at the victims house, you stepped out of the car. the three of you spoke to each other, standing just by the hood of the car, as you discussed facts. within the two minutes you were outside, you had already begun to sweat in the sweltering heat. you couldn’t take it anymore. you walked away and pulled off your long sleeve, throwing it into the backseat. you walked back to the brothers who were standing side by side. they stopped their conversation as you tugged at your top, trying to move it to cover what you knew they were staring at.

“y/n, what is that?” sam said, eyes darting between your chest and face.

“what’s what?” you said, not able to meet his eyes.

“that,” he said, pointing at it.

“oh, this?” you said, looking down at it while sam nodded, “it must be a bruise from that demon bitch. can’t even feel it.”

“uh huh,” sam said, seemingly unconvinced, but he didn’t care more to ask.

he dropped the subject and began to walk towards the house. dean hung back, a stupid smirk on his face.

“nice ‘bruise’ sweetheart,” dean said.

“shut up.”

2.

your hunt had almost been jeopardized because of dean, meaning he was confined to his car. dean’s fake identity had fallen through with your main witness, so sam took it upon himself to get information out of him with bobby. the guy, who was a major asshole, also had little respect for women. he’d thrown one too many weird comments your way and couldn’t seem to take you seriously, which meant you were also confined to dean’s car. sam and bobby went into the pub the man frequented, ready to sit and have dinner with him. he was bound to be inside for an hour or two, but dean refused to go anywhere else, wanting to make sure his baby brother would be okay.

that didn’t mean you couldn’t have any fun, though. dean got into the backseat with you, and with rock music playing in the background, the two of you started making out like a couple high schoolers. the night was pitch black, no moon out, you knew it would be hard for anyone to see the two of you. for about thirty minutes, you made out, deans hands under your shirt fondling your breasts while your hands ran up and down his toned torso. dean pushed you back gently so you were laying down. he began to kiss your jawline, moving down to your neck. his hands moved till they were at the bottom of your skirt. he pushed it up. as he tried to blindly push your underwear to the side, you worked at his belt.

just as dean unzipped his pants, you heard a noise outside. bobby and sam were talking just outside the car. you and dean jumped apart when you realized, you quickly threw your ring under the car seat as dean did his belt back up. you fixed your skirt and got on your knees on the car floor just as sam opened the door.

“what’re you two doing?” bobby asked.

“i dropped my ring,” you said quickly.

“oh look, found it,” dean said, smiling as he handed it to you.

“anyway, what’re you two doing back so soon?” you asked.

“he didn’t show,” sam said, a suspicious look on his face as he stared at the two of you.

“what?” dean said.

“yeah. weird, i know,” sam responded.

bobby’s eyes flickered between the two of you with his eyes narrowed. his attention only diverted by sam hitting his arm gently.

“bobby, bobby,” sam called, “there he is.”

“shit, okay. see you guys later,” bobby said.

he gave the two of you one last knowing look before shutting the car door.

“that was a close one,” dean said, breathing a sigh of relief.

1.

you really wished things were different. you prayed that the feelings would go away, but it was only bound to happen. you and dean had been hooking up for over a year and you’d been harbouring feelings for at least six months. you learnt how to suppress it, knew how to hide it from everyone. that is, until you got jealous. you were close to wrapping up a hunt and had stopped at a bar in the evening. it wasn’t unusual to see other girls hitting on dean, i mean, look at him. you tried to get used to it and usually you did a good job of being nonchalant, but for whatever reason, you were having a really hard time that evening. maybe because your period was coming up, and it was making you see yourself different all while messing with your emotions. maybe you felt especially jealous because you thought the girl dean had his arm around was gorgeous, and was everything you wanted to be but couldn’t. your eye twitched as you watched him laughing with her. you were practically fuming, until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“that an ex?”

you turned your head to find a ruggedly attractive man smiling while looking in deans direction.

“something like that,” you said back, turning your attention to him.

“jonah,” the guy introduced himself, reaching his hand out.

“y/n,” you said, shaking it.

“well, y/n, that right there is my ex girlfriend. what do you say we make them a little jealous,” he said, pointing at some girl who was sitting at the bar by herself.

“sure,” you smiled.

“let me buy you a drink?” he asked.

you nodded your head, following him to the bar. as you talked and laughed, you could feel deans eyes on you. jonah, who was sitting with his back facing his girlfriend and facing dean, would let you know if dean glanced your way, you doing the same for him. the guy was nice, he threw a couple flirty comments your way, but knew what was too much. you hit it off, having endless conversations. once enough alcohol had flowed, you were feeling tipsy, and when they played your song, you couldn’t help but drag jonah to the dance floor. you faced away from him, your ass rubbing up near his crotch as you swayed with the music, drink in hand. you were having such a good time, you’d barely even noticed deans death stare. before long, you felt another tap on your shoulder. you turned to face dean, an angry look on his face contrasting the satisfied look on the girl from earlier’s face.

“listen, you and sam are gonna have to find your own way home. i’m leaving,” he said.

“well, dean, sam might have to find a way home on his own, which i’m sure won’t be a problem since he’s so used to it,” you said through a fake smile.

“whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“hey man, do we have a problem here?” jonah asked.

“no man, she’s all yours,” dean said before turning around.

unbeknownst to either of you, sam was sitting at the bar and he had overheard the whole ordeal. he got out of his seat, following dean and grabbing his wrist before he could walk out of the door.

“dude, what was that about?” sam asked.

“nothing, dude just gives me bad vibes,” dean said before walking out.

+ 1.

the previous night at the bar had been something else, something you’d never expected. the three of you wrapped up the case quick, but tension was high, it was obvious. sam barely spoke a word but you could feel his discomfort. you and dean were angry. dean hadn’t said anything to you and you noticed how his jaw clenched and unclenched as he drove. you were sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed looking out the window. the sun was setting already and you were set to leave missouri the next morning, but sam really wasn’t looking forward to a car ride with the two of you guys like this. so, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“so, do you guys wanna go for a drink? to celebrate?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“no,” was all you said.

“can’t, taking that chick from last night out for dinner,” dean said.

“have fun,” you said sourly, your eye twitching.

“i will,” dean said firmly.

that didn’t help, sam thought to himself.

you arrived to the motel and you went straight to your room, while dean just dropped you guys off before taking off himself. you sat in your room, packing angrily while muttering to yourself. once you were all packed up, you waited for sam to finish in the shower of the joined bathroom before you hopped in yourself. you used it to unwind a little, and felt a lot less tense once you’d come out. you put on a tank top with some pyjama shorts and were just about to sit down to watch tv when you heard a knock on the door. you looked through the peephole, only to see dean standing outside with a tub of ice cream. you opened the door with an angry look on your face.

“your date bail on you?” you asked with your hands on your hips.

“its a peace offering,” he said, handing you the ice cream.

you took it and put it in the mini fridge. dean was right behind you, trailing you around the room.

“what do you want dean?” you asked as you turned on the tv, not bothering to look in his direction.

“the usual?” he said carefully.

“are you serious?” you scoffed.

dean stayed quiet as he stared at you.

“do you seriously think i’m gonna fuck you?” you laughed angrily.

“well, i-” dean started.

“are you trying to give me an std or are you just stupid? you were with a different girl last night,” you said meeting dean’s eyes.

“i didn’t sleep with her,” dean confessed.

“wow, didn’t think i’d live to see the day where dean winchester lies about not sleeping with a girl,” you sassed.

“i’m not lying to you,” he said.

“right, so you didn’t sleep with her last night so you took her out to finish the job tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows with a sarcastic smile.

“no, i was with her for like half an hour before i left,” he admitted, getting angry himself.

“why? she talk too much for you? didn’t get straight to it?” you smirked.

“no, goddamnit y/n,” dean yelled, catching you off guard yourself.

“then what, dean, what? what am i not getting here?” you yelled back.

“is that really what you think of me?” he shouted.

“i don’t know what to think about you anymore,” you shouted back.

“you wanna know the truth y/n? really?” he yelled.

“yes dean, enlighten me please,” you yelled.

“i didn’t stay because she wasn’t you. i didn’t sleep with her because she wasn’t you,” he shouted.

you went quiet, not knowing what to say to him.

“look, last night was wrong of me. i shouldn’t have done that, but seeing you with that guy, i just got so angry,” dean admitted.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you like me, winchester,” you said, getting closer to him.

“shut up,” he said as he planted a kiss on your lips.

“say it,” you coaxed.

“well, i guess i was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if, you know, you and i were a thing,” he said, unable to meet your eyes, a blush covering his cheeks.

“thats funny because i’ve been thinking the same thing,” you smiled up at him, his green eyes twinkling as he looked down at you.

he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you gently. you smiled into it, and so did he, only interrupted by someone clearing their throat. you split up, turning to see sam standing in the bathroom doorway.

“door was open,” he said, a half smile on his lips as he looked between the two of you.

“oh,” dean laughed.

you hid your face in deans chest, your cheeks were burning up.

“i’m gonna head out for a minute, give you two some time alone. the walls are thin,” he said as he walked away.

“congrats, about time,” he shouted before he shut his bathroom door.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The evening shift is quiet. You don’t mind the low din of the atrium. The cafe offers the only light to the empty lobby. Hours ago, it was a rush of bodies and voices, now, the shops have closed down and the sign above you remains lit as the sole beacon in the business plaza. 

The slower hours are more routine than the frantic mornings filled with early risers desperate for their first dose of caffeine. You did a few weeks of that before you hopped on the evening’s rota. It gives you time to read between baking and cleaning. 

The front doors open and close, echoing through the space. It’s eerie this late at night but you it doesn’t bother you as much as it once does. The footsteps that follow add to the unease of their approach. You recognise the man by his silhouette. 

The marquee glow limns his harsh features, the stubble on his jaw adding to the sharp angles, his dark hair and brows give him a sinister slant. You smile as you stand from the stool and pour him a black coffee. You ring him up before he even gets to the counter. 

“Evening, sir,” you greet him. You still don’t know his name. All your other regulars like to chat. He doesn’t. “Black.” 

He flicks a card up between his index and middle fingers. The stamps across the rows add up to a free drink. You take it, brushing his calloused fingertips as you do. 

“Oh, a free drink. Exciting.” You cancel the transaction and slide his cup forward, “enjoy.” 

He grumbles and takes the cup. He moves to the other end of the kiosk and grabs a lid and sleeve. As he walks away, you bid him a good night. He never says much, if anything. 

You go back to sanitizing the frother. The work isn’t so dull when you have nothing else to do. The night wears on as the sky softens through the glass walls of the atrium   

Dayani arrives just before five to take over. You hand her the keys and balance the till before you go. She sends you off with the dread of the shift ahead. 

Out on the street, the lull remains. Not for much longer. The bus routes will pick up and the daily commuters will clog the streets. Your trek home is five blocks but not too bad considering. You share a loft with two other girls but you rarely run into them. You all work different shifts in different borroughs. 

Your room is at the rear of the old brick building. The legislated fire escape crosses your window and casts a shadow through the sheer curtains. You undress and unwind in your single bed. The room is small and not exactly worth the cost but it’s a roof over your head. 

You sleep until just after one. The city had you waking in spurts at the honk of an angry driver or the shouts of rowdy pedestrians. You eat the stale scone you claimed from work and have instant coffee to wash it down. 

You go through the usual. You wake up little by little and drag yourself out to the shower. You catch a glimpse of one of your roommates. Lottie barely seems to notice you as she carries a basket out the door. 

When you’re done washing up, you pull on your sweats and a loose tee. You waste some time watching TV on your phone then plug it in so you have some juice left when you leave. You eat a microwaved tray of pasta and change into your uniform. You do up your hair and face, nothing too much, and count the minutes until you’re due to leave. 

As exciting as the city can be, you can’t afford that part of it. You work, you sleep, you get by. 

Xander has an hour overlap with you before he goes. He tells you about all his midterms and the party he wants to ditch his studying for. It’s only an elective course anyway. He leaves in indecision. 

You never finished school. You did one year and dropped out. You did well enough but you couldn’t afford it. Not even the local community college in your hometown. Funny, you still came all the way out here to scrape pennies. 

The last rush of the day passes through. Those on the way to their own overnight shifts; security guards, hotel clerks, and all others. 

The silence sets in. You play around on your phone. The battery dies a lot quicker lately so you make yourself quiet the matching game and put it in your pocket. You pull out the novel you keep hidden behind the till and read until the door opens and closes. 

Same time, same man. His black hair swallows up the light of the sign above as you pour his coffee. You get him a new card and stamp it, handing it over with your usual smiling nicety. Still no response. He goes to grab his lid and sleeve. 

You wait patiently. He doesn’t march off like usual. You peek over as he strides along the counter. He drops a bill in the tip jar. You thank him. Still no answer. 

He walks off and you look in the cup. You can’t believe it. You snatch up the bill and push through the door at the side of the kiosk. You hurry after his shadow. 

“Sir, sir, I think you made some mistake--” the door closes heavily and his figure passes outside the glass panels. You can’t go that far without locking up. Oh well, he’ll be back tomorrow and you can let him know. 

You walk back to the cafe stand and dip back behind. You unfold the hundred dollar bill. Maybe it’s not real. Maybe it’s a joke. Looks pretty real when you hold it up to the light. 

[highpope]

Biker!JJ x Reader

based on this ask, thanks anon!

warnings: swearing, motorbike racing/stunts, scared reader notes: i don't even know what this is, i got carried away. enjoy

“Okay, odds,” your friend Sarah had said when the two of you sat down on the risers. You had both decided to get last minute tickets to the bike show that was touring through town. Neither of you were that interested, but thought it’d be fun to see the race and some stunts. 

“Odds what?”

"What are the odds you go into that?” She asked, pointing to an area outside of the track. There was a giant metal sphere that had two bikers riding inside. They moved, calculated and confident in circles, going upside down and crisscrossing. 

Your mouth basically fell open, “None. Absolutely not.” 

Sarah laughed, “C’mon, humor me. Pick a range.”

You sigh, “one to one-hundred.”

“Really?” She looked at me like I was the one being unreasonable. 

I nodded and started counting down from three. 1…2…3… “Sixty-seven.”

“Sixty-seven.” 

“Fuck,” you mumbled. 

----------

And that’s how you found yourself standing off to the side of “The Globe of Death,” waiting for the attendant to let you in.

You sighed as you wiped the sweat off your palms on your jeans. The sun had gone down the whole way now, leaving the beach illuminated only by the spotlights set up by the tour around the racing track and the neon lights on the bikes. At least that meant no one could see how scared you looked. You can’t believe this was happening to you. “Alright, sweetheart” the man called out to me, “you done this before?” You shook your head, breathless.

“Just stand right on the X and don’t put your arms out.”

Okay, duh. You just nod, unable to speak without fear you would call the whole thing off. “Alright, Maybank! She’s all yours!” The man yells as the hinge to the dome starts to lift. 

You carefully step inside, taking the hand of the rider to help pull yourself up. You mumble a “thanks” that you’re sure no one heard and stand on the green tape in the middle of the dome. It was even bigger on the inside. Incredibly intimidating.

You couldn’t see any of his other features, but his deep blue eyes met yours instantly. He winks and you're not sure how you know, but you can tell he’s smiling under his helmet. Your cheeks blaze red as you divert your eyes.

Maybank revs the engine on his bike and the crowd outside goes crazy. He accelerates, building momentum as he drives around the walls. You jump, caught off guard, the countdown drowned out by the noise. The whirlwind of neon blue lights that outline the bike fly around you in circles. At first the stunts are more careful, staying quite a large distance away from you as he rides up and down the walls of the dome. In an instant he’s closer, almost parallel with you. If he reached out he could grab your arm. The thought alone makes you feel nauseous. Everything starts to blur as you feel yourself panic more and more. You needed to get out of here. The biker gets closer, making the crowd gasp and your hands shoot up to cover your face. No, no, no, no, no. “Hey, hey!” Someone yells. You slowly drop your hands from your face to see that everything has stopped. The music is still playing over the speakers, but the crowd is no longer yelling and the engine of the bike has been turned off. You lift your head to see the rider has removed his helmet and is looking right at you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You shake your head, “No.”

“We can be done.” He answers flatly and you feel yourself getting a little disappointed. Maybe at yourself for giving up so quickly or maybe something else.

“Uhm. We don’t have to be.”

The blond turns back to look at you, “yeah?”

“Yeah. I just… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughs, “I can tell.” His eyes trail down your body before coming back up to your eyes. He doesn’t seem to care that you’ve noticed. “I’m not going to hurt you, ya know?”

“Promise?” you whisper. It felt like a prayer.

He laughs again, his dimples in his cheeks poking through. “Yeah. Promise, pretty girl.”

You nod, suddenly calm, despite the heart attack you’re feeling at the sudden attention.

He runs a hand through his hair as he moves to stand closer to you, making it stick up in all different directions. 

“You can lift your arms,” he says, his hand brushing against my forearm and guiding my arms to extend above my head, “If you want. Or you can keep them straight against your side. I’m just gonna go for a few more minutes.”

“Mhmm” you hum, nodding.

“Yeah? You’re good?” 

“I’m good.” you confirm and watch as he smiles back at you. He gently brushes a strand of hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear before speaking gently, “Okay, princess. Keep your arms up nice and pretty for me, yeah?”

He pulls on his helmet again and climbs back onto his bike. You straighten up, a sudden rush of determination to get through this. Or to at least keep his attention on you.  There is a clear countdown this time before he starts off, going in circles around you. He starts to pick up speed, flying around, but his eyes lock on you in the middle. One of his arms stretches out to your waist, his palm gently brushing against you as he drives. You can’t help but smile now, heart all but lurching out of your chest. When he pulls back, you quickly lock your arms back at your side. Just like he promised, you’re only in there for a little bit more as he does his last trick. He moves from being parallel to you, to riding up and around the globe, flipping upside down for a second before repeating it on the other side of you. He does this a few more times as the crowd cheers him on. 

When he finishes, he slows to a stop and gestures to you. You awkwardly wave back to the crowd as they cheer even louder. 

You can see Sarah waiting at the entrance to the dome, practically jumping up and down as she screams. You laugh fondly and move to exit. A hand hovers on your back as you step out, landing on the mat with a thud. “That was awesome! You’re insane!” Sarah yells. The biker climbs out behind you, pulling his helmet off and handing it to his team.  “See, told ‘ya I wouldn’t hurt you.” He winks and you practically melt. He extends his hand for you to shake, “JJ,” he says softly. You smile back and take his hand.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

15 🤩

i am MORE then happy to share more self indulgent head canons with lil to NO promptin!! AGH TY FOR THE ASK LOVE!!

1.) Almost the entire gang has had at least one piercin' at some point or another. Soda has his left lobe, Steve has his right cartilage, Two had his snake bite, Dallas had his eyebrow, 'n Johnny has his tongue. They TRIED to pierce Pony's nose but Darry came home halfway through to Pony with just a needle through his nose BAWLIN'. Two's got infected 'n Dallas got aggravated with his. Johnny 'n the gang forget about his all the time until Johnny sticks his tongue out 'n they're like AGH WHAT IS oh never mind that's right. For a while though that man was in the TRENCHES. had to relearn how to talk entirely.

2.) all the boys have what's called a 'special' that refers to a certain behavior. The Ponyboy Special is retellin' a story 'n leavin' out all the parts that make him look bad (specifically when he's in trouble) the Darry Special is pushin' too hard when he's already beat. They'll catch him tryin' to do laundry asleep on his feet 'n someone'll shout HEY THE DARRY SPECIAL IS ON 'n they'll all manhandle him down into the armchair (he claims he's fine 'n is asleep in 5 minutes). The Two-Bit Special is drinkin' before noon. 'N so on.

3.) Darry 'n Dallas are the only early risers. Dallas will fall asleep at three 'n wake up at five 'n somehow beat Darry into the kitchen in the mornin' meanwhile Darry is goin' to bed PROMPTLY at ten. Ten thirty on the weekends that man is an early bird 'n he is takin' his ass to BED. Dallas just runs on three hours of sleep 24/7. They're all waitin' for him to pass out in the middle of doin' somethin' one day.

4.) Dallas manages to be a pseudo brother to both Pony 'n Curly 'n is as much a freeloader at the Shepard's as he is the Curtis' but where Pony brings out a softer side in him Dallas has NO problem sendin' Curly through a wall. They scrap ALL the time. Dallas has scars from where Curly has bit him (the fucker) 'n Curly lost ('n swallowed) six baby teeth as a result of Dallas. Picture Steve 'n Pony but significantly more feral. They always go out for Dairy Queen after.

5.) If Soda had never torn his ACL he would have made it out of Tusla. He would have joined up with a rodeo 'n made it pretty damn far as a bronc rider. 'N he loves it. Really he does. But there's always a part of him that doesn't fit right. Soda is a stayer that went. Darry was supposed to be a goer that stayed. Even in another universe there is a tragedy there.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 16

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : WARNINGS WILL GIVE SPOILERS !!! MDNI, mentions of drugs, selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, guns, shooting

Chris’s POV

I didn’t wake up until 3pm, sunlight streaming through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. My body ached like I’d been hit by a truck, but the heaviness wasn’t just physical, it was mental too. The events from last night lingered in my mind like smoke, refusing to clear.

Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I saw a notification from Y/n, her name lighting up the screen. She’d replied to my late night text at 7am , like the early riser she was:

"Probably won’t be finished until 6, but I’d love to meet you after! Can’t wait. xx"

A grin spread across my face as I read her message. Y/n had quickly become the best part of my life, the one constant that kept me grounded in the midst of the chaos. Knowing she wanted to see me, even after last night when I’d left her house abruptly, made me feel.. normal. Like I was just a guy with a girlfriend, looking forward to dinner or a drive. Not a dealer. Not someone neck deep in this life.

But then my mind shifted, and I couldn’t help but think about Nate. He’d been heavy on my thoughts since the funeral, and not just because of Danny. After last night’s incident at the docks, I wondered if he knew what had happened. Did Vince fill him in? Did he know I’d gotten into a fight with an H Block, or was he still in the dark?

I sat up, tossing my phone on the bed and running my hands through my hair. I needed to see him. Nate wasn’t the type to reach out, even when things got tough, but I couldn’t let him spiral alone. The weight of Danny’s death was already crushing enough. Add in everything else going on with the cartel, and I knew he was probably close to his breaking point.

Grabbing my jacket, I slipped on my sneakers and headed out the door. Driving to Nate’s place, I tried to clear my mind, but the tension in my chest wouldn’t go away. I kept thinking about last night, the way I fucked up that H Block guy, the adrenaline that surged as Vince encouraged me to keep going. That’s what haunted me most. I’d crossed a line, one that was getting harder to ignore.

When I pulled up to Nate’s place, something felt.. off. I spotted a black sedan parked a couple of houses down, its windows tinted. It wasn’t a car I recognized, and that alone was enough to make me suspicious. Nate’s neighborhood wasn’t exactly known for flashy cars, most of the people here drove old Hondas or pickups.

I stayed in the car for a moment, watching. No movement. No one got in or out of the sedan. Maybe someone swung by to pay respects to Danny. Maybe it was a cop since Danny’s death was now a murder investigation, after all. Or maybe it was something worse, like someone from H Block scoping out Nate’s place.

Shaking my head, I grabbed my phone and sent Nate a quick text:

"I’m outside. Want to go for a ride?"

No reply. I waited a minute, then another, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Finally, the front door creaked open, and Nate stepped out. The sun was low on the horizon, casting the street in an orange glow as he walked toward the car. He looked rough, dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped like the weight of the world was crushing him.

I nodded at him, and he climbed into the passenger seat without a word.

“What’s up?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb.

He shrugged, staring out the window. “Not much.”

I glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood. “You look like shit, man.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s been a shit week.”

“How you holding up?” I asked, trying to break the silence.

Nate shrugged, still not looking at me. “Same as you’d expect. Just tired of everything.”

I didn’t push him, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. After a minute, I asked, “You figure out who it was that tried to make the hit at the funeral?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Yeah. But no idea who he’s connected to. Guess he thought he’d make a name for himself, going after us at Danny’s funeral of all places.” He paused, clenching his fists. “But he’s gone now. Fled the city. No one can find him, but I’m not worried. He’ll show his face eventually. When he does, I’ll handle it.”

I didn’t doubt that. Nate wasn’t the kind of guy to let things go, not when it came to family.

“What about Danny?” I asked carefully, keeping my eyes on the road as I drove. “You guys got any leads on his murder? Pieced together what happened that night?”

Nate leaned back in his seat, running a hand over his face. “Not much, but Vince gave me some details. Danny was found outside the warehouse at the docks.” He turned to look at me, his face grim. “Vince was one of the first on the scene, but he couldn’t stay. He got some of the guys to move Danny’s body before the cops could get there and start poking around.”

My stomach twisted. “Why’d they move him?”

Nate scoffed, his tone bitter. “Why do you think? The warehouse is full of supplies. Cops start sniffing around there, and it’s game over for us. Vince didn’t have a choice. Told everyone to play it like Danny was shot somewhere else, that they drove him to the hospital but died on the way.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel, my knuckles going white. The thought of Danny’s body being dragged around like that made me sick.

Nate continued, his voice low and cold. “Hospital bought it. Cops bought it too, at least for now. They think he was killed in the middle of nowhere. But we know the truth.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating. My mind raced, piecing together the events. “Say it was one of those H Block fucks” I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. “What if someone from their crew was trying to break into the warehouse and Danny just happened to be there at the wrong time?”

Nate frowned, turning to me with suspicion. “What makes you say that?”

I hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth. “Because I ran into one of them there last night” I admitted, my voice low. “Caught some guy trying to steal our supplies. Vince told me to handle it, so I did. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? If they’re getting bold enough to hit the funeral, they’d try the warehouse too.”

Nate’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with anger. “You think it’s connected?”

“I don’t know” I admitted. “But it feels too close to ignore.”

Nate didn’t say anything for a while, his gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun dipped lower. “We’ll find out” he said finally, his voice hard. “One way or another, we’ll find out who did this. And when we do..”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. The fury in his voice said it all.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. The weight of what had happened was sinking in deeper, but I couldn’t let it consume me. Not now. Not when there was still so much left to unravel.

"Wait, the fuck were you doing at the docks last night? Thought you had a dinner to attend?" Nate says, raising an eyebrow as I pull into a gas station.

I sigh, pulling the car to a stop near the pump. "And I did attend that dinner" I reply, stepping out. "But Vince pulled me out early. Needed me for a run. Ended up partaking in a physical fight, too. Exactly how I wanted to spend my Thursday night."

Nate lets out a dry laugh, leaning back in his seat. "Makes two of us in physical fights last night. At least I didn’t get my lip split open." Nate smirks, grabbing at my face.

I smirk, rubbing my thumb over the slight sting still lingering on my lip. "I thought you said the guy fled town? Who the hell were you fighting?"

"Three H Block runners" Nate says nonchalantly. "Teenagers. Just needed to let some anger out. Came out without a scratch."

Typical Nate. I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head as I open the door and step out of the car. He doesn’t do things halfway. I start pumping gas, my mind replaying the fight from last night. As much as I wanted to forget it, the tension wouldn’t leave my body.

After filling up, I walk into the convenience store to pay. The fluorescent lights buzz above as I hand over a twenty and grab a bottle of water for the road. Stepping back outside, my eyes instinctively scan the lot.

That’s when I notice it. a black sedan parked by the pumps a few spaces away. It’s the same type I saw near Nate’s house earlier. My stomach twists.

Has to be a coincidence, I think to myself, trying to shake off the paranoia. Now that I’ve seen one, I’m probably just noticing them everywhere.

The thought lingers, though, as I slide back into the driver’s seat. I glance at the time. 5:30pm. Almost time to pick up Y/n.

"You need me to bring you anywhere before I drop you off?" I ask Nate casually, adjusting my rearview mirror.

"Where you headed?" he asks, cracking his window and lighting a cigarette.

"I'm picking my girlfriend up at six." I say, sliding it in with just the right amount of smugness.

Nate’s head snaps toward me so fast I almost laugh. "Girlfriend?!" he repeats, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You kept that quiet."

I grin, knowing exactly how surprised he must be. "Didn’t come up."

He shakes his head, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. "Man, you soft now, huh?” 

“Maybe” I chuckle. “But if any questions are ever asked about this, say you and I got into it okay?” I say pointing at my lip.

“Is that what you told her?” Nate raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah man, couldn’t tell her I had someone pull a knife on me. She’d flip. She doesn’t know about the whole incident at the funeral, fuck, she didn’t even know about the funeral. You love to carry a knife on you too, so it check out in my brain.” I say shaking my head.

“God you’re in this thing a couple weeks and couples therapy is already calling.” Nate laughs.

Y/n’s POV

The courtroom had been stifling all day, and I was practically counting the minutes until I could leave. My phone buzzed just as I was tucking my notes and books into my bag.

"I'm out front. Take your time x."

A smile broke across my face as I read Chris’s message. This day had dragged on relentlessly, and I couldn’t wait to see him. Just the thought of being in his company made everything feel lighter.

I made my way out of the courtroom and through the courthouse doors, the crisp evening air hitting me as I spotted Chris’s sleek Mercedes parked at the curb. He looked out through the passenger window and his face lit up when he saw me approaching.

As soon as I got in the passenger seat, I leaned over to kiss him, melting into his warmth.

“It’s so nice to see you” he said softly, his eyes holding mine for a moment longer than usual.

“It’s nice to see you too” I replied, buckling my seatbelt.

He started the car, the low hum of the engine filling the space. “Where do you want to get food from?” he asked, glancing at me.

I didn’t have to think long. “Honestly? I’m really feeling McDonald’s right now.”

Chris laughed, his expression a mix of amusement and fondness. “If McDonald’s is what my girl wants, McDonald’s is what my girl gets.”

I couldn’t help but grin. It wasn’t fancy, but I loved how he always made me feel like my choices mattered.

We headed to the nearest McDonald’s, sliding into the drive thru line. After some playful back and forth, we decided on a 20 piece chicken nugget meal with sweet and sour sauce, paired with two Pepsi’s.

When we reached the pickup window, the smell of fresh fries filled the car, making my stomach growl.

“You better not eat all the fries before we park” I teased, reaching for a couple as he handed me the bag.

“Hey, we both know fries have a lifespan of, like, five minutes” Chris shot back, smirking as he grabbed a few for himself.

We drove to Castle Island, the sky was now pitch black. Chris pulled into a quiet spot near the water, cutting the engine. The world felt still except for the occasional rustle of the trees and the distant sound of waves.

We opened the bag and dug in, alternating between nuggets and fries, laughing as we both reached for the sweet and sour sauce at the same time. It was simple, but moments like this with Chris always felt special.

“This is perfect” I said, leaning back against the seat, the salty tang of fries lingering on my tongue.

Chris glanced over at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “You make everything perfect.”

I felt my cheeks flush as I nudged him playfully. “You’re so cheesy.”

He chuckled, but his eyes softened. “Only for you.”

Chris smirked, tossing another nugget into his mouth as he turned to look at me. "I love having you as my passenger princess," he said, his tone light and teasing.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Passenger princess? Really?"

"Yup" he said with a grin. Then his expression shifted slightly, like he’d been meaning to bring something up. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, do you drive?"

I couldn’t help but laugh at the question. "Can I? Yes. Can I legally? No."

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Wait, what? Why not?"

"My driving test is coming up soon" I admitted. "I never really needed to know how to drive until we moved out of the city. So I only started learning recently. But honestly, the thought of the test freaks me out."

Chris chuckled, his smile softening. "That’s kinda cute. Don’t stress about it, though. And, for the record, I have no problem driving you around. I’d take you over Nate any day."

I grinned at his playful jab. "Speaking of Nate, have you talked to him since the whole argument?"

Chris nodded, his eyes flicking to the water outside the windshield before meeting mine again. "Uh yeah.. I was actually with him before I came to meet you. Everything’s cool now."

I nodded back, taking in his response. I hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of me. There were questions I’d been holding back for a while, and now felt like the right time to ask. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course" he said, tilting his head slightly, his expression open.

"So.. in the gang or whatever you call it," I started cautiously, "is there anyone else like you and Nate in it?"

Chris paused, wiping his hands on a napkin before leaning back in his seat. "Age wise, you mean?"

I nodded, watching him closely as he mulled over the question.

He shrugged, his tone casual, but there was a faint edge to it. "Nah, not really. It’s just me and Nate in our 20’s. He’s the youngest, and I’m only a year older. Everyone else is in their thirties or forties or older."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Seriously? Just the two of you? That’s.. a little unexpected."

Chris considers this for a moment, looking out toward the horizon before turning back to me. "Yeah it can be weird sometimes. But Nate and I stick together. It’s not like the older guys treat us badly or anything, they just see us as the runners, not the ones calling the shots."

I nod again, chewing on his words, a tangle of thoughts forming in my mind. I decide to push some of the heavier ones aside, for now, focusing on enjoying this moment with him.

"You and Nate have always been close, though."

Chris smiled faintly, his eyes softening at the mention of his best friend. "Yeah, we are. He’s like a brother to me. Sometimes I just wish he’d get out of this life, you know? But I don’t think he’ll ever change his ways."

I wanted to tell him that he deserved better, that they both did, but I held back. Instead, I leaned into the moment, savoring the way he’s starting to open up to me.

"Well" I said softly, "I’m glad you two are okay now. And for what it’s worth, I like seeing this side of you, open, honest. It makes me feel closer to you."

Chris looked at me, his expression shifting to something tender and unguarded. "You’re the only person I feel like I can talk to like this" he admitted.

My heart swelled at his words, and I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his.

We sat there in the car, the last of the fries growing cold as the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. But deep down, I felt like something had shifted between us, a step closer to understanding each other’s worlds, even if they were still so far apart.

"Can we go back.. to yours?" I asked softly, trying to keep my voice light, not wanting to come across as invasive. "I mean, I want to make the effort with your family, like you have with mine."

There was a brief silence before Chris responded, his voice a little uncertain. "Uh.. yeah, sure."

His hesitation wasn’t lost on me, and I quickly added, "If it’s too much, it’s okay, I just thought I could get to know your world a little better."

I saw his lips tighten slightly, and he turned toward me with an almost apologetic look. "No, it’s fine. It’s just.. it’s nothing compared to what you live in. Your house is so pristine and presentable.. whereas Uncle Jerry’s place, well.." His voice trailed off, the words left unfinished, as if he didn’t want to insult his uncle’s place.

My heart tugged at the mention of his uncle. I knew Chris had a complicated relationship with his family. He’d told me before that after his own family cut him off, he’d been staying with Uncle Jerry. I reached over, placing my hand gently on his arm. "That doesn’t matter to me, Chris. I just want to be with you, wherever that is."

He looked at me, his eyes softening, and I could see a faint relief in his expression. But then, I felt the need to add something else, something I’d been thinking about for a while. "And besides, I was thinking, when you’re out of all this, maybe you could try reaching out to your family. Maybe try rebuilding those connections."

Chris’s face hardened for a second, and he seemed to retreat inward. I held my breath, not sure if I’d crossed a line, but then he exhaled slowly, looking out the window.

"I don’t know, Y/n" he said quietly. "I dont know if they’ll ever accept me back. Not after everything." His tone was guarded, but I could hear the underlying pain.

I squeezed his arm, my voice gentle. "You never know. People change, Chris. And you’ve changed, too. I just think, maybe.. they might not be so quick to turn their backs on you if they see that."

He didn’t answer right away, and the silence between us stretched for a few moments. I wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but I didn’t press further. I could see he needed time to process it.

Instead, I smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood. "But hey, it’ll be an adventure, right? Going to Uncle Jerry’s place?"

Chris smirked, his eyes flicking toward me. "Yeah, if you call it that. You’re really sure you want to see where I grew up?"

I nodded, my expression sincere. "Absolutely. I want to know all of you, Chris."

A genuine smile spread across his face then, and he leaned over to kiss my forehead lightly. "Alright. Let’s go then."

We both settled into a comfortable silence as he started the car again, the city slipping away as we headed toward his uncle’s place. And though I didn’t know exactly what would happen when we arrived, I knew one thing for sure, I was ready to be there for him, just like he had been for me.

Chris’ POV

As we pulled up outside my uncle Jerry’s place on Medford Street, I couldn’t help but shake my head. The house didn’t exactly scream "homey" and in the low light, it looked even worse than usual. "It looks like a right trap house, doesn’t it?" I said, laughing under my breath, but my words carried that familiar bitterness.

Y/n, always the optimist, tried to reassure me. "It’s not that bad" she insisted, but I could tell by the look on her face that she was still taking in the sight of the place.

I just hoped Jerry wasn’t asleep on the couch. I wouldn't want to subject her to that, she didn’t need to see the way he lived. Shit, I barely could stand it myself. I’d hoped he’d be passed out in his room, preferably not stirring when we came in.

I reached over and unlocked the front door, the sound of the key turning in the lock echoing through the stillness of the night. The house was dark, which was perfect. The less Y/n saw of the chaos, the better. Exactly what I wanted, since you can’t see shit.

We stepped inside, the heavy smell of old furniture and stale air hitting me immediately. The house was quiet, too quiet. Jerry’s room was at the back, and the living room was to the left, with the usual mess of old magazines, fast food containers, and a busted-up couch. I wanted to get us to my room as quickly as possible, where things were.. more put together.

Since Jerry’s place was a bungalow, there wasn’t much to navigate. It was basically a long stretch with rooms off to the side. I led Y/n to the right, to the first door that opened to my room. I flicked the light switch, the soft glow illuminating the space, and I motioned for Y/n to come inside.

"This is where I crash" I said, trying to sound casual, but there was a tinge of pride in my voice. Compared to the rest of the house, my room was pristine and presentable. I kept it clean, I had to, if only to feel like I had something that was mine.

Y/n took a moment to look around, and I could see her eyes soften as she surveyed the room. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. A small bed, a desk neatly organised with books, and a few pictures hang on the wall. Nothing fancy, but it was a place where I could think, breathe, and for the first time in a while, I felt comfortable with her being there.

"Make yourself at home" I said, closing the door behind us. The place was quieter, calmer than the chaos outside, and it felt like a bit of peace.

I watched as Y/n moved around the room, touching a few things here and there, but not too much, respecting the space. I felt a sense of pride surge through me. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was a part of me, and in that moment, it was enough.

Y/n had sat down beside me on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked under her as she glanced around my small, dimly lit room. I could feel her eyes lingering on the few personal touches I had scattered around, nothing flashy, just things that made this place feel like mine. And for some reason, having her here with me felt different than anyone else ever had.

"You know" she said softly, breaking the silence. "I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately."

I turned to look at her, my heart tightening at the way she spoke. "What do you mean?" I asked, leaning back slightly on the bed to face her more fully.

She shifted, pulling her knees to her chest as she glanced down, then back at me. "I mean.. us. What we’re doing. What it all looks like in the long run. You know, once this.. all this.. is behind you." She gestured vaguely, the weight of what I was involved in hanging heavy between us. "I can’t help but picture us, together, in the future. Somewhere.. where we can just breathe. You and me."

My chest tightened, a lump forming in my throat. I knew what she meant, and honestly, I’d never really let myself think about it, about a future, about a life with her outside of everything that dragged me down. But hearing her say it out loud made it feel real. It made it seem possible.

"I’d like that" I said softly, my voice hoarse, vulnerable. "I’d like to have a future with you. Somewhere.. just us. Away from all this shit."

Her eyes softened, and she moved closer, settling in beside me on the bed. There was a quiet kind of understanding between us, the unspoken bond growing stronger with each moment. She leaned into me, her head finding its place against my shoulder. "We’ll get there" she whispered. "We just have to take it one step at a time, right?"

I nodded, my hand finding its way to her back, pulling her a little closer, the warmth of her body grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed. My hand slid to her side, fingers gently tracing the curve of her waist as we sat in the comfortable silence.

Then, without even thinking about it, I turned to her. Her face was close, the soft curve of her lips tempting, and before I could stop myself, I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, like we were both still figuring out what this was, what we meant to each other. But the longer it lasted, the deeper it became, until there was no space left between us.

I felt her hands move to my chest, pushing me gently backwards, and before I knew it, she was straddling me, her legs draped on either side, her breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps against my lips. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of heat flood through me, my heart racing as I looked up at her. There was a wildness to the moment, an urgency, but it felt right, like everything had led up to this. To us.

Her hands moved to my shoulders, then down to my chest, her touch sending electricity through me. My hands found their way to her hips, pulling her in closer, the warmth of her body against mine driving me crazy. But just as I was lost in the moment, just as everything felt like it was finally falling into place, the sudden beep of my phone broke through the haze.

I groaned, pulling away from her reluctantly as I reached for my phone. The alarm was a reminder - a notification for something I couldn’t ignore.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, silencing the alarm. My stomach tightens at the reminder.

“Shit” I mutter.

“Is everything okay?” Y/n asks, tilting her head slightly, her soft expression making me hesitate.

“Yeah.. it’s.. work” I answer, fumbling for the right words.

“Oh” she says, standing up from the bed. I can tell she’s disappointed, though she’s trying to hide it.

“What do you have to do?” she asks quietly, her voice almost reluctant.

I sigh. “I’ve got to deliver some weed. Just a fifty bag, so it’s not much. I can drop you home first, and then go do it. The dude knows me, so he won’t care if I’m a little late.”

“Yeah, that’s okay” she says with a small nod, but her shoulders sag just enough for me to notice. I hate this. Hate that I keep doing this to her.

We make our way out of my house and back to the car. I unlock it, and we both slide into our seats. The engine hums to life as I glance over at her. She’s staring out the window, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

“Have you made any attempts to try to leave yet?” she asks suddenly, her tone colder than before.

I grip the steering wheel tighter. “No.. not yet” I admit. “I said two weeks because.. because I have to figure out how to get out. It’s not as easy as just walking away.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her silence weighing heavy in the car. Finally, she speaks, her voice low.

“Where’s this going to?”

“Longwood” I reply. “Why?”

“You have to go through Longwood to get to my place,” she says, glancing over at me. “Just deliver this off, then drop me home. At least it gives me a bit more time with you.”

I hesitate. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m just throwing you home, either.”

“I’m sure” she says firmly. “Put it this way, it’s probably one of the last runs you’ll ever do, right? I’m glad to be here, ending this part of your life with you.” She gives me a small, reassuring smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

The drive to Longwood is quiet. Occasionally, Y/n hums softly to the radio, but I can tell her mind is elsewhere. Mine is too.

When we arrive, I park a little down the street, avoiding the house. No way am I letting anyone see her here. I text the dude to let him know I’m here, and he replies almost immediately, telling me to meet him around the side of his place. I glance at Y/n sitting in the car, her fingers absentmindedly drumming on her knee as she stares out the window. I glance at her. “I’ll be quick.”

She nods, giving me a faint smile, though the worry in her eyes is unmistakable.

I lock the car behind me as I step out, tucking the fifty bag into my jacket pocket. Walking down the street, I keep glancing over my shoulder, my eyes flickering back to where the car sits. I hate leaving her like this, even for a few minutes.

I round the corner of the guy’s house and stop, positioning myself at the edge where I can still see my car. It’s a habit, maybe paranoia, but with Y/n sitting inside, I can’t take any chances. I lean against the wall, trying to shake the nagging feeling in my chest. I shouldn’t have brought her with me.

The dude comes out from the back of the house, his hoodie pulled up over his head. He nods at me as he approaches.

“Yo” he greets casually, pulling a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and handing it to me.

I slip him the bag of weed in exchange. “All good?”

“Yeah, man. Easy.” he says with a grin before disappearing back into the shadows.

I turn to leave, relief washing over me. Simple. Quick. Just the way I wanted it.

As I step back onto the street, I hear the low rumble of a car creeping slowly toward me. My heart sinks.

A black sedan rolls up, its headlights off. It stops just a few feet from my car, parked awkwardly in the middle of the road.

A black sedan.

Again?

Something’s wrong.

I freeze, watching as the passenger window rolls down ever so slightly. My breath catches when I see it – a hand, pale against the dark, gripping the barrel of a gun.

“Fuck” I whisper, my eyes darting to the car where Y/n is sitting.

Before I can move, the first shot shatters the silence of the night, followed by the sound of breaking glass. My car’s back window explodes into shards, and I hear Y/n’s muffled scream from inside. The sedan’s tires screech as it takes off, leaving the street in chaos.

Fuck. Y/n.

a/n: BUCKLE THE FUCK UP BITCHES

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 9 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @mattsredgaphoodie

[littlelionwriting]

A New Surprise Part 2

A New Surprise Part 1

I finally wrote part 2 for this that I had been planning… almost 2 years ago. But here it is! I wrote it out on paper first cause I was at work and holy shit this turned out a lot longer than I thought it would. I found the elvish on https://www.elfdict.com/. The point of view changes a bit between Halsin, Astarion, and the reader. I went off my own birth experience for a bit of this. I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Halsin and Astarion prepare for the new arrival and assist you in the ways they know how through your pregnancy while imagining what the future might hold for the three of you all.

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader x Halsin / Astarion x gn!Tav x Halsin

Warnings: Pregnancy, Nicknames (Star, Heart, Darling, Dearest, Lover, Sun and Stars), fears surrounding pregnancy, a lot of fluff, descriptions of childbirth, no use of y/n, Do not use herbs without talking with your midwife/doula/OB

Words: 4,678

Astarion had never had personal experience with someone who was pregnant. Of course, he knew of pregnancy and the general effects it had on a person’s body but being right here and watching it was a new experience.

The first thing to change was the way you smelled, your normal scent becoming almost sweeter if that was possible. The next thing was that your once favorite foods now made you ill and you had a sudden craving for most sweet foods, which he and Halsin made sure to keep in supply. But the one thing that seemed to take Astarion by surprise was the subtle fullness your body started to display. Your face was rounder and your belly had a pleasant plumpness to it when he laid his head in your lap. This fullness only continued as you progressed farther and farther into your pregnancy. He had to say, he enjoyed it honestly.

The next thing to surprise Astarion came while you three were laying in bed to sleep after the long day. He laid to your left while Halsin laid on your right side, and you were right in the middle of them where you belonged. Both you and Halsin had already drifted off to sleep, leaving him to his thoughts as he laid there in the dark. As he watched you sleep he absentmindedly reached out and laid his cool hand over the swell of your belly, stroking it lightly. That is when he felt it, the lightest of flutters against the palm of his hand. For a moment he wrote it off as a fantasy his mind had made up before he felt it again. He stilled his hand as he stared at your belly, it was so light and so minute that if he tried hard enough he could convince himself that this was a dream. But he knew it wasn’t a dream. Something akin to pride rose in Astarion’s chest and threatened to overwhelm him as he leaned forward to your belly.

“Hello, little one.” For the first time since learning you were carrying a child this felt real for Astarion. It was no longer just something you three talked about and made silly plans, it was tangible and he could feel the child you were growing moving under his palm. He knew that the likely hood of the child being of his blood was low, so low that it would be almost unheard of. A dhampir child to be born without… unsavory assistance was not something that happened. But in this moment he wished for a child that would be a mix of him and you.

“No matter.” He whispered softly before laying a small kiss to the crest of your belly. “You’ll be loved all the same.”

***

Halsin was always an early riser. Ever since he was small he could remember waking up with the sun and running wild before anyone else had awoken. He let out a yawn as he opened his eyes, grazing upon yours and Astarion’s sleeping forms. He smiled before sitting up and stretching his tired muscles before rising from the bed and quietly preparing for the day. He glanced back at your and Astarion’s sleeping forms, you cuddled into the pale elf’s chest and his arm wrapped protectively around your center. His eyes lingered on your belly before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your temple and then a kiss to Astarion’s cheek.

He left the bedroom and walked through the living area, his fingertips gently tracing over his most recent wood carving project, a cradle for the child you were currently growing. At the head he had carved a symbol of the Oak Father for protection and at the foot of the cradle he had began carving little details of the adventures you had led him and the others on. They were rough and needed to be polished but they would be done before the child’s arrival. He frowned softly as he thought about the impending arrival. There was still time but it was already half way through summer and soon the winds would change with the weather growing cold as fall settled in. If he was correct they would arrive just at the beginning of fall. There was much work to be done to prepare.

Halsin sighed softly to himself before walking to the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast. Even if you could not keep down much, he would still supply you with a good meal. He lit the fire and started to cook a simple breakfast for you. As he cooked his mind started to wander to all the different tasks to preform for the day and as his mind wandered through the different tasks he could not help thinking about the child growing in your belly. If he was correct about the child to be born in the fall he should make sure they had plenty of blankets and warm clothes, He could ask Astarion to check their home and make sure there were no drafts where the cold winter air could sneak in. He should make sure there is plenty of firewood cut in advance to make sure they would not run low. As he ran through all the tasks for before the child would arrive he started to imagine what the child would look like. Perhaps your nose or eyes? Would they have Astarion’s silver hair or would they be tan like himself? Would they have a head full of curls? The speculations made him chuckle softly to himself. He was already wishing they were here in his arms.

He could not wait to show them the world, teach them to really see with not just their eyes but with their heart. To show the child that even in the dead of winter the world was still alive. To show them the first green buds of spring. He could see in his mind a tiny little toddler with your eyes and fearless spirit, babbling and wandering around while the three of you watch over them. Oh what a close eye they will need, what trouble they will get into. He let out a soft laugh as he thought about what a dangerous combination it was for you, him, and Astarion to bring a child into the world. A tiny, wonderful child who would want for nothing.

He was almost done cooking when he heard movement from the bedroom, someone beginning to rise with the day. He looked over his shoulder at the doorway, seeing Astarion standing there in his sleep clothes with his arms crossed and leaning against the door frame.

“Good morning, my Star. I thought I would prepare some food for our Heart while they rested.” Astarion nodded his head with a smile before pushing off against the door frame and walking over to Halsin. He wrapped his arms around the larger elf’s waist and leaned his head against Halsin’s back right between his shoulder blades, taking a deep breath to allow his scent surround him. Halsin let a soft rumble escape him as he finished breakfast before putting his hands over Astarion’s, gently rubbing his knuckles with his thumb.

“Is there something on your mind, my Heart?” Astarion let the question hang in the air between them for a moment before letting out a soft hum, nuzzling into Halsin’s back.

“I felt them last night.” This piqued Halsin’s interest, raising an eyebrow as he glanced over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“The babe. I could feel them fluttering against my hand while the both of you were sleeping. It was so soft, like a little bird.” Astarion tightened his grip around the elf before letting out a soft sign. “I have never felt anything quite like it.” Halsin felt a burst of joy in his chest at the thought that Astarion got the chance to feel the growing life within you. Not only get to feel it but be the first between them to feel it.

“My Heart, that is great news. They already know your voice. I must say I am quite jealous you got the chance and I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” A soft, sleepy voice called out from the bedroom door causing them both to look over and see you rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Astarion got the chance to feel the baby last night while we were sleeping. Isn’t that wonderful?” You gave them a sleepy smile and giggled before waddling over to the both of them. Astarion released Halsin and they both took you into a hug, wrapping their arms around you and each other.

“They feel like a little fish to me. Like they are flapping their little fins.” Astarion let out a laugh before kissing your cheek. Halsin followed suit and kissed your head before ushering you to sit down.

“I feel like I should be jealous. The two of you having the chance to feel them and I haven’t yet. I will need to try harder if I’m going to be their favorite.” You let out a laugh as he put the breakfast he prepared in front of you while Astarion rolled his eyes smiling.

“As if. If anyone will be the favorite it is going to be me. Now let the bear feed you, darling.” Halsin let out a bark of laughter before squeezing your hand. Halsin and Astarion took seats of their own before they began chatting of the day ahead.

***

The rest of your pregnancy progressed without complication beyond the normal aches and not being able to see your own feet over the large belly bump. And with the fact you could no longer see your own feet Halsin and Astarion had taken to not leaving your side and becoming protective of you in such a way you would have thought impossible. Neither elf would let you do so much as carry a basket of laundry to wash due to your ‘condition’. You had half expected such behavior from Halsin but Astarion surprised you be being just as bad with refusing to leave you to your own devices. Even chores you new he hated he was right beside you assisting. One such chores was weeding the garden, he would be right beside you, the ring you had given him to protect him from the sun gleaming on his left ring finger, pulling up the offending weed and getting dirt under his nails. He did not hide the look of distaste on his face but he did it without complaint and made sure you were not overexerting yourself.

The evenings would be spent sitting in front of the fire in the living area, Halsin sitting next to you and whispering stories in elvish to the child inside your belly while you rested. Astarion sitting beside you and holding your hand in his. When you would retire for the night you would have Halsin’s strong arms wrapped around you while Astarion’s hand rested on the swell of your belly, gently rubbing it in the hope of feeling a kick as he recounted your past adventures (with only sight embellishments).

It was one such night were you three were laying in bed together that you watched him pet your belly in silence. You watched as his eyes remain trained on your belly but he remained quiet.

“No story tonight, my Star?” You reached forward and gently rubbed his cheek with the back of your hand. “What is on your mind?” His eyes flickered from your belly to your face then back to your belly.

“We’re getting closer to their arrival.” His voice was soft and just above a whisper. He was right, you knew that. You were quickly approaching the end of your pregnancy and the first winds of winter were already starting to settle across the land. You gave him a soft hum of acknowledgment before taking his hand in yours and giving it a soft squeeze.

“Are you worried?” You had expected a scoff, for him to dismiss such a notion in his normal fashion, but instead you were met with only silence settling between you. You waited for him to speak, looking into his ruby eyes.

“Aren’t you?” His grip on your hand tightened, as if he was afraid you would slip away. “I am not naive. I may not have much experience with any of this, with pregnancy or with children but I know… I know that it is scary. It is violent and bloody. You could… something horrible could happen to you. Something could happen to the baby. How are you not afraid?” You let go of Astarion’s hand, reaching up and cupping his face in the palm of your hand. He sighed softly and closed his eyes as he leaned into your touch.

“I’m not afraid.” He opened his eyes and looked up at you in confusion.” I am not afraid because I have you and Halsin. And I know that no matter what happens you both will be there for both me and the baby. When I’m with you two, I have nothing to be afraid of.” You leaned forward and gently kissed him. His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed softly into the kiss as he covered your hand with his own, giving it a light squeeze. When you broke away from each other you gave him a kind smile.

“Let us get some sleep, my Star. We have nothing left to fear tonight.” Astarion nodded and watched as you closed your eyes. He listened to your breathing slow and he could tell you had drifted off to sleep.

***

It was the first days of fall when you woke up very uncomfortable, feeling pressure and something that felt akin to cramps in your stomach. You let out a soft groan as you slowly sat up, rubbing your belly. You took a deep breath before slowly getting out of bed and dressing yourself for the day. You could smell food and hear the crackle of a fire, alerting you that both Halsin and Astarion had already risen for the day. You waddled out of the bedroom to the living area and saw Astarion sitting beside the fire with a book in his hand. His eyes flickered from his book to you before he closed the book and rose to his feet, frowning.

“Are you alright, Lover? You seem… uncomfortable.” You could not help but laugh which turned into a soft whine as you felt another contraction pass through you.

“Terribly uncomfortable. I think things have gotten a move on.” He let out a soft tsk before walking over to you and assisting you in sitting down.

“Little thing must make things difficult, don’t they? Fret not. Let me get you something small to snack on and then I will retrieve Halsin to look in on you.” You nodded your head as he rushed away to the kitchen and brought you a small bowl of berries before disappearing outside where you assumed Halsin was cutting wood for winter. You tried to eat the berries as you breathed through the contractions, waiting for the two elves to return. You heard the door open and your eyes flickered to the doorway to see Halsin walk in with Astarion at his heels.

“Astarion says you are uncomfortable, my Heart?” He walked to you and knelt in front of you, giving you a gentle smile. You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath as another contraction passed. He gave a soft hum before laying his hand on your stomach, gently pressing down. His eyebrows furrowed before looking back up at you.

“It is possible that this is just your body practicing for the main event but I do not think we should take any chances.” He looked over his shoulder at Astarion. “I believe it wise that we retrieve the midwife, do you agree?” Astarion nodded, walking forward and laying a kiss to your forehead.

“Better safe than sorry. You stay here with our Starlight, Halsin. I will be as quick as my feet can carry me.” He gave you a smile before nodding to Halsin and quickly rushing out of your home. Halsin looked at the bowl in your hands and smiled before taking your hand in his.

“Are you still hungry, my Heart? Or are you sated for now?”

“I’m fine for now.” Halsin nodded his head before standing and offering his hand to you.

“Let us get you back in bed to rest then. If this is just your body practicing then rest will it will stop. If this is the actual event then you will need your strength.” You sighed softly before putting the bowl down and taking his hand, slowly rising to your feet.

“You know, I hate you’re right. Laying in bed all day is not exactly exciting.” Halsin laughed as he helped you walk back to the bedroom, keeping your hand in his and his other hand at the small of your back.

“Apologies, my Sun and Stars. Let me keep you company while you rest.” You hummed in agreement as he helped you into bed before sitting beside you.

***

The discomfort and pain did not pass as the day slowly progressed, instead becoming more apparent as you were kept in bed by Halsin. He did his best to keep you comfortable but there was only so much he could do. He kept you fed, gently rubbed your belly to help the pain ebb away, whispering in elvish to your swollen stomach. You watched him talking to your stomach before letting off a soft groan, leaning your head back against the pillows.

“No one tells you how much of labor that its just waiting! This is just aggravating!” Halsin merely chuckled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your chin.

“I know, my Heart. I wish there was more to do to ease your suffering but I believe it best if we wait for the midwife before I give you anything that may help.” You let out a soft whine, opening your eyes and taking his hand in yours.

“You are here. That is already easing my pain, even if just a little.” Halsin smiled before raising your hand to his lips and laying a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Astarion will be here soon with the midwife. We just need to be patient.” You nodded your head and took a deep breath, settling in to wait.

It was not long before you and Halsin heard the door open and Astarion’s voice call out that he had returned with the midwife. A portly, older woman entered the bedroom and gave you a kind smile, Astarion standing not far behind her.

“Hello, Darling. I understand we have a little babe wanting to make an appearance. Worry not, you’re in good hands.” She looked at Halsin and gave a click of her tongue before moving forward. “Now, young man. Why don’t you and this other gentleman go make us some tea? Dearest will need to keep their strength up for the long road ahead.” Halsin nodded his head, gently kissing your cheek before rising and making room for the midwife. She took her place beside you and gave you a comforting smile.

“Now that those two are taken care of, let us take a look and see how you’re doing, shall we?” You nodded your head and assisted her in lifting the sleep shirt you were wearing, allowing her to gently feel and push your belly. She let out a soft hum and nodded her head before looking up at you, smiling.

“Little one is definitely on the move. The silver haired one told me that you had been having pains since this morning, is that correct?” You sighed softly and nodded your head.

“Yes, I woke up with them.” She gave another understanding hum before going to her bag and pulling out a small bag of dried herbs.

“Well, let us tell this little one to get a move on shall we? Some raspberry leaf tea will help. Add in some sugar for the road ahead to keep your strength up and we will be on the right road.” She disappeared out of the room and you could hear her talking to Halsin and Astarion, ordering them to make some of the tea for you. A few minutes passed before she reappeared with a cup of tea for you and assisted you in drinking it.

“Both of those men are hovering outside. Do you want them in here? Or would you prefer some privacy?” You laughed lightly before looking towards the door.

“Let them in, this is their little one too. They deserve to be here when they arrive.” She gave you a smile before going to the door and allowing them both into the room.

“Now listen here, boys. You will sit beside them and not cause any stress. Do I make myself clear?” Halsin nodded his head and took his spot beside you as Astarion took the other side, taking your hand in his.

“Crystal.” Even though the sarcasm dripped off of Astarion’s words the midwife ignored them and looked at you.

“Now we wait. Sadly babies do not know the meaning of fast till they are good and ready.” You nodded your head and closed your eyes to try and rest.

Soon your contractions started to get worse, stronger and closer together, and according to the midwife everything was going perfectly.

“Oh, you were made for this! Just push with the pains.” You let out a groan, leaning back as Halsin gently dabbed the sweat from your forehead with a damp cloth. Astarion squeezed your hand and laid soft kisses on your knuckles as you squeezed. Once things started moving it felt as if everything was moving in hyper speed, one pain after another, and the midwife ordering you to push. You were only aware of the pain, of Astarion’s hand in yours, and Halsin whispering encouraging words in your ear.

All you could feel was pain, all you could focus on was the pain. The pain and the thought that you were about to bring a wonderful, loved little one into the world. You screamed as you squeezed Halsin and Astarion’s hands with all your strength while you continued to push.

“Almost there, Darling. Almost there.” Astarion whispered softly in your ear as the midwife ordered you to continue to push. You let out another yell before the midwife let out a happy laugh.

“You have a son! Oh, what a pretty boy he is!” She quickly tied off the cord before cutting it. She looked at Halsin and smiled after she wrapped the baby in a towel. “You want to take care of this little one and clean them up while I tend to the rest?” Halsin nodded his head, feeling all words die on his tongue, and kissed your hand before letting go and taking the child in his arms. He quickly cleaned the little boy and held him to his chest, looking over the child. He was tan and had his dark brown hair but when the little one looked up at Halsin there was no denying that those were your eyes.

“He has your eyes, my Heart.” Halsin looked over at you and smiled before sitting back down beside you and holding the child so both you and Astarion could look at him. You smiled and reached up to gently rub the little boy’s cheek before you felt another contraction pass through you, causing you to groan.

“I thought we were past the worst part?” The midwife frowned before examining you and giving you a look of surprise.

“I’m sorry, Darling! It looks like we have a little rogue on our hands! Our work is not over yet!” You looked at her in bewilderment as Astarion and Halsin looked at each other in shock. Two children? It hadn’t even crossed any of your minds. One child was already going to be a hand full and now there was going to be two? You let out another groan and Astarion squeezed your hand as you cried out.

“I can’t do this again! I can’t!” Halsin frowned, taking your hand in his and squeezing.

“You can, my Heart.” Astarion nodded his head and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Look at what you’ve already done, Dearest. I’ve seen you do impossible, improbable things. We have one little boy. Let’s bring their sibling into the world. Shall we?” You looked up at them both and nodded your head before you started to push with the next pains.

Soon another cry was heard through the room and the midwife looked up at you smiling.

“One of each, it seems. A little daughter.” She looked over at Astarion. “This one takes after you it seems. Look at this head of hair!” She quickly wrapped up the little girl and held her up for the three of you to see. She motioned for Astarion to take her, carefully handing her over to him.

Astarion could not believe his eyes as he looked down at the yawning face of the little girl in his arms. Your daughter… his daughter. She had beautiful curls of silver hair on her head and even her long eyelashes were the same pretty silver. She looked up at him with her big eyes before nuzzling into his chest. Astarion could not take his eyes off of her as he took your hand again.

“She has your eyes too, Lover. They both have your eyes.” You gave him a tired smile before looking over at Halsin as he chuckled. Halsin smiled at you before offering the now sleeping boy to you.

“Would you like to hold him?” You nodded your head and took him carefully into your arms, cooing at his sleeping face. The midwife quickly cleaned you up and Halsin showed her out of the warm home to make her way back to the city. When he returned to you both and the two newest additions he found you looking up at Astarion as he just stared down at the sleeping girl in his arms.

“My Star? Are you alright?” Halsin reached over and gently touched his shoulder. Astarion let out a wet laugh, feeling tears starting to pool in his eyes, before looking at the both of you.

“Alright? Alright? I am more than alright. I feel like I have been given everything I never thought I would have.” He let out another laugh, jostling your daughter and causing her to let out a soft whine of discomfort and looking up at Astarion. “And those eyes. Those eyes will set anyone straight if they try to say they aren’t siblings.” He smiled down and laid a soft kiss to her forehead before looking at you both with a smile. You and Halsin both returned the smile with one of your own.

“They are going to need names.” Halsin’s voice was low as he gently rubbed the head of the little boy in your arms.

“Yes. Two bright, strong names to show the world who they are.” You added, glancing over to Astarion who nodded his head. He looked down at the little girl in his arms and was quiet for a moment before looking back up at you and Halsin.

“How about Isilme?” Halsin smiled and nodded his head.

“Moonlight. A pretty name for a beautiful girl. Now what about this little one?” You looked down at the boy in your arm and smiled.

“If she’s the moonlight then he will be our sunlight. Anarion.” Halsin hummed softly in agreement and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“The sun and moon.”

“Our Sun and Moon.” Astarion corrected as he smiled and offered you Isilme to hold along with Anarion. You giggled softly as you smiled down at the children.

“Our family. What more could I ever wish for.”

[cressthebest]

so many people liked my last jegulily headcanons post, so i’m gonna continue doing the lord’s work 😌

• there's a big bookshelf in the living room with a mixture of regulus' books and lily's books. you can easily tell the difference between them. reg has hardback copies that are annotated with thin black fountain pen. lily has cheap paperback copies often bought secondhand, and she only allows the typical wear and tear. she refuses to write in her books, and instead will sticky note the pages.

• lily is demiromantic and it took a hot minute to realize she liked not only james but also regulus. (she lost her absolute shit. i'm picturing this video)

• james is an early riser and will get up to go workout before returning home to his sweethearts that are finally stirring, so after showering he'll often fix them breakfast in bed.

• on that note, autistic regulus refuses to eat anywhere but the table. his reasons list as: 1. good posture and digestion from sitting at the table 2. crumbs in bed are BAD 3. bed is for sleep, table is for eating. 4. idk it's just wrong to eat in bed. like, it's against the rules

• so reg has a little nightstand/side table in the room with a chair for him to eat at so he can eat at the table and lily can stay in bed (and james can join her)

• they are 100% the couple (throuple??) to have matching pajamas. by matching, i mean all the same fabric and pattern, not cut

• they send out obnoxious christmas cards together. james always sets the camera to take the perfect photos and chooses the poses. lily always chooses their outfits, the setting, and designs the cards. regulus is in charge of making sure it's sent out to every last person that they love (and hate)

• lily's parents were confused about her relationship and don't really understand it, but they hesitantly accept it and love her anyways even though they don't get it. and they absolutely adore james and regulus, happy to have some boys in the house

• james' parents took a minute to be cool with the relationship because they were worried that regulus and lily weren't quite happy with the polyamory before realizing that reg and lily were equally in love with each other and james

• both james and regulus gave sirius a key to the house, not realizing the other did that. lily, thinking that james and regulus wouldn't have thought to give sirius a key for emergencies gives him one as well. sirius now has three keys and doesn't tell this to jegulily

[negasonic9403]

Deaf!Peter in the kitchen making breakfast after a battle the day before. He doesn't have his hearing aids in because why would he at 6 in the morning when he doesn't think anyone else is going to be awake, especially since they had debriefed at 1 am, but he had stuck them into his hoodie pocket in case he needed them.

Lazily, he goes through the steps to make pancakes and he makes enough for everyone, which is a whole lot of pancakes. While he's cleaning up, Steve, the early riser he is, comes out of his bedroom with Bucky in tow because they had smelt breakfast. They hadn't expected the newest and youngest hero to be the one making the entire team breakfast, but Steve had to admit he was impressed and a little proud of Queens.

Steve walks into the kitchen and asked Peter from behind, "Peter, do you need any help with breakfast?"

Oblivious to the presence of the two super soldiers as he concentrated on making pancakes, Peter didn't respond since he couldn't hear him and hadn't seen him.

Steve was a bit surprised since the Peter he knew was always so polite, bent over backwards to call all of them by their official titles, was as respectful as possible, and seemed to constantly be talking with members of the team. Taking a step forward, Steve placed his hand on Peter's shoulder and Peter nearly jumped out of skin.

He whipped around to see Steve and Bucky staring at him before saying, "Geez! You can't sneak up on me like that!"

Steve looked at him confused before saying, "We walked in a few minutes ago and I just asked you if you needed help making breakfast. How is that sneaking?"

Peter sort of stares at Steve, trying to figure out what he was saying. His tired body and mind wasn't letting him lip read, which was never a great way to communicate but hey you do what you have to, to the fullest of his ability.

Rubbing his eyes, Peter just held up a hand to stop Steve from speaking anymore as he pulled his hearing aids out of his pocket. He put them in, allowed himself to adjust to the sudden massive influx of noise, and then lowered his hand before saying, "Okay, I'm ready. What did you say Mr. Rogers?"

Steve was a bit taken back because he hadn't known that Queens used hearing aids, but suddenly their interaction, and many others, made a lot more sense. "You're Deaf?"

Peter was confused by Steve's question before saying, "Yes? I have been since I was like five. Why do you—" and then he suddenly remembers that very few of the avengers actually knew he was Deaf since he was a pretty new addition to the regular team. Nodding a bit, he said, "And I'm assuming that never came up in conversation with you since you didn't know."

Up until now, Bucky had been quiet but he took now as an opportunity to interject himself. He waved a hand to get Peter's attention before signing, 'Do you know ASL?'

After the awkward moment of realizing he never told the leader of the avengers he was Deaf, Peter welcomed the distraction and grinned at Bucky's question. He loved talking in and about ASL. In response, he signed, 'Yes, I grew up using English and sign. You know ASL?'

Bucky nodded, 'I had to learn all of the major languages when I was the Winter Soldier. ASL is the 3rd most used language in America so it was one of the ones I learned.'

Steve watches Peter and Bucky talk. He knew some ASL but he was nowhere near fluent. He knew enough to have a conversation with Clint when he didn't want to wear his hearing aids, but that was about it. When Bucky and Peter's conversation came to an end, Steve waved a hand to get Peter's attention back. Slowly, and with awkward and shaking hands, Steve signed, 'If you don't want to wear your hearing aids, you don't have to. We want you to be comfortable.'

Peter was grinning from ear to ear as he took his aids out and put them away. He welcomed the silence as he tried to wrap his tired mind around the fact that two 100+ year old super soldiers just had a conversation with him in ASL as if it was the most normal thing in the world for superheros to do at 6 in the morning running on next to no sleep.

[serve-corps]

Haruhi x RICH reader part two

The club confronts the reader and you show that you're dating <3 part one here part 1

Haruhi awoke in her bed, groggy but conscious. blinking away the sleep in her eyes and rolling over to slam her hand (not really, she couldn't afford to break one) on her alarm clock as it wouldn't shut up. that was her school alarm!-

shooting up from her bed in fear, noticing the time, and running to her wardrobe, pulling out her male uniform only for her to walk past a calendar. Saturday-

oh...

she sat down on the bed she just shot up from and left in a mess. there was a weekend of freedom from not only a daunting school but also a very nosey host club.

Haruhi was trying to emotionally build herself up to deal with the prissy prince of the school who will 100% have a meltdown when she goes into detail on how she's now a 'girl kisser'.

a bit like how Tamaki just casually said to the twins, "You're the homosexual supporting cast", that started a whole fiasco last time.

staring into space for a solid five minutes, she thinks of ways she can dodge the question of how the fuck she's going to explain ditching school yesterday because some mystery girl was waiting for her in a very nice-looking car and they sped off.

yay. this'll be fun.

'meh, that's future Me's problem' She shrugged her shoulders as she walked to the kitchen after leaving her bedroom, only for her phone to buzz softly on the table where she left it to charge overnight.

see, she didn't have a socket/power outlet in her bedroom so she resulted in suffering without her phone for the night. how she does it without going insane? I have no clue.

she picked up the buzzing flip phone to see your familiar number flashing on her screen, a smile popped up on her face as she answered extremely quickly.

"hey daffodil!" your voice chimed in over the phone.

"hello (y/n) I'm shocked you're up this early"

"Well, my girlfriend's an early riser! I gotta give her a good morning call!"

"Are you sure that's all?" she said sarcastically as Haruhi rested her phone on the kitchen table/counter and she turned on the stove, preparing to cook herself and her dad some breakfast, bacon, and eggs, simple enough. cracking the eggs into the pan; she noticed how you were silent for a while, not a good sign.

" *sigh* I'm sorry daffodil...but I'm not gonna be able to reach you for this weekend...meetings n shit. not to mention my normal tutoring...I need to keep this up but I'll make it up to you Monday, sweetheart!"

you rambled as you tried apologising for having a busy life that took up most of your free time but Haruhi waited for you to finish your muttered apologies with a soft smile, gazing at her phone.

"no don't worry, I get it. you have a job and a school life, you can't ditch them anymore for me than you have already."

"but I can call in sick!-"

"you will not be doing that." she cut you off, snarkily; making sure you got the memo of you're already balls deep in sick days so it would harm your report card if you had any more.

a little huff came out of Haruhi's side of the phone, letting her know you were pouting and bitching. it made her smile hearing how you were willing to ruin your report for her but she knew it should have never come to that.

suddenly another voice came through your side of the phone which made Haruhi perk up a bit, also hearing some footsteps come from down her hall as well.

"master (y/n), you need to head to your weekend classes. your chauffeur is waiting by the gate."

a snappy sigh left your mouth as you nodded, turning back to your phone and muttering over and over to Haruhi how you're sorry and love her.

"I'm so sorry daffodil, ill message you when I can-"

"you will not be doing that ma'am." the butler's voice interrupted you, knowing you would try to text during class. this made Haruhi let out a small giggle.

"It's okay, strawberry. make sure you actually pay attention and I love you too.-" The call cut off but she took a gamble thinking the butler must have snatched the phone and snapped it shut. rude.

Haruhi snapped her head to the door that opened; showing her stubbled long haired father who looked almost dead.

"morning Dad." just another morning for the Fujioka household.

the weekend went by scarily quickly even though Haruhi wanted it to last an eternity. knowing her fate when she got back to school, the host club was ready to pounce like the predators they were.

she awoke on a Monday this time; to her alarm blaring in her ear, starting her day with either an earache or an attitude.

she shut it off with a stretch only to hear her phone once more in the kitchen but it was the individual notification sound she gave you.

well, there goes the bad attitude, you fixed it even though you didn't even try.

she got up with a bit more spark and ran to her phone, almost running into the door in the process.

she smiled as she walked back into her room after picking up her phone and looking at your message.

"mornib daffodil"

autocorrect is still off she can see. She sent you a gif of the Roblox wave which you read and just replied,

"..."

"don't do that again."

the one time your spelling was perfect was with pure disappointment in your message. She giggled a bit and deleted the gif from her phone entirely and sent a thumbs-up emoji.

she got changed into her dreaded uniform with a smile on her face despite knowing her doom for the day is coming sooner than she hoped. praying to whatever god was out there that her beautiful girlfriend would save her from not only Tamaki-sempai but also the twins and Kyoya's incessant prying.

she grabbed her bag and headed out the door, walking to her school, Ouran Academy while looking at her phone with a small smile as you message other pointless things about your weekend that were just plain stupid but entertaining, bitching about all of your classmates.

just as she was about to close her phone, you sent one final message to the cross dressing girl

"oh yeh dont forget bbg that im coming to your school, just gunna show up for your lunch and after school club muah! wanna see your line of work ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ"

she froze as she read over that message but as she went to protest, you went offline, this wasn't up for negotiation. you were going to make sure her line of work shouldn't make you, her girlfriend; worry.

awe shit.

she went along with her day, avoiding any questions from the twins pestering her,

"Haruhi! you haven't told us who that person was!"

"yeah Haruhi, are they your girlfriend or something?"

she stood up and left as some girls' heads snapped in their direction, mostly Haruhi's clients. She bolted out of there not without giving the twins a solid glair or two before slamming the door behind her anyway.

this was now a class free of host club members. she let out a sigh of relief only for her world to brighten a bit more when her phone lit up, she flipped it open to see you sent a picture of chocolate covered strawberries and with a message underneath,

"all for you! <3"

some heads turned at the sound of something falling, it was just Haruhi's head slamming into the table, she received weird looks but all she thought about was her stomach and how great her girlfriend is.

It was better they saw the weirdness and not the goofy smile and red face because god, she was never like this in school before. She regrets opening her phone as the little things get her the most.

the class commenced as the teacher walked in and told everyone to take their seats, her mind was elsewhere however, absentmindedly looking out the window, excited and scoping out her girlfriend's car as lunch was after this.

"Fujioka, as you are so relaxed in my lesson, Where is the world's largest waterfall, located?" the teacher said with such snark, wholeheartedly believing a commoner wouldn't know such information on geography.

being the fucking scholar she is, she didn't even look at the teacher and just said clearly, "Angel Falls is located in Venezuela's Bolívar State, in the Guiana Highlands, on the Churún River, 160 miles southeast of Ciudad Bolívar."

despite not looking at the teacher, this pissed them off more. "Fujioka, do you want a lunch detention for attitude?" the growl was evident in their voice.

"not really sensei, I apologise for my rudeness." she stood up and bowed, exaggerating to please the teacher, students were covering their mouths trying to not laugh at the teacher for being shown up and being completely in the wrong while some others were fantasizing about Haruhi.

the teacher growled and reluctantly continued with the lesson. an hour flew by and the bell went signalling lunch, however, when everyone was packing up their stuff, Haruhi bolted out as she had pre-packed up all of her things and just grabbed her bag and ran.

she 'jogged' past students in the hallway to the front of the dining hall, seeing someone in a cap and sunglasses and all black baggy clothes, a hoodie and sweat pants, hair all hidden in the cap.

100% had to be her. She ran a bit quicker only to tackle them and they stumbled a bit, only for them to wrap their arms around Haruhi and swing them around a bit in a hug.

Haruhi grabbed their hands and pushed them towards a free seat where she normally sits.

she sat you down and looked at you expectantly and just...kept staring at you. you leaned backward as she kept staring, feeling like she was judging you, only for it to click a second later that she wanted those chocolate strawberries!

you handed her a medium-sized box full of delicious treats and she beamed, almost as much as she did with the 'fancy tuna' you gave her. the host club watched from afar in surprise as Haruhi was swindled by something sweet for once. Tamaki was crying as he saw his little girl with supposedly her girlfriend.

however, most girls were glaring at the mysterious stranger who barged into their school, stealing their Haruhi.

jokes on then, she's yours.

Haruhi was barely as involved in any conversations with clients or the club compared to the conversation you two were having, she was actually laughing and smiling, acting as though she was a child with her closest friend.

someone in a butler uniform walked up to the two of you, catching all the onlookers off guard and the butler placed two dishes in front of you both, you bowed multiple times to the butler and handed them some money for the food, you didn't ask for it so it was out of kindness.

you handed your girlfriend a pair of chopsticks and gave her one of the plates, chatting while eating. not very polite I know.

soon enough, the lunch bell rang, and people were either glaring at you or observing you the entire time. that included the host club.

the rest of the lessons for the day flew by as Haruhi was in a more pleasant mood than before, seeing her girlfriend after two days of not seeing her. The entire school noticed at least.

the final bell rang for the day, letting everyone know it was either time to pack their shit and go home or it was time to head to their clubs and leave the teachers alone. she packed up slowly, knowing that her girlfriend would be here soon, another date probably, that's what you always surprise her with.

she walked to the host club with a calm pace, walking through the doors unnoticed by the club members and started on making some instant coffee.

her 'cover' was blown when a customer requested Haruhi and so she sat down on one of the chairs, offering a coffee to the girl. the members only just then noticed Haruhi's presents.

Tamaki started bombarding her about who was that beastly stranger who interrupted his time as the host's father which made Haruhi wince and wait until all clients were cared for and satisfied.

that took another half an hour until it was just the hosts in the room. the room felt suffocating to the girl however she condemned herself to stay silent.

"Anything I say can and will be used in the court of law against me." she crossed her arms and leaned back, solidly not going to say jack-shit.

the hosts shared a glance then all snapped their necks to kyoya, giving him either a sharp nod or a glair, perhaps both. the black haired boy with glasses sighed as he pushed up his said glasses with his pen.

"Haruhi. we'll lower your debt by half."

"my girlfriend." she said with no hesitation what-so-ever.

the hosts all shouted in unison, minus kyoya and Mori.

"WHHHAAATTTTT??"

Haruhi just shrugged; looking at kyoya solidly without blinking. he sighed and seemingly drew a line in his book and if crossing something out, writing a different number underneath.

the hosts start bombarding her with questions such as, When did you get a girlfriend?' 'where did you meet?' 'who is she?' and a 'WHO DARES TAKE MY PRECIOUS DAUGHTER FROM ME!?" we all know who said that.

just as she was about to answer them all, her phone let out a notification. your notification. She perked up and grabbed her phone quickly and flipped it open, seeing your message.

just as she was about to read it, Tamaki snatched it from her hands. "DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S RUDE TO IGNORE PEOPLE?!" he whinged as he dangled the phone out of her reach, almost teasing her for her height.

"stop it Tamaki sempai! That's her!" Haruhi raised her voice in annoyance, she wanted to see what you wanted.

Mori snatched the phone out of Tamaki's hands and was about to hand it back to the girl who was shouting for once, shocking all in the room, including kyoya for she's always been calm-headed. however, just as he was about to hand it to her, he read the message. pausing for a minute.

"hey daffodilllllll imma find ur club and show up okay? wat room u in??"

he flicked his eyes at Haruhi who was glaring and smirked at her, the nickname daffodil suited her. a very pretty yellow flower.

he typed back a response on her phone, making Haruhi fume as she never thought a guy such as Mori could be so disrespectful but I guess even angles can mock people.

he handed her phone back to her and she snatched it from him, "I'm in the third music room, ask around for directions"

she looked at the phone in worry, damn, if she shows up then you'll try to pay for her debt up front or worse, become a host or something. she bit her nail in worry as she heard knocking on the door.

honey opened the door with his cutesy smile and said to the girl outside, "I'm sorry miss! But the host club is closed now!" the girl chuckled and patted the boy's head.

"Don't worry cutie, I'm not here for the host club."

Haruhi shot out of her seat at that voice, that quick?

"daffodil...." the girl's voice came out eerie as she squeezed past the short 18 year old.

"Honey, let her in, this is the girl that Haruhi likes." mori said plainly as Haruhi's cheeks pinkened a little at the casual tone.

"(y/n) (l/n). seventeen years of age, the owner of her own private extremely wealthy business that is still as flourishing as it's beginning. has school on the weekends and often leaves Japan for business trips. originally from (your country) and known as the self-made genius billionaire." kyoya debriefed everyone in the room about the girl who just entered, only for his face to contort into a smug grin while staring at you dead in the eyes, as if it was a threat.

you looked him up and down nonchalantly and squinted.

"kyoya Ootori. the youngest of the Ootori siblings so seen as practically worthless. you try desperately to prove yourself to your father only for it to be a fruitless attempt as you will always amount to nothing. the youngest Ootori is known to use and objectify everything around him, some refer to him as a narcissist or just a manipulator. even though he's known to keep his guard around his family and his supposed closest friend. Tamaki Suo. oh, you're family is known for owning a police force, working in health and social care-

how's that buttercup?"

you said sassily as kyoya dropped his pen, not before snapping it in anger. you smirked and walked up to our girlfriend, grabbing her hand and twirling her.

kyoya scowled and looked away, you put him in a cramped box there, he wasn't expecting you to do your research on the club members.

honey was a dream to talk to, he kept calling you and 'Haru-Chan' cute while this tall stoic man with black hair you later learned was Mori who messaged you in Haruhi's place.

soon enough, the blonde in the room couldn't keep it contained anymore, he was pissed about how Haruhi was taken, he wanted this wrapped up and sorted out asap.

he stormed over to the two of you, looking at you while grabbing your shoulders aggressively; shaking you backward and forward multiple times, almost trying to be mean.

"HOW DARE YOU DATE MY HARUHI?!" all you did was annoyingly look to the side and roll your eyes, Haruhi just sweat dropped, much like the other host members. this somehow irked Tamaki even more so he turned serious. he wasn't happy about this dating business.

"Are you sure you want to date someone as deceptive as Haruhi?!" this perked your interest, your eyes snapping to meet his, he smirked at this while Haruhi's mood turned sour very quickly, she looked at you and all you did was look at her.

"HE is actually a SHE! how could you date a woman?!"

the entire room went silent at this, your face looking like one of horror while everyone else in the room was shocked, mori was slightly disgusted with Tamaki but Haruhi...oh Haruhi....she was pissed as could be. if you listened closely you could hear her teeth grinding and almost a growl leave her throat.

Tamaki let go of your shoulders, seeing as you were shocked enough, your breath started hitching, making Haruhi concerned as well as Honey and Kaoru. this was really getting to you so it seemed. kyoya however, closed his little death note and crossed his arms, intently watching your lips tremble.

your lips quivered, trying not to turn, your breathing coming out of your nose in puffs. you bit your lip, turning slightly to the side and screwing your eyes shut. your lips gradually pulled into a grin as you tried to suppress it.

you covered your mouth, trying to hide your grin as you started wheezing slightly, masking it for crying but in all reality, you leaned over, trying to not be noticed for laughing. kyoya smiled however and picked his book back up and continued writing in his book.

'(y/n) (l/n). also a very renowned actor. fooled even me.' written in his handwriting.

Haruhi caught on and let out a relieved sigh that you didn't ruin your makeup with your fake crying, and started smiling with you.

you walked towards her in a limp and used her shoulder as a balance, uncovering your mouth, letting your laugh bellow out of your mouth.

you could hear a pin drop in the room if it wasn't for your laughter which echoed around the walls. you wiped a 'tear' from your eye and stood up straight, still slightly giggling. you coughed to fix your voice and quickly kissed Haruhi's lips, it shocked her but she kissed back. you turned to the shocked blonde and glared with menace.

"you think I would care?" you walked slowly towards Tamaki, in a threatening way, he felt scared almost. as though you were about to beat him up, looking around for help at the other host members, they were either looking at him disappointingly or looking away. Haruhi was just giving him a hard, stern glare.

"I've known Haruhi from middle school. we started DATING in middle school. before she got her hair cut. if you were listening to my answers to the questions thrown my way and not interrupted, we could have slipped this. but what you just did was wrong. really. fucking. wrong." you growled out as you got closer. finally backing off from him while he had crocodile tears in his eyes.

Hikaru and Kaoru spoke up for once, "Yeah boss. You just tried to get her to break up with Haruhi. That's something not even we would do." they said in their normal teasing voice.

"I'm not sharing my cake with you anymore..." Honey said quietly, turning away.

In a flash, Tamaki was on his knees; bowing to Haruhi screaming his apologies over and over.

the club ended with you accepting his apology but not talking to him, most host club members were a bit off-put but spoke to him as well. Haruhi still held a grudge but that was perfectly fine.

you grabbed her hand and strode out the door with her in tow.

"where are we going?" asked Haruhi who was perplexed, trying to catch up to you.

"your house? I brought some gifts for your birthday!"

"WHAT? But you already had two piled sent to my door?!" she shouted, annoyed but grateful, trying to not accept any more.

"yeah well, that was when I 'wasn't' around. now I am!"

all you heard was a sigh in response, one of admittance and just going with the flow. you grinned and drove her home.

leaving the host club with a polite bow, them smiling at you as you left.

"I approve! They're so cute!" shouted Honey, Mori just nodded along with him while the twins chimed in, "Us too! She's actually pretty nice!", "weirdly enough we thought Haruhi was gunna date someone equally as weird as her but eh"

kyoya spoke up, "She could massively aid the host club with more funding than any of us could. she could also eradicate us just as easily"

Tamaki froze in shock, his smile almost falling straight off of his face. but it got worse,

"she could have easily paid off Haruhi's debt with the snap of her fingers, it'd be like chucking a penny into the street for her."

Tamaki fell to his knee's, again, it got worse when the twins tuned in once more,

"our guess is that she wanted to see what friends we were to Haruhi, and if she should stay in this school or something" the twins shrugged their shoulders, but knowingly adding fuel to the flame of Tamaki's shame.

as you opened the door of the car for Haruhi to go in first, all you heard across the campus was a girlish voice scream,

"I'M SORRRYYYYYYYYYY!!!!" both you and Haruhi looked at each other, and you snickered as she burst into laughter.

you drove back holding hands and just casually watched a film at her place, you could tell she was worried about this because as soon as the stress of the whole ordeal left her body, her head was nodding off to the side and she'd shake herself awake again.

you grabbed her waist and pulled her to you, not even a second after you did, she fell asleep on your shoulder. the movie was still playing as background noise, you stroked her hair and a ghost of a smile appeared on her face.

"you've got a good set of friends love... I'm glad...." you kissed the side of her head and mumbled, "I love you so much..." as you slowly drifted off to sleep yourself.

AND THAT'S A WRAP.

[johnwickb1tsch]

you're the worst thing (i'm addicted to) Part 5

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here... PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

PART 5.

“I really hate this building,” he grouses as you push through the security door without challenge. He sounds grumpy, and it’s almost…cute. You’re not used to having anyone worrying after you like this.

“I’ve never had a problem here,” you try to assure him.

He gives one last hostile look over the street like he expects a horde of marauders to come charging after you. But there’s just streetlights, and the few harmless hipsters who are still out and about on a Friday night. This city never really sleeps.

“Do you at least have protection in your apartment?”

You reckon he doesn’t mean condoms.

“What, like a gun?”

“Yes.”

“No,” you laugh. “I have a bat under my bed?”

He makes a sound through his teeth that indicates that is not the answer he wanted to hear. Again, you stumble on that stupid odd riser, and again he grabs for you, holding your waist with an arm that feels like steel, practically carrying you up the next three steps. He is tense, on edge after the fight, his eyes sweeping the shadows of your stairwell.

You hope that once you get him inside your apartment, he might calm down. For once the tumblers yield without a fight, and you pull him inside, locking the deadbolt again behind you. “Come sit down. Let me look at you.”

Instead he strides to the window, looking out over the street with a suspicious glare. He is manic, going to every window that faces the street and closing blinds and curtains. Then he stands vigil again, looking out through a crack in the blinds, his jaw clenched. He stands like that for a good minute before you insist, “John.”

He reminds you of a hawk, the way he turns his head to look at you without moving the rest of his body.

“It’s ok, honey. Do you want a drink?”

He lets out a deep breath, maybe relaxing a tad, though he’s still grinding his bottom teeth. “Sure.”

You know his poison of choice now. It’s possible you picked up a nicer bottle of bourbon than what you had on offer last time, a small batch vintage.

“Sit,” you insist, pointing at one of your chairs in the living room. You know it sounds like a command, but it seems like the only way to get through to him in this hyper-fixated state. After a long moment he finally obeys, lowering himself down into the cushioned seat with the weariness of a man ten years his elder. He seems as though he has done this all before—and he doesn’t like it anymore.

“You’re taking all this rather well,” he remarks, gratefully accepting the cut crystal glass from you, slugging back half of it.

“Well...that guy was an asshole.” You shudder as your think about what Sasha intended to do to you, and how he’d undoubtedly treated other women before you who didn’t have someone like John on their side. “A knife in the leg was the least he deserved. You taught him a lesson he won't forget.”

“Yeah. Too bad these guys aren't big on self-reflection. They prefer revenge.”

“You think they’ll come after you?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

You digest this, chewing on your bottom lip. “I can’t imagine how they could even find me,” you try to assure him. “It’s a huge city.”

The look he pays you isn’t exactly condescending, but it definitely makes you feel like he finds you naïve.

“Did you pay for your first round of drinks with cash?”

“No, credit card.”

He nods, like that’s all they would need.

“Seriously?”

“They have their ways.”

“Who are they, exactly?”

“I feel like it would be better if you didn’t know.”

“Oh no, we’re not doing that,” you say with your hands on your hips. “If someone’s coming after me, you’re going to tell me who.”

The wistful smile that twists his lips unexpected. “What?” you ask, unable to mask your annoyance.

“It’s just…I feel like I’ve had this conversation before.”

You realize you must remind him of Helen, with your no-male-bullshit attitude. It makes your heart ache at the same time it fills with pride. “Well, I learned from the best.”

You stare at each other for a long moment, and you feel your annoyance melt away as you study this man, so forbidding and yet beneath it all, a little fragile. You see it in his eyes, and there’s still blood on his brow, and you decide you want to patch him up more than you want to argue with him.

For now.

Maybe he feels some obligation to take care of you because of Helen, but it goes both ways. You know Helen would want you to make sure he’s taken care of too. You feel a little guilty that it’s taken this long.

“I’m going to go get my first aid kit. We’ll clean you up, then you can decide what you want to tell me. FYI, the less you know the better is not acceptable tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You cannot tell if he is amused, exasperated, or maybe both.

You return from the bathroom with your medicine chest, thunking it down on the coffee table. “Want another?” you ask, gesturing at his empty glass.

“Yes, but I shouldn’t. Good stuff.” You smile to yourself, wondering if your previous offering had been closer on the scale to paint thinner, remembering how he’d drank it anyway because he was a sweetheart. He was a conundrum, was what he was. This man was dangerous, and after what you’d seen earlier, you suspected he was possibly a killer. And yet, he was sweet. So sweet, at least to you, and those he considered friends. The warmth that bloomed in your chest for him was alarmingly not exactly—or not exclusively—lust related.

“Ouch,” you sigh, inspecting his brow. It’s a deep cut, and might actually require a butterfly. You won’t know until you clean it up.

You actually possess a passable first aid kit. Sometimes, art projects involving blades go awry, and you are in the habit of taking care of your ailments yourself. The cost of healthcare is utterly obscene, and until recently, out of your budget.

John lets you fuss over him, sitting still as a statue as you cleanse his wounds with saline solution then slather him with some antibacterial goop. Though you still feel a bit sick, and a bit giddy from the adrenaline, luckily your hands have stopped shaking. You do affix one butterfly closure to his noble brow, just in case. His eyes are closed, almost as though he is enjoying your ministrations, even though you know it can’t actually feel good.

“I’m not sure what else to do for this,” you say, touching his split lip lightly with a gauze pad, dabbing away the blood.

“It’s fine,” he sighs. “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sorry you got hurt,” you say.

This could be an excellent window for him to really tell you what’s going on. You suspect he’s purposely distracting you when he reaches for you, tracing the line of your waist before his large hands settle on your hips, pulling you closer between his manspread legs.  

“I’m feeling better now.” He looks up at you with those soulful dark eyes, and goddammit they should be considered an illegal weapon.

You know you should insist on answers before giving in, but your resolve utterly dissolves under his touch and that longing look, replaced with heady desire. This thing between you is a force to be reckoned with; it obliterates your good sense, your sense of propriety, your loyalty to your late sister. Anything that might have stopped you with anyone else ceased to matter with this beautiful man.

You are not sure if he pulls you, or if you just melt down into his lap, straddling him. His long fingers splay on your legs, pushing your skirts up your thighs, sliding higher and higher until he cups your ass with only your panties between you.

“My knight in shining black armor,” you sigh, touching his cheek lightly, wary of causing him pain. You think you see a bruise forming beneath the scruff of his beard.

“Hmm. It’s nice to be the hero, for once.” 

“Are you usually the bad guy, John?”

His touch is feather light down your legs again, then up your spine and the backs of your arms, causing you to shudder uncontrollably. “You have no idea, sweetheart.”

“I think I’m forming an idea,” you admit breathily.

“My clever girl. What ever shall I do with you?” You’re not sure why his praise makes heat and slick pool between your legs, as though you are melting from the inside for this man. His hands are in your hair now, his touch still so gentle, but oh so maddening. Your skin feels like its on fire.

You kiss him gently, because of the split lip. He is the one who deepens it, with a growing desperation and a disregard for his own pain that you find insanely titillating. His mouth travels down your neck, trailing kisses and grazing with teeth as though he means to eat you alive.

You would let him, gladly, and you writhe against him, grinding on the length of his hard cock beneath you. You didn’t even get to see it last time. Tonight, you determine you will remedy that.

Fingers hooked in the straps of your dress pull down, down and down until you are bared before him. His hand in your hair pulls, gentle but exacting, guiding you to arch your back, offering up your breasts for his delectation. His mouth on your nipples is pure magic, sucking and biting and flicks of tongue that drive you to the absolute brink. He could make you cum just like this, you think, with his mouth on your tits and riding his rock-hard cock through his pants.

It hardly seems fair, considering last time, you somehow manage to think through the fog of desire that has you so tied up in knots. You push against him, sliding down his body until you are on your knees before him. He watches you with such blatantly raw hunger it makes your legs weak; he knows exactly what you’re doing, and doesn’t have the will to tell you no. He watches you intensely as you reach for his belt, flipping it open. There is a weight on the belt that confuses you for a moment, until his hand goes behind his back, catching something.

“Don’t be afraid,” he says, and you can’t think straight enough to even entertain it. He pulls out a small black blocky object—it takes you a moment to realize it’s a gun. You've never really seen one in real life until tonight, just in the movies. You are more curious than fearful as he sets it gingerly on the table. The possibility does not even register that he could be a threat to you. After everything you’ve seen tonight, this is just par for the course, and you return to your task with gusto, whipping his belt from their loops with a satisfying snap.

You cannot hide the fact that you are utterly pleased with yourself, and the corners of his mouth twitch, his hand caressing your cheek. You finish undoing his pants with your eyes half closed, so entranced by his light touch, until his manhood springs free into your hand, hot and velvety and oh my he is large. You roll your eyes up to meet his before descending upon him, slowly taking his swollen glans between your lips, swirling him with your tongue.

“Fuck, baby…”

The hand in your hair is not so gentle now; you don’t think he realizes he’s pulling, as you slowly take his length into the back of your throat, toying with the vein with your tongue. You slide more of him into your mouth, knowing you'll never be able to fit it all, but so willing to try. You bob up and down slowly, grazing him very carefully with your teeth, winning the most delicious moan from this man who is usually such a bastion of self-control. 

His fingers comb through your hair, sending chills all down your body as you work him up and down. The tips of your bare breasts brushing his tautly muscled thighs sends spears of longing to your loins, and you press your legs for some relief.

It doesn’t work, but you are enjoying this, and you want to treat him, the way he treated you so generously before. He’s taken a beating for you, fought and bled for you, protected you, and you want to thank him in the most primal way you know how. You take him deeper into the back of your throat, as deep as you can go, savoring every thick inch of this magnificent cock. What a thing of beauty. He groans, and you would have smiled if not for the mouthful.

“Baby...so good to me.” His hips rock against you of their own volition, his grip tightening in your hair. “Touch yourself for me. I want to feel you cum with your mouth sucking my cock.”

He doesn't have to invite you twice. Your fingers find your weeping slit, toying with your clit while you go down on him. You find a rhythm like this, sucking him in time to touching yourself. Maybe it’s a little self serving, but then again...there is something cosmic in this. Something timeless and primal and he seems to be enjoying it all the more with your participation, the vibration of your moans teasing his hard shaft.

You feel that scintillating pleasure gathering in your loins, know you are close. Your pleasure almost takes you by surprise, it is so swift and violent, your body spasming with the mindnumbing explosion inside you. After last time, it’s almost the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. You take him into your throat fully and he cums with you, no warning, just the hot spill of his seed down your throat, filling your mouth. You swallow it greedily, only withdrawing when he stills beneath you.

You nearly collapse against his legs, your cheek resting on his lean thigh. This man is made of muscle and sinew. Through hooded eyes he caresses your face, toying with your hair. You shudder with aftershocks that are almost as pleasurable as the orgasm itself. You feel triumph as those burning dark eyes slide closed, overcome by afterglow, and maybe something else you don't care to name now.

“My sweet girl. You...are a marvel."

Something inside you blooms at hearing those soft words from him.

Slowly you sit up, stretching against him, using his hard body to help push you to your feet. Without a word you step out of your lacy pink panties and stick them in his jacket like a pocket square. He glances down with a lifted eyebrow, a small smirk pulling the corner of his mouth.

He’s so beautiful you could scream. 

“Something to add to your collection,” you quip, alluding to the fact that even though he practically fled last time, you know he took your undies with him.

“I will treasure them as much as the last pair,” he admits with a woebegone smile that crushes your heart.

Your legs are trembling beneath you, and you hold out a hand to him, inviting him to follow you. “Snuggle with me?”

A few long moments pass, until you think he might reject the idea, but then he takes your smaller mitt in his and tugs you down into his lap. It is silly, how secure you feel curled up in this man’s arms, your head finding the warm crook of his neck. His masculine smell is utterly divine, and you could fall asleep there, with his long fingers stroking your hair. You snuggle in the quiet aftermath, spent and ever so content.

This might be what heaven feels like.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, when he brushes his lips against the top of your head and asks, “What would you say to packing a bag and coming to my place for the weekend?”

The suggestion takes you aback. Heat floods you as you think about just what you would get up to on a long weekend away at Casa Wick.

It certainly wouldn't be innocent.

Your little bubble of carnal pleasure bursts when you think of everything that happened outside your apartment, before you pleasured each other into a mind-numbed stupor.

“I would say I feel like you have an ulterior motive besides enjoying my company.”

“I do enjoy your company.”

“And I think you think I'm in danger. Are you ready to talk about that?”

“Am I allowed to say no?”

“No.”

He huffs with laughter, clearly amused with you. But behind it all, you see the shadow of worry in his eyes, a tension at the corners of his mouth. “Come home with me, and we can talk about there.”

You tilt your head, wondering if he would be so diabolical as to fuck you into a blissfully complacent stupor so he didn’t have to answer your questions the whole weekend. You’ve never been good at taking orders—or hell, even advice—at face value. You like to make decisions—read mistakes—for yourself. But maybe, just this once, you could have faith that someone has your best interests at heart. He’s older than you, maybe wiser, and seems to know a little something you don’t about the workings of the underworld of New York City. As surreal as it seems...you could actually be in serious danger.

Seeing that you are still thinking, he sweetens the pot, nuzzling the shell of your ear with his nose. “I will cook for you and spoil you rotten.”

You can only imagine what carnal delights spoiling implies with this man.  

Well…fuck.

“Fine. I’ll pack a bag. But we are just postponing this Q & A.”

“Fair enough.” You extricate yourself from his lap with a stretch, and he gives you a light smack on your rear as you make your way for your bedroom. When you turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow he pays you a panty-melting (if you’d been wearing any) smirk that turns your brain to mush.

This man.

It occurs to you that this man is, in fact, dangerous to you. Not in terms of violence, but…you sense in yourself that if he asked nicely, you just might give him anything. You understand more than ever how and why Helen fell so quickly for John Wick, as you find yourself surrendering to your addiction to him with a secret smile.

<<PART 4 PART 6>>