#I lied there is still four more chapter left after this

[kay9leo]

At First Glance...Part X

Chapter 9 <<<||| Chapter 10 ||| >>> Chapter 11

... At Poetic Sensibility

…

Poetic sensibility is the ability to deeply engage with poetry and experience its meaning and emotional impact beyond the words. It can involve making connections between the mind and senses, and can allow a writer to choose the right word to create a particular tone. – Google AI when you search up “poetic sensibility meaning”

…

“…so if you recall from Prof. Knorozov’s lecture last week, the symbols represent syllables. And these syllables are arranged in glyph blocks to sound out each word.  The way you’re supposed to read these Mayan runes is different than how we read our English letters. As a general rule, within each glyph block, the symbols are read from top to bottom and from left to right. But sometimes, certain words have their own glyphs like this one.” Sebastian explained to MC as he pointed out to rectangle glyph with waves inside.

It was breakfast and one of the few times he actually got up early to meet up with MC at the Slytherin dining table.

Before The Pensive Reminiscence as he started calling it, Sebastian would stay up late till the wee hours of the night reading book on possible cures and treatments until the letters would start to blur. Or until he passed out. He would wake up the next day with the book tenting over his face.

After The Pensive Reminiscence, Sebastian found himself going to bed on time, flying for fun (to the point he was hiding from Imelda who wanted to challenge him to a racing challenge or organize a pick-up game of Quidditch with him involved), lounging at the clock tower to see the others duel after his own match in Crossed Wands and just plain reading for fun.

Now that he wasn’t borrowing books that weren’t about curse breaking or curses, Sebastian would just pick whatever book struck his fancy and borrowed it to expand his knowledge – just for the sake of learning. Currently he had four books on his nightstand:

Apotropaic: How the Ancient Greek Warded

Unexpected Useful Runes from Around the World

Divine Magic: Myths of Magic Bygone

101 Muggle Scottish Poems to Know

He would rotate between the four books, often sticking to 101 Muggle Scottish Poems to Know and Divine Magic: Myths of Magic Bygone. While the former was a comfort novel, one of the few ways he could feel close to his late parents, the latter was the only book that he was able to gather information about Ancient Magic.

Not that there was much information to gather from it.

Heck, he was certain he could write his own book about MC’s magical abilities with Ancient Magic. He seen enough of what she could do with her special powers. His own book would be leagues better than this one with the information he can pass on to future users if he wrote one.

Not that he ever would.

Even he knew the dangers of having her abilities being spilled to the world.

And he wasn’t going to put his closest friend into danger like that.

MC was in enough danger with Rookwood and Ranrok interested in her. He didn’t forget how the two of them eavesdrops on them. He refused to think of what future ill-thought plans could befall on MC if her special ability came out.

She deserved to live a normal life.

Just like how he was slowly returning back to his.

All thanks to MC.

Life felt normal once more…only it was better.

“So, as you can see, this glyph over here represents the word fire and hot. If you crave this glyph into a stone, when it’s activated by magic, it essentially becomes a magical fire stove without flames. Makes sense?” He asked as he glanced back towards MC.

She was glaring at his notes, running her finger over the glyph he drew up in his notebook. While he was used to her silence as she would mentally take in data, the glare towards his notes was a new development.

“Is something wrong MC?” He frowned.

It has been two weeks since they had reunited once more and continued keeping the flame of their friendship.

Together.

While it was close to cooling coals at its worst during the Friendship Hiatus with neither of them feeding the flames, since that last quest to Isidora’s castle (as he started calling it), the fire has been renewed once more. Together, they worked to keep it feed by tossing in fuel to their metaphorical hearth with raids to the kitchen, trips to Hogsmeade, lounging around to talk and play games in the Undercroft, Common Room, Great Hall – essentially any little corner they could claim as theirs for that small portion of time.

“Nothing…just had a rough night.” She yawned.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes.

From the shadows underneath her eyes to her glare as she tried to focus on his notes…It seems as if they traded schedules with her being the sleep deprived friend this time.

“What happened?” He asked, thinking, Did you not need my help?

“Amit and Andrew – YAWNnnn – and I went looking for Astrology tables. It was the first time we had a clear night this week. But we couldn’t find what we were looking for and had to call it a night.” MC frowned as she rubbed her eyes.

“Oh…I’m sorry that didn’t work out for you.” He frowned. “Why did you wake up early than to review with me then? I would understand if you wanted to meet up later. I know what it’s like to pull nearly all-nighters.”

“Because it might be the only time we’ll meet up to review before Ancient Runes class.” MC said as she yawned once more. “And I like reviewing with you.” She said with a soft smile.

“That makes two of us.” Sebastian couldn’t help but smile, even if it felt like there were pixies running amuck in his belly as he met her cheerful tired eyes.

It was as if time itself froze and something had shifted that wasn’t there before.

Before Sebastian even had time to make a comment about how nice her hair looked or how she smelt differently from her usual mellowsweet with the citrus orange perfume that he always associated with her, a letter smacked her in the face and fell into her breakfast.

The owl post was here.

MC groaned as she plucked the letter out of her porridge and flipped it around to see who it came from.

Then it was as if she was dosed with ice water as she jumped up with a frown.

“Shit.” She cursed.

“Is something wrong?” He frowned as she pocketed the letter. She looked at him with sad hesitant eyes, erasing whatever cheer they once held for him.

“I have some business to attend with Fig.” She said as she started putting her stuff away.

“Oh.” He said as he held her satchel. “Do you want me to walk you there?” He said at the last second, wanting to extend their time together. Even if they nearly spent an hour reviewing early in the morning for the Ancient Runes class, it never seemed as if they spent enough time together.

“Don’t worry about it. Review without me. I’ll catch up with you later!” She grinned at him before giving him a peak on the cheek, stupefying him without even casing a spell as she walked away.

Sebastian stood there for who knows how long with his hand on his kissed cheeked until Ominis came and ordered him to sit down and stop mindlessly standing like a mannequin.

Sebastian did as told, mind elsewhere, drifting to whatever MC could be doing without him.

…

Ancient Runes went as it normally did. The two sat together in the morning with little to say as a quiz was placed in front of them. While the quiz was easy enough, they barely had time to talk or exchange notes as Prof. Knorozov charged into his lecture like a rampaging graphorn. There was only so many notes he could take as he did his best to draw down all the new runes they needed to study.

But it was fine.

MC would cover for him.

She would write down the information needed as he provided the detailed rune drawings. It was why they were both at the top of their class again. It wasn’t as if he missed his chance to talk with her as they split ways for their next class.

They still had dinner together.

But when dinner came, he found himself with only Ominis for company.

MC wasn’t sitting with them.

Instead, she sat between Thakker and Larson as if they were long-time buddies. They laughed as she pointed at something on the table, going over a map she pulled out earlier. Their meals were finished, dirty plates pushed to the side that would be vanished once they left their seat.  While he couldn’t see their facial reaction as their backs faced him, Sebastian knew that stance she held.

MC was going to go on another adventure.

The three of them got up and left the Great Hall, shoulders back and chins held high as their dirty dishes vanished.

She never even bothered to look back and wave goodbye to him before leaving like she did before the Friendship Hiatus.

While Sebastian knew that she picked up that habit because of the Friendship Hiatus. He never thought that it would remain.

Or that he would feel that same hurt from before.

…

Sebastian couldn’t sleep that night.

He tossed and turned, switched to laying his head on the foot side before deciding there was no point in staying up. When he checked the time, it was only one in the morning. A late night on his new post-The Pensive Reminiscence schedule. An early bedtime on his ante-The Pensive Reminiscence schedule.

With nothing working and a slight fear of waking up Ominis, Sebastian sighed and picked up a book at random on his nightstand and walked out, wearing his nightrobe over his pajamas to keep the chill away. While he wasn’t surprised to see a few students still up at this hour, reviewing notes, going over homework or even playing chess, some were surprised to see him again as he took his usual spot on the couch by the fireplace and sat down to read the book he picked up at random.

101 Muggle Scottish Poems to Know

“Nothing a little light reading can’t cure.” He mumbled to himself as he flipped to the index and searched for his favorite poems – “Address to a Haggis” – he thought it was hilarious as a child. “My Heart’s in the Highlands” – he always had pride as a Scotsman and would tell any city kid who would listen when they went to Glasglow, Edinburgh or even London the rural beauty that surround his small village of Aranshire.

“Tam O’Shanter” was by far his favorite due to the particular way his father would change his tone as he read the tale-like poem to him and Anne during bedtime. A second look at the poem, he found himself rather annoyed with the main character in the harm he caused his loyal mare by causing her to lose her tail.

Sebastian sighed and looked through to see what other poems the book had on Robert Burns.

While Sebastian wasn’t as in tune with muggle culture, he couldn’t deny that their writings were rather delightful. He could see why his father had favored Robert Burns as a poet; so much that the muggle man became his namesake for his second name in Scottish form: Raibeart. Anne herself was also named after their mother’s favorite Scottish poet, Anne Grant. His parents were avid readers – whether it be reading studies for their field, poetry and even plays! His own first name –Sebastian– and Anne’s second name –Viola– came from his parent’s favorite play Twelfth Night. They were both named after the twins in the muggle play. While he didn’t understand it as a child why his parents wanted to built his interest in writing –especially poetry– he could see what charm some of his least poems as a child held.

While “A Red, Red Rose” still felt too lovey-dovey for his taste, taking a second look at “O, Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast”, Sebastian found that he actually rather liked the poem now as a young man. While he and Anne would stick their tongue out at how love-struck their father would act when he would sing the poem to their mother, Sebastian found a rather simple joy in reading it now that he understood the meaning behind its words–

“What are you reading?” An unexpected voice said above him.

If anyone dared asked (with his wand pointed at them to help encourage a different question), Sebastian would say that the shout was simply from the joy hearing his friend again and NOT from the blind fright she gave him that had him tossing the book into the air and jumping up, leading him to strike MC’s face.

To top the eventful fright off, his book ended up striking the top her head.

“I guess that serves me right for not announcing myself.” MC laughed before wincing as she rubbed her right eye.

“MC! I’m sorry!” Sebastian said as he got up from the floor and dashed up to her. “Let me take a look at that! I didn’t mean hit you!” He frowned as he gently pulled her hand away from her covering her right eye.

He hissed. Sebastian could already tell the bruising would lead to a black eye from experience.

“Shite. MC I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He frowned as he bit his bottom lip, Okay, so what are some spell I could use to minimize the swelling? I know Glacius at a smaller scale is often used to prevent the swelling…there are also some ointments I can try to numb the pain as well–

“Don’t worry about it Sebastian. Imelda has some cream she uses for bruises. You’ll be surprised how often you can get them during pick-up quidditch.” MC laughed. “She’s more than happy to share them with me considering I’m one of the few that actually plays with her.”

“Oh.” He frowned as MC turned around and picked up a book, mumbling,

“So that’s what struck me.” Then she turned to him. “I never took you for a poet type of guy. Are you planning to woo someone with some pretty words?” She smirked.

“No. I uh…I couldn’t sleep, and I figured reading some poetry will tire me out.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Looks like it failed. It’s three in the morning.” MC giggled as she looked through the page the book fell on.

“It is?” Sebastian narrowed his eyes as he took a glance around the Common Room. The only souls up at this time were just him and MC. “Oh…” He said as he looked at MC and frowned.

While he was in his pajamas with only his nightrobe for warmth, MC was still wearing the same clothes she had at supper. In fact, they looked worse with her school robe littered with dirt, leaves and cuts. Her face wasn’t any better either now that he took a second look at it. She wore grime like makeup blush and chalk-like dust on her hair as if it was powder. The forbidden forest was her perfume instead of the orange citrus he had grown accustomed to.

Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but before he could even question where she had been, MC was faster to ask:

“What does this poem even mean Sebastian?”

“What?” he blinked.

“This poem – here take a look. I saw you reading it earlier but it’s written in a Scottish Brogue that I can’t quite understand. See?” MC said as she showed him the poem he was just reading.

“Oh. That’s “O, Wert Thou In the Cauld Blast”. It’s a Robert Burns poem. A classic to Scotland.” Sebastian stated, like a teacher answering a student’s question.

“Can you read it to me in Standard English? There are still some Scottish words that unfortunately I don’t understand. As you can see, I’m still actually rather unfamiliar to the Scottish dialect.” MC chuckled as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“I’m surprised. You been running around the Highlands hamlets for ages now. How did you even communicate with them without me on your quests?” He chuckled, trying to not let his bitterness sweep into his tone.

“It helps when you speak with a foreign accent. Suddenly, everyone’s wants to befriend you instead of giving you the stink eye when you use the Queen’s English.” MC chuckled. “Not that I can blame them. They are rather upset at the Ministry down in London for failing to do their duty up here.” MC said as she sat down at the couch and patted the seat next to her.

“It really shouldn’t be up to fifteen-year-olds like us to take care of the Ashwinders problem. Or the Loyalist.” He said as she sat next to her.

“Or Poachers. At least we didn’t have any issue with them tonight.” MC sighed as she leaned against him, staring down at the book. Sebastian placed his arm around her, giving her a side hug as she partly nested against his chest.

“Did something happen tonight? You know you can always ask me to come join you in your Astronomy Table hunts…even if it’s at a late hour.” He frowned, thinking, I rather you have my wand as back-up instead of Thakker and Larson.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think you would find Astronomy Tables rather boring. I’ve notice how you always do your homework for that class last.” MC giggled as she looked up to him with that bright smile that wasn’t there earlier.

“Not my fault that I find starting at constellations rather boring. When will I ever use that information in the future?” Sebastian grinned at her as felt that warmth in his chest once more when she smiled back.

“I found it’s a rather useful map to navigate by. As long as I know where Polaris is, I can always find my way back home.” MC grinned. “Now no more stalling, what does that poem mean in the Queen’s English? I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that the Scottish dialect can be written down like that; I’m all too used to seeing “proper” English writing.” MC chuckled.

“How ‘bout I read it to you. In Queen’s English for my London girl?” Sebastian smirked as he felt that pixie-like feeling in his abdomen.

“I’m not actually from London you know?” MC lifted an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Sebastian laughed as he read her the poem in his best posh voice that would’ve made Solomon proud. Not that his uncle ever cared about him.

Except for whatever he did wrong.

“The poem, in Standard English, is called “O, Were You In the Cold Blast”. It’s written by my da’s favorite poet. Rabbie Burns.” Sebastian said with a proud smile on his lips as he read:

“O, were you in the cold blast

On yonder meadow, on yonder meadow,

My plaid to the angry direction,

I would shelter you, I would shelter you,

Or did Misfortune’s bitter storms

Around you blow, around you blow,

Your shelter should be my bosom,

To share it all, to share it all.”

He said as his voice took on a cantor tone and he found himself singing the next stanza.

“Or were I in the wildest waste,

So black and bare, so black and bare,

The desert were a Paradise,

If you were there, if you were there.

Or were I monarch of the globe,

With you to reign, with you to reign,

The brightest jewel in my crown

Would be my queen, world be my queen.”

“You have a nice voice Sebastian.” MC yawned. “Ever thought about being a singer? They could use you in the West End theaters in London” She said as she smiled at him with those happy bright tired eyes.

“I’ll sing to you if that’s what you like.” He hummed with a smile.

“Can you sing it to me the way it’s written? I rather like listening you sing.” She said as she laid against his chest once more. “You have a rather nice accent.”

“As you wish.” He said with a smile.

So, he sang the original words in the Scottish Brogue he was taught to loathe. And when he looked down to see what MC thought, he found her sleeping soundly against his chest. Without giving it a second thought, he pulled them back, to lay against the couch, with her closer to the inside and him on the edge. Letting her use his shoulder as a pillow as he laid down his head against the armrest, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head before any thought could stop him.

He sighed smiling, as he hummed in a whisper,

“O, wur ye in th’ cauld blast

On younder lea, on younder lea,

Mah plaid tae th’ angry airt,

I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter thee,

Or did Misfortune’s bitter storms

Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,

Thy bield shuid be mah bosom,

To share it a’, to share it a’.”

Soon he fell asleep soon enough, holding her snuggly like a niffler with its treasured gold.

…

They woke up a little bit before dawn, before their peers would walk down the stairs and the sun’s rays could beam through the lake to greet the Slytherin Common Room.

MC was the first to awaken.

Sebastian knew that as much as he knew his favorite sweet was Bertie Bort’s and his favorite physical activity was dueling as much as he knew who those hands belong to as they slapped his face and the voice mumbling to him as if he was underwater.

Which was odd since they were somehow in the clock tower as well, with her in his arms as they laid down on the couch that was bought up here ages ago. There was no one else here besides them as they waited for their next opponents to come.

Everybody left.

Even Ominis.

They needed to rest up before the next fight. So, they laid down on the couch and took a break. He didn’t even realize he had closed his eyes after hugging her.

Or was it a warm pillow that he found?

“Wake up Sebastian.” She mumbled.

“Five mair minutes…” He mumbled back, snuggling his head against his pillow as he hugged the other in his arm against his torso.

The latter was surprisingly warm.

“Sebastian, let me go! Please!” MC hissed at him as he felt her slap his cheeks once more.

“Ya can’t lea. They’ll be ‘ere soon enough.”

“I need to pee!”

“Fine…juist come back whin ye’r dane. We still hae one mair dueling double tae play.” He mumbled into the pillow. “Can’t let Weasley ‘n’ Prewett tak’ th’ championship spot.”

“Of course not.” MC snorted before softly saying, “Just let me go and I’ll be right back.” She whispered.

“Promise?” He mumbled. He didn’t want to lose her again.

“I promise. Now let go of me you hugger.” She grumbled.

“Bit ah lik’ hugs.” He said as he hugged her even tighter.

“And I like to use the loo.”

“Fine.” He mumbled back. “Juist return afore Prewett claims wur forfeiting th’ match.” He grumbled as he loosened his grip and felt his lovely warm pillow roll over him.

“Don’t worry I will.” She mumbled back, as if she was far away.

“MC?” He said as he grabbed hold of her hand before she removed it from his chest.

“Sigh…yes Sebastian?”

“Kin we go oan another quest? Fur fin?” He mumbled as he weakly opened his eyes to greet hers. “Ah miss daein’ that wi’ ye.” He smiled.

“Really?” She said. Why did she sound so pleasantly surprised?

“Aye. Can’nae let everybody else hae all th’ fin. Ah din’nae lik’ it whin ye lea me behind.” He mumbled, closing his eyes as he felt a warmth on the back of his hand that felt softer than his skin.

“Me neither.” She smiled as she gave him head scritches.

“Guid.” He nodded his head before he narrowed his eyes and looked at her once more in his dazed sleep. “Ye know a loue ye?”

Her hand froze. Then it started moving once more.

“I didn’t know.” She mumbled.

“Ah dae. Ah din’nae wantae lose ye.” He mumbled as he closed his eyes, feeling sleep drag him back into the void. They still had time for a nap before their next match.

“You won’t. I promise I’ll be back. And I’ll get you a blanket and pillow as well.”

“Thank ye. Ye’r th’ best loue.” He said back. “Mak’ sure that ye nap tae. Sleeping is guid fur dueling.” He mumbled as he accepted void as his home and was fast asleep once more.

…

The next time he woke up, Sebastian found his head on a pillow with a warm blanket warped over him.

Shoot. I didn’t mean to accidently fall asleep like that. Sebastian frowned as he sat up. He was still in his pajamas and nightrobe. The book that he was reading last night, 101 Muggle Scottish Poems to Know, was placed on the coffee table with a note written on top of it next to the muffin that definitely wasn’t there last night.

I didn’t want to wake you. Thank you for your kind words last night. I really needed it. See you at lunch!

-MC.

P.S. Enjoy the muffin! Stop skipping breakfast to sleep in!

“I feel like I forgot something.” Sebastian frowned. He knew something happened, but for the life of him, he just couldn’t remember it. He shrugged. “Oh well.” He said as he got up and started preparing for the day before he was late for class.

Again.

...

Chapter 9 <<<||| Chapter 10 ||| >>> Chapter 11

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation

[delirious-donna]

A Shaky Arrangement [Part Three]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: You've nowhere else to go, surely he wouldn't kick you out so easily? You are so very attractive after all...

pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: sibling bickering, mentions of food, SFW

Part Two | Series Masterlist | Part Four

Kento scowled.

He sat stiffly on the leather couch that occupied most of the living room space, watching as you took container after container out of a brown paper bag with a grease stain pooling at the bottom. The desire to march to the kitchen and find the surface spray and kitchen towel to wipe up any damage to his coffee table was rampant. But he didn’t. He sat still with a growing grimace.

“You think you could stop scowling at me?” you said from your spot on the floor, sitting cross-legged with your back to him. “I can feel your distaste crawling up my spine.”

“I am not scowling,” he lied mulishly.

“Yes, you are, but whatever. I did ask if you wanted to add anything to the order. You were the one to turn your nose up at Chinese takeout. I guess you’re used to the finer things in life, Mr Nanami.”

His mouth opened to respond, but he snapped it shut just as quickly. He would not get into a petty argument over his preference of cuisine. The sinking feeling of resignation reared its head once more. Could he honestly share his apartment with you for the next two weeks without you both at each other’s throats?

“Remind me again why am I even considering hosting you?” He half hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and sat forward in his seat until his elbows were braced upon his knees.

You paused. The chopsticks you were using to pile rice onto an expensive-looking plate froze in midair. At last, you twisted your neck to look around, adopting a sheepish expression.

He was right, as annoying as that fact might be.

This was his home, and he had every right to send you on your merry way, whether you had somewhere to stay or not–the latter being the case. You were sharply reminded of his stricken features when you explained your plight. How he had grabbed up the glass which you had just finished draining of whatever potent amber liquor he preferred and went looking for a refill. A large one. A large one which he swallowed in one long gulp.

Kento had the same eyes as his sister, Karin. They were rich hazel, and they had the strange ability to lighten or darken depending on their mood. They crackled like popping logs in a roaring hearth when joyful or amused and darkened to the deepest mahogany when angered or upset. This you noticed as he questioned you over and over, his fingers running ruefully through his hair and those eyes that followed your every nervous jerk or twitch became pits of darkness.

“Sorry,” you said quietly. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you into sharing something with me? I ordered way too much, there will be leftovers for days if you don’t.” It was your version of a peace offering. Anything to prevent him from backtracking on the shaky agreement you had reached.

Kento’s nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of leftovers crowding his fridge and the smells that might permeate into the fresh produce or homemade meals that were labelled and waiting to be eaten.

With a long sigh, he lowered himself to the floor and sat by your left elbow. “Fine. It is probably wise for me to put something other than alcohol in my stomach anyway. Serve yourself what you want and I’ll have what is left.”

“Aye, captain!”

“Don’t do that,” he scolded, rolling his eyes at your salute, but there was no heat in the words. If anything, he was amused and you smiled knowingly to yourself as you began to dig into the meal.

He must be truly mad to be entertaining this prospect, but there was something he liked about you, even if he tried his best to deny it. You pushed back against him. It was refreshing. Kento enjoyed your quick wit and the ease with which you conversed with him. Sure, it was often at his expense but it was enjoyable in a way it never had been before.

As the youngest ever senior partner at work, he commanded respect from all. The junior partners and even those on the governing board often bowed their heads in reverence when in his presence. Yet it wasn’t so long ago that he had been a fresh-faced college graduate eager to reach his current lofty heights and he wondered absently if you possessed the same drive and determination. You certainly weren’t easily intimidated.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Mr Nanami?”

So lost in thought, Kento almost missed your question. It took him a moment to process and when it finally hit home, he nearly choked on his bite of peking duck.

“Excuse me?” he spluttered, banging a fist on his chest to clear the blockage in his throat.

Your cheeks warmed in amusement, impishly shrugging whilst you toyed with the remnants on your plate. It had been on your mind for a little while now. Your host was handsome—a thought you kept coming back to no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

“I said, do you have a girlfriend?” you repeated.

“I don’t see what business that is of yours.”

He busied himself with rolling back the sleeves of his pristine white button up. Your lips quirked before you blew out a puff of air.

“Come on. It’s a simple question, no? Since you’ve agreed to give me a place to stay, surely I should know if I might run into someone else whilst I’m here.”

You had a point, and that bugged him. He was about to answer when you went on, nudging your elbow into his side and he caught a whiff of his body wash on your skin.

“Boyfriend then?” You baited him, though there would be no shame in it if he were more inclined towards his own sex. Other than perhaps the briefest disappointment. No! Shut that down now, you thought to yourself.

“Neither. If you must know.” He levelled an unimpressed stare in your direction and wiped his hands on a napkin.

How annoying the flare of hope that illuminated in your chest upon hearing his answer was. It had no place here, and you did your best to flatten your features into neutrality. You failed.

“I do, however, have a cleaner that visits each morning for a few hours to keep the place how I like it. I will alert Mrs McGarden that I have a guest so that she doesn’t enter your room without consent.” He nodded his head as if that was the end of the matter, trying and failing not to notice how you chewed your lip as if you were deep in thought. Cute.

“Speaking of rooms…” you trailed off as the first wave of tiredness hit you square in the face. It was early by your standards but the day had been filled with ups and downs like nothing you’d experienced before. “Where will I be sleeping?”

It was an innocent enough question, or you had meant it that way, but the lull that Kento left hanging over you both felt thick with something tangible but unknown. Right now your suitcase was still spread open wide on what you now knew to be his bed and you surely wouldn’t be sleeping there.

Before he could answer, his phone rang from the kitchen island, shrill and loud. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, hurriedly moving for the device and slipping down the hallway until he was out of sight.

“I can explain! Don’t yell.” The familiar voice said the second the phone was to his ear. Karin had finally braved his wrath and called back.

“I’ll give you two minutes.”

“Kento! I am not one of your underlings. Not that it matters, shut up. What was I saying?” Karin hissed through the phone and even without seeing her he knew that she was pushing hair out of her face as she always did when she was flustered or annoyed.

He sighed and silently counted to three. “Two. Minutes. Explain.”

“You’re meant to be out of the country, why aren’t you? I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” she hurried on, not waiting for an answer. Kento had long since known when not to interrupt his sister in full flow. “Mrs McGarden assured me that she would keep silent and I was only trying to help out a friend. She tried to refuse my offer. Said she’d find a couch or two to sleep on instead, can you imagine? You haven’t… kicked her out, have you?”

“I was firmly coerced into taking a vacation instead of attending the conference hence my presence. It seems I need to have words with Mrs McGarden as to where her loyalties lie, and no, I have not kicked your friend out,” he answered the questions in the order they were given, turning on the spot in his bedroom. “Though I have been sorely tempted,” he lied.

Karin audibly harrumphed. “Don’t lie, Kento, it’s not a good trait.”

“Who says I’m lying?”

“Oh, whatever. I don’t have time for your little temper tantrum. Y’know… I think she might be a good influence on you, relax you a little. You’re on vacation so maybe spend some time with your guest? She is very dear to me and I’ve got a lot of explaining to do since I never mentioned you to her.”

Kento could hear the genuine worry in her voice and it cooled some of the fires of his anger. His shoulders slumped and half-heartedly he agreed, even if he didn’t have any intention to do as Karin suggested. He would keep to himself and hope that you did the same.

He returned to the living room but found it empty. Glancing to the side he found you in the kitchen washing up the plates and humming. For a moment he simply stood and watched. Considering he had only just met you, he didn’t mind seeing you in his space and the words of his sister echoed in his mind.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he stated, finally making his presence known once more.

Smiling, you shrugged him off. “It was the least I could do, don’t worry about it.”

“Uh, Karin sends her apologies for the mixup. She assures me that she will make it up to you and explain everything when you see her next. Shall we pick a room for you now?”

Your chin jutted out, a wrinkle forming between your eyebrows at the mention of his sister. Kento could tell that Karin was going to be in for hell, and rightly so, when you reunited.

“Yes please, I’m pretty tired after… well, you know,” you stammered with an awkward laugh.

He did indeed know, though he would rather forget. Instead, he held out his arm for you to step ahead of him and followed you discreetly towards the two bedrooms that you could choose from.

The first was on the right and nearest to the living space, this was the room that Karin occupied when she visited and her mark was firmly stamped upon the interior. Kento watched from just outside the doorway as you tried and failed not to wince at the baby blue walls and the mountains of overstuffed pillows piled atop a cream bedspread with lace and frills.

In the corner stood her old dollhouse, untouched and in pristine condition thanks to a certain cleaner with whom he still needed to have several words with. You froze before it, curiosity lighting in your eyes and slowly you bent to inspect through the windows where the tiny families resided.

Before he could speak, you whirled around and brushed past with a soft apology for coming so close to him. Again, he could smell his body wash on you and he liked it even more this time.

“I don’t think this room will do,” you mused with downcast eyes.

“Not fond of dolls?” he guessed in what was more meant to be a joke but your guilty expression told him he had hit the nail on the head.

“There is another room, but… it’s next to my own. I hope you won’t mind?” Kento stalked forward and tilted his head in the direction of the room next to his.

You trotted after him and away from the prying eyes of the dolls in their fancy house, vowing silently not to enter that room again. You reached for him, anxious fingers clinging to the shirt encasing his bicep and tugging like a frightened child might do. It was his turn to freeze, his stare fixed on where you held him until he found your eyes and questioned the gesture without a word.

“You won’t tell her, will you? I just…” You shook your head and feigned a smile, you were being silly after all. “Nightmares as a child, that’s all.”

“My lips are sealed.” He smiled kindly until your hand fell away. “Now, come inside and see if this will do.”

He didn’t know what he’d do if it wasn’t, although he didn’t expect you were an overly demanding house guest even with the little he knew about you. He wasn’t above giving you his bed if it were necessary but it would be a last resort.

This room was decorated in soft pastel shades that were far less bright than the blue of Karin’s. The bed was turned down with what appeared to be an identical grey duvet to the one in the master bedroom.

There was a small vanity set opposite the window and a writing desk in the far corner. Everything was neutral in here, wiped clean as if it had never been occupied and it made you feel safe and warm.

“It’s perfect.”

Sitting on the corner of the bed, you glanced at Kento who stood respectfully in the door. He wasn’t looking at you, instead his eyes were wandering as if he were checking everything was clean enough. His frame filled the doorway, shoulders broad and imposing. Except you didn’t find him imposing, and that was the problem.

He must be at least five years older than you, not that you cared, you were a young woman not a teenager. You were reminded of how long you had gone without a boyfriend or even a lover. One night stands and casual situationships were never your thing so it had been some time since you had last felt an attraction like you did now.

This whole day felt like a fever dream.

You needed to rein in your train of thoughts but it was hard when Kento took a step deeper inside and the air seemed suddenly thick like syrup. His hands were deep in his pockets and finally he blew out a breath, making it easier for you to breathe too.

“If you’re sure. I’ll go grab your suitcase and bag for you,” he offered quietly.

It had to be your imagination but it seemed like he was struggling as much as you were. Although likely for a different reason. You were an unexpected guest and he very much seemed the type of person who was set in routine. You nodded your thanks and let him slip away.

“He is your best friend’s brother, get your act together woman! Stop lusting over him,” you scolded yourself in a hushed whisper.

It was going to be a long two weeks, that was for sure.

[sincerelyrki]

PIKA PIKA

↳ NISHIMURA RIKI SMAU

fate works in different ways, sometimes it even comes disguised as a life sized pikachu and a clumsy idol.

SYNOPSIS ➙ Niki knew that the pikachu’s on stage with them were real people dressed in a costume but that doesn’t mean he can’t get shocked after accidentally revealing one of their identities. his shock quickly changed to amusement as the revealed pikachu could only think of one thing to say as the tension in the room heightened- “pika pika?” it’s not like you could avoid him after humiliating yourself either, you still have all of tour left.

PAIRING ➙ idol!riki x nonidol!fem!reader

WARNINGS + GENRE ➙ smau. fluff. riki is down bad. forced proximity. opposites attract. reader is the leader of a 5 member dance group. angst. friendly fighting. real fighting (js one scene). overprotective riki. jealousy. yn gets in some fights. older reader (a year older). more to be added if necessary.

STATUS ➙ STARTED ! HIATUS [march 27, 2024]

TAGLIST ➙ OPEN ! send an ask or comment to be added

FEAT ➙ chuu (soloist). jaehyun (boynextdoor). wonbin (riize). ricky (zerobaseone). yuma (&team)

A/N ➙ i lied this one comes before he loves me not 😝😝 anywaysss

spotify playlist

PROFILES

| chuu’s chu (plural)

| emflopout

| yn’s dads

| fan accounts aka the holy grail

CHAPTERS

| one : if you want something to play with get a pikachu

| two : Shit day 😔

| three : girl he doesn’t want you [ written ]

| four : merrily we fall out of line…

| five : 1 2 3 any boys here? ❤️😍😝

| six : cake and candles my brother [ written ]

| seven : take off your sunglasses

| eight : fuck ass tom holland

| nine : reliable car max?

| ten : twenty questions

| eleven : MADE IT TO THE PRIV 💪

| twelve : my pini <3

| thirteen : i think i have a stalker

tba + titles are subject to change

@ SINCERELYRKI do not plagiarize, translate, copy or repost

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day thirteen: somnophilia kink

>>> y'all i worked breeding into the plot again officer take me away!! i just love soft and domestic sho, and it also totally feels like something he'd love!!

>>> starring: shouto todoroki x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: fingering, oral (fem receiving) somno, breeding, reader hates working lmfao, creampie obviously, mating press. >>> wc: 2.6k >>> event masterlist

 shouto loves relaxing. he was sure this was something everyone enjoyed, until he met you. you seemed to stay occupied at all times, delving into hobby after hobby to keep yourself busy. being professional heroes was draining enough, he thought, so why were you indulging in running clubs and extra gym sessions? why did you spend more time learning new recipes and anxiously cleaning the house these days than lounging in bed with him watching tv like you used to? of course, his first assumption is that he has done something to push you away or upset you, as he’s prone to doing. he’s naturally aloof and a bit distant, all things he tries to push past to connect to you, the only person who makes him feel warmth were his coldness usually lies. you know how he is, how he can come off a bit frigid and almost mean without thinking about it, or how he struggles to read your body language and cues—always missing the hints you throw him. you’re used to it by now, far more accommodating than a grown man like him deserves, so he figures this time he needs to get to the bottom of this and make it up to you and prove he can be in tune with your emotions too. 

you had grown restless, but it wasn’t all your husband’s fault. you felt so out of place these days, feeling awkward in your own role in life. you enjoy being a hero some days, other days you can hardly motivate yourself to get out of bed. work had become monotonous and meaningless, the streets of japan were safer than they had been in years past, so most of your days were spent patrolling and training if they weren’t consumed in paper work. you felt stagnant, and things were only complicated further by your conflicting emotions. all your friends from school were retired to spend time with their families or in the process of retiring to go home and take care of their parents or kids—and then there was you. a family would be…perfect, but it was a touchy subject with shouto and you didn’t want to press the matter just because you needed a change in life. so yes, you started tinkering around with hobbies to try and get your mind off of things, knowing you had accepted the possibility of not having children when you agreed to be his misses todoroki. he hadn’t taken the possibility completely off  the table, but you knew he wanted to broach the subject whenever he was ready. so you started using the home gym a little more, picking up books your girlfriends recommended, even working on your cooking skills all in an effort to feel something other than bored.

you didn’t associate your issues with shouto, still acting as normal as possible in other regards other than your drifting away. you really didn’t think he’d notice given the lack of emotional fluency he had, hoping if you could replace the void growing within you that everything would go back to normal and you could be as happy as you were five or ten years ago. but he had noticed, of course. he missed his wife alongside him, but it wasn’t his fault that he had trauma associated with family and was unsure of himself as a father. it certainly wasn’t his fault that when you got married right out of high school you hadn’t cared—knowing that you love him either way. this is still true, of course, but back then you hadn’t imagined  you’d feel this way, this tired of the life you worked so hard for. so ready for the next chapter, especially as ochako welcomes baby midoriya number two and you’re left in charge of the elder brother at the hospital. 

the little boy was only about four or so, absolutely adorable and the image of his father. he was a giggly kid, clinging to his “auntie” with excitement to meet his baby brother or sister. ochako called as soon as she was sure she was in labor, and you dropped everything to go support your closest friend, not that you needed an excuse to leave work early anyway. shouto was still working, of course, as a top five hero he was often kept busy. but that left you to wrangle the toddler on your own. it was way easier than you expected, even with the energetic little boy bouncing all over the waiting room waiting for his dad to come get him. he still conversed with you and ate his lunch like a good boy—though that’s because his parents were so good at raising him, but what would you expect from them? 

all the day proved to you was that you weren’t just making up solutions to your problems, having a family really is what you want. but still, you love your husband more than this want, so you’ll double down on your hobbies until you find something that sticks. 

he reads your texts over and over, waiting on you to get back from the hospital. he had set up a date, truly romantic when he tries to be, and when bakugou answers his calls. following his advice, he had your favorite dinner made and the dining room table was intimately set. ochako had her second baby, and that threw a minor wrench in his plans even lthough he was overjoyed for them, and for you for being their dependable friend in that moment. he sits at the table, all the food keeping warm in the oven as the wax of the candles starts to wane. he had flowers, wine, all the things he knew to try and connect with you and get to the center of your sleepless nights. 

when you walk in, he stands, smiling sheepishly. you smile back, though it doesn’t reach the entirety of your eyes. then you notice he’s guarding the table, and you creep closer. “hey, honey.” 

“welcome home, sweetheart.” he nods, stepping aside to show you the lovely dinner scene just for you. your heart melts a little at his effort, knowing it was always a great show of his love to do something like this, much preferring cuddle sessions and shared showers over grand displays of affection. 

“aw, shou.” you pout, giving him a big hug, “this is so pretty, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you giggle like everything is normal. he hums in thought, slender arms holding your waist as he stews over what to say. 

“you’ve been distant as of late.” he says without a trace of malice or disappointment. his words catch you by surprise–he did notice. he lets you go, pulling out your chair and tilting his head for you to sit. “why?” 

you clear your throat and sit, any charade you wanted to drum up crumbling in your brain. you can’t lie to him, but how could you approach this without feeling like you’re betraying his trust and wishes. you sigh. “i… i’ve just been trying to find new hobbies.” 

“you’re hardly sleeping, and i feel like i never see you anymore.” he frowns, making his way to the oven to retrieve the dinner the chef made. “what is it really, sweetheart? do you feel as if you cannot talk to me? is it something i’ve done?”  

you chew the inside of your lip as he assembles food on your plate. “i don’t enjoy hero life anymore. i’m ready for the next chapter, to feel important for other reasons.” you reply, not wanting to make him at fault for your whirlwind feelings as of late. 

he takes in what you say, smart enough to connect some dots. the picture you sent him of you holding baby midoriya in your arms and big brother proudly sitting on your lap was the happiest you’ve looked in some time. “the next chapter…as in, motherhood?” 

you look up at him, studying his mismatched eyes for a hint of how he feels. you sigh, “i know, i know. i guess that’s why i’ve been a little withdrawn…i feel bad about it, i know what you want.” you chuckle sadly, sipping at the wine provided. “really, i’m trying to get over it, i guess. maybe we could get a dog?” 

now he was disappointed. not in your desires, but that you put his possible feelings above your actual ones without ever speaking to him about it. just like you, he had changed as well. he wasn’t the same unsure eighteen year old he was when you married him, and though he still held trauma from his childhood, he had long accepted the concept of being a father since you were by his side. he could do anything if he was with you. he cuts into the meal and gives you a sympathetic glance. 

“you should have told me. a family…i think i’m ready for that, if you’re saying you’re ready to stay home in that way.” he hums, knowing you wouldn’t put yourself in harm’s way after becoming a mother. you gape at him, replaying his words over in your head. 

“wh–i don’t want you to do it just for me.” you double down, blindsided by his revelation. had you really put yourself through all of this for nothing? 

“i would do anything for you.” he replies instantly, and he meant that with no restrictions. “but i had considered it again around the time izuku welcomed his first.” 

“meaning you were ready four years ago?!” you almost cry out just from the shock alone, and he chuckles softly. 

“not ready to have one then, but i knew i would want some eventually. now is a good time. we’re stable. you made me nervous.” he sips at his wine, eating his food nonchalantly. 

“i made you nervous? i–” you sputter, still grappling with the fact that shouto was more than willing to try for a baby. 

“i thought i messed up, you were drifting from me. i wish i had known all you wanted was a child.” he hums thoughtfully, a full plan coming together in his head to comfort both of you. “and you haven’t been getting enough sleep for weeks, so i’ll make sure you get both tonight.” 

you took that to mean that he’ll fuck you to sleep, another thing he’s prone to do at times. so you shower and meet him in bed, trying to repress your giddiness. you didn’t notice the devious smirk your husband gave you as you sink into his arms. he pulls the blankets over you both, leaning in to give you the routine kisses before bed, and then he turns over like he’s going to sleep. 

you look at the ceiling in the dark with confusion. did he forget or change his mind? 

“you have to go to sleep before i’ll give you that child, sweetheart.” he speaks into the night, making your heart pound with a mix of frustration and intrigue and warmth at how he cares for you, as worked up as you were for him now, you groan and turn over. your brain is quiet as it’s your heart that races for once, and eventually you’re able to drift to sleep. 

he waits a few hours to make sure you’re good and asleep, his whole plan would be ruined if he woke you up. shouto loves you more than anything, and he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he was worried. you had to be well rested, especially if you hoped to give him a baby after all. so only when he hears your quiet snores and deep breathing does he scoot closer, gently positioning you on your back. you dressed in a little nightgown in anticipation of him anyhow, so it was easy for him to locate your waiting bundle of nerves. he rubs you carefully, drawing small circles over your hood as you squirm the slightest bit beside him. he slides his fingers down to the familiar hole beneath, nodding at the feeling of slick appearing, your sweet body was responding to him. he crawls between your legs and carefully pushes your nightgown up over your chest, completely bewitched at the sight of your nipples perking up and goosebumps covering your perfect body. 

he thinks it’s almost ridiculous to think he wouldn’t want children with you. you’ve been in his life since his ua days and no one knew him like you did. you were someone so clearly meant to be a mother, it would be a crime not to give you the family you deserve. he easily parts your thighs, massaging and kneading the thickness he finds there as he lowers his face to your slick cunt. he’s always so gentle, but no time more than now as he hopes to remedy all your problems in one fell swoop like a good husband should. he laps at your center, angular nose bumping against the sensitive clit nestled above until he can hear your breathing change. he didn’t think he’d like it this much, but knowing that your body responds to him even subconsciously has his dick growing in his pants. you taste just as good as usual, growing wetter against his face with every passing second. he slides his fingers in, needing to know when you came. you spasm around the digits as his mouth focuses your swollen clit, and he knows you won’t take much longer. he may need his time understanding emotions and the like, but he knew your body like he knew his own. a few more flicks of his tongue over your nub and pumps of his fingers tickling your insides has you unraveling, and even in your sleep you look majestic cumming on his face. 

he shoves himself out of his boxers, admiring the way you still jerk when he presses his his fingers to your sensitivity. he draws your thighs around his slender hips, angling his pretty cock to your folds. he nuzzles the length along your folds to coat himself despite the pre oozing from his pink tip, taking a second to enjoy that sight in and of itself. then he sheaths himself, careful not to hiss too loud. you feel amazing, clenching him so tight even in the r.e.m stages of sleep, it’s almost too much for him to process. this was the first attempt at a baby, a family he never imagined himself having until he married and matured with you. it’s intoxicating, really, the way he rocks his way into your waiting pussy, silky walls guiding him in and out without any resistance. he has to bite down on his lip not to grunt and moan at how you feel, promising himself that he’d stay quiet and fill you to the brim. he pushes your legs to your chest, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. you only pant softly as he draws in and out of you, figuring this deep angle would be the best for his seed. 

all you did was follow his orders, getting the rest he demanded in exchange for his cum, even though he really won in the end. getting you to sleep, getting to see your body recognize and beg for him, getting to shove his cock deep and impress himself on your womb was more than a fair trade. a soft grunt slips past his lips as his hips stutter. his balls feel unimaginably heavy and then they don’t, his heavy load being fucked even deeper by the determined man you married. even when his warmth pools around his own dick as it goes soft inside you, he doesn’t quit, rolling his hips until he’s too sensitive to continue. 

he’s the one that doesn’t get any sleep that night, watching you sleep with his seed tucked in you only inspired him to take breaks and keep pumping you full, resigning himself to rest hours later  when he can’t possibly cum anymore.

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 8 - Catharsis

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 9

Word count: 4,900

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, thoughts of death, heavy drinking, use of alcohol and sexual behavior as coping mechanisms. you know it's what you can expect from a blitzo-centered chapter. this happens right after the ozzie's chapter.

Blitzø is going to die alone. 

He’s going to die alone and no one will attend his funeral or even visit his grave other than to spit on it and his gravestone will read ‘Here Lies Blitzo Buckzo’ and nothing more because no one will be there to tell them to cross out the O and he most certainly won’t be a beloved anything. He'll just stay Blitzo Buckzo, forever.

And Blitzo Buckzo fucking sucks. 

Sometimes he wishes he was able to think before he spoke. He never does much of that and he’s aware he’d probably have refrained from hurting half the people he’s hurt if he could just keep his damn mouth shut. He didn’t think about this all that much… except for when he did. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Her voice rings in his head non-stop, like one of those annoying fucking church bells he’d come across once in the living world that ring every single hour, making it unable for its existence to be forgotten.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

It rings over and over again, stubborn, and it just won’t fucking go away.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Blitzø drives home on his own, but not in silence. He turns the radio on and the volume up until he figures it must be loud enough that he’ll have trouble hearing his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. The shit thing about thoughts is that they’re not something you can just turn off when you get sick of them. They follow you everywhere, all the time, inconvenient and impossible to get rid of. He proceeds to ignore the songs that come on in favor of mumbling incoherent things under his breath in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that he’s not bothered by everything that just happened.  Things like I can think about people’s fuckin’ feelings and think you’re so much better than me, well fuck you and rich fuckin’ asshole thinks he’s hot shit and probably suckin’ face right now. 

You know, things that prove he doesn’t care one bit. 

Whatever.

He parks the van without a care, still too busy mumbling to himself, leaving it askew, taking up almost half of the parking spot next to his own. The old lady from 22 is gonna be pissed at the inconvenience. Well fuck her too. He doesn’t spare another thought on that. 

He dreads the walk up the stairs to the apartment, wishing he lived somewhere with an elevator, or in a house, or in a super sick fancy mansion where he used money as toilet paper when he took a shit because he was just that rich. Actually, scratch that, that sounds uncomfortable. At least his shitty apartment with limited hot water and four flights of stairs before it had real toilet paper, and it was the nice kind even, he always made sure of it even if it was a little more expensive. 

His little luxuries start to sound stupid when he’s been spending so much time around Stolas and all his fancy stuff.

When he opens the door and enters the apartment, his first immediate thought is to knock on Loona’s door. He groans once as he walks towards it and then once again when he spots the note she left taped to it. ‘Tex invited me to a party. Don’t wait up.’ Yeah of course he fucking did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Does he? 

He does. He thinks he does, at least. Maybe not all the time, but why else would he have said those things to her other than to protect her feelings? It’s not his fault if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She needed to kill those feelings and if she wouldn’t then he would, fuck being the bad guy. In fact, fuck her too! He could so think about other people’s feelings.

He groans a third time at the thought of spending the night all alone, because he already knows what being alone makes out of him, and he doesn't like it one bit. If he could, he’d never be alone, not even for a single second, ever. Maybe that way he wouldn’t be so pathetic and so sad, because that’s what being alone made of him: pathetic and sad. 

It’s why Blitzø used to hate weekends. 

Satan, he fucking hated them. Why couldn’t every day be a work day? Why would they need a break? If it were up to him, there would be no such thing as a weekend. Because on weekends he had nothing to distract him from the ever-growing nothing in the pit of his chest and that wasn’t much fun at all.

Until Y/N accepted the job at I.M.P.

Before that, they used to speak almost exclusively through text, extremely inconsistently. He’s never really been the greatest at texting, but he could spam her with stupid memes and pictures of him doing random things throughout his day and horse doodles that she didn’t seem mad about receiving. They spent a whole year like that, only meeting in person a few times here and there.

When he offered her the job he promised himself not to have any expectations because, well shit, why would she trade in an obviously well-paying job, with her best friend as her boss, where she’d been working for years on end without having to hurt or kill anybody, for whatever it was he was asking her to do? 

But then she said yes.

It wasn’t long until he figured out they weren’t all that different from each other. Apparently, as much as she liked to complain about needing a break, just to annoy him, she dreaded weekends too. Not that she’d just admit that point-blank, but they did go out on on a Friday night after work and she did drink one too many and she sighed and complained about having to go home and it was all so much like him. ‘I don’t wanna be alone, Blitz,’ she’d told him. 

He didn't wanna be alone either.

And so he took her back home and he slept on her couch and he stayed there the next day, keeping her company and, honestly, enjoying hers. 

That’s how their tradition started. Almost every single weekend, the two will find themselves in either of their apartments, in the ugliest clothes they own, to cook or order something extremely greasy and unhealthy and marathon a shit-ton of movies, staying in on Saturday after going out somewhere on Friday. Loona would routinely call it ‘patheticville’ and ‘loser day’ and things like that. 

He doesn't hate weekends anymore. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

And now he’d fucking gone and done this. 

He still wanted to fight, then. To argue, to scream, to yell. He wanted them to do it too. To get down and dirty and scream back at him. He wanted a reason to react.

Blitzø has always been very good at reacting. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than you own?

But how was he supposed to react to that? The thought of grabbing his phone and texting her something along the lines of ‘fuck you and your pet bird too’ crosses his mind for a moment and, shit, maybe he is a prick, and he was gonna die alone wasn’t he? He was sure to if he kept doing this kind of thing. 

And maybe he fucking deserves it. 

Sometimes he wonders just how he’s going to die. Will it be peaceful? He hopes not. He sure as shit does not deserve peaceful. Maybe it could at least be cool. Maybe he could go down in a super badass shootout in the human world or a cool-as-fuck sword fight or something. Or maybe he’ll die in some dumbass way like tripping on the sidewalk and cracking his head open on the pavement. Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs. A stupid send-off for a stupid motherfucker. 

He throws himself on the couch instead and curls up into a ball, wishing he had a big royal-size bed with soft sheets and like three or four fluffy pillows, or even a simple twin-sized one, or at least that the couch was a pull-out. 

He grabs his phone and inevitably goes where he always goes when he feels like this- his ‘people I care about’ folder. He swipes through the various pictures. The ones of himself with I.M.P. in the living world, the one he made Moxxie pose with him for with them pointing their guns at each other, the one with Millie when she still had her long hair. The one from the day of Loona’s adoption, the one he took of Stolas sleeping next to him. The selfie with Verosika, the one he secretly took of Y/N watching the screen when he first showed ‘Spirit’ to her. 

And then he lands on the one. The one with Barbie and his mom. 

Blitzø is a 35 years old single father who kills people for a living. He’s been handling his own shit for almost two decades now. But in this moment… he just wants his mama.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

What would she have thought of that?

Yeah, he should have known it would be a ‘cry himself to sleep’ kind of night.

Blitzø doesn’t know for how long he’s been passed out when he wakes up disoriented. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and that probably explains why his body ached so much with how uncomfortable the position he’d slept in was. He wakes up with the barking sounds of Loona’s special ringtone and scrambles to pick it up. 

“Loonie baby? You alright? Did something happen to you, are you hurt?”

“No, Blitz. I just- can you just come pick me up?” She sounds like she’s been crying. Fuck, no, his baby needs him. No time to be sad.

He’s up in a second. “On my way. Send me the address.” He hangs up, searching for his car keys (which he found between the couch seats) and running down the stairs.

Loona went two rings down to Gluttony for this party. It makes sense, he supposes. He’s more of a Lust Ring party kind of guy himself, but he’s heard Gluttony parties got crazy. He accelerates as fast as the shitty van will let him and gets there pretty quickly, only to find her outside, still crying.

He rolls down the window before he even stops the car completely. “Hey, Loonie. How ya doin’, you alright?”

She wipes a tear with the back of her hand and enters the car with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna go.” She sounds anything but fine.

He’s about to ask her what happened when some fuckface he definitely doesn’t remember calls him by name. The wrong one. “Hey! That sounds like Blitzo!”

“The ‘O’ is silent, asshole!”

“Hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?”

“No, I’m just here picking up my daughter.”

The guy walks up to Loona’s window, and she hides her face from him with her hands, embarrassed. “Oh, shit, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” She yells out, and it stings a bit, regardless of being objectively true. 

“Oh, man, you’re already leaving? Things just got started! Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitzø groans, annoyed by the insistence. “No, no, thank you, but I think Loonie wants to head back now.” 

Some other weirdo approaches the van, leaning on the passenger’s window. “Huh, the hottie wants to leave?” Come on, right in front of him? 

He instinctively starts to growl. “Watch it.”

“I mean, we could stay a little longer,” Loona tells him.

He sighs. He’s not normally one to turn down a party, especially one with free booze, but he feels that’s probably what he should do.. “I think we need to go, ‘kay? I think it’s been a long night.”

“Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeeeaaase?” She gives him the goddamn puppy dog eyes and she knows he can already hardly resist fulfilling her requests.

Well, if she insists. He could definitely use a drink…

“Okay, fine. Maybe one drink.”

… Or a good old night of drinking to forget.

Blitzø downs two tequila shots before he’s even made it into the house. He downs four beers at rapid speed as soon as he does manage to get inside, crushing the cans and cheering loudly when he was done, and then suddenly he finds himself saying yes to a keg stand. It’s so easy he can do it in his sleep. Fuck being too old for this, he’d never be too old to have fun. And he can handle so much more than a keg stand. “Ha-ha! That was nothing, bitch! Give me a real challenge!”

Beelzebub herself appears in front of him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere (or maybe he’s just drunk), all cheers and neon colors and psychedelic paraphernalia floating around her, and she does challenge him. “Oh yeah? Wanna fucks with the big bitch, imp boy? I got a challenge for ya.” 

Someone somewhere murmurs “He’s gonna die.”

Now that sounds like a challenge he can get behind.

Vortex walks up to them, carrying two huge gallons of something and placing them on the floor between him and the Sin. “Aaaaight, let’s do this! From Bee’s personal supply, the hardest shit there is.” He crouches down to Blitzø’s height. “You ready, my man?” 

Fuck, this better fucking kill him alright. “Bring it, barky! I will drink you under this fucking table, you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had.” He struggles trying to pry the gallon open, and Bee uses her magic or whatever to make them levitate, extending a straw from it. Of course she’d flaunt her magical powers and her easy fucking life to him.

“Alright, shit-talker, but there hasn’t been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game, so you better bring the fire, baby!.” 

“Ohh, is Queen Bee too scawed to lose to a widdle imp like me?” He bets she is. And he bets she’ll be embarrassed when she loses to him (because she is going to lose). Fucking big names like her always are. 

“Oh, okay. Let’s get it on, you little bastard!”

Vortex signs for them to begin and it takes about two seconds for Blitzø to have downed about a fourth of it already, but why stop there? He pulls the straw out and pours the drink straight into his mouth, downing the entirety of it at light speed. He’s so quick Beelzebub even stops chugging her own, amused… Concerned? Noo, no way. Amused. 

He climbs on top of the huge gallon to be at face level with her and properly rub it on her face, high on the adrenaline of it all (and perhaps a little bit on the buzz from the extremely strong drink too). “Yeah, who’s the queen now?”

Loona cheers for him loudly, and it fills him with joy when she proudly yells out “yeah! That’s my dad!” Yeah. That’s damn right. 

Bee lets her own unfinished gallon fall down to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yeah, definitely impressed. “Well, fuck me. That’s a first. I haven’t had a first in a while. That was magical, seriously. Impressive. I tip my crown to you, imp boy. Respect.” Fuck her still calling him imp boy, but she’s actually admitting his victory and shes bowing to him, as she fucking should. 

She howls, every hellhound around following suit, and Blitzø feels on top of the world. 

Why does the world start spinning when you get yourself on top of it? 

He almost falls to the ground, but then he’s getting held up by a bunch of strangers like a cool-as-fuck goddamn rockstar and, shit, why had he stopped getting wasted and doing this kind of thing every night again?

He doesn’t exactly remember when people started doing body shots off of him but he does remember getting freaky with a few of them, which did very little to make him feel good and honestly felt a little gross with the amounts of drinks getting spilled all over and making things rather… sticky, but it was doing wonders to his thought problem. 

Who would have known having four strangers’ tongues inside of you at once could be a great way to muffle the unsolicited thoughts in his head?

The second those people fuck off somewhere else the thoughts come in again, though. Stolas hiding his face in shame behind the menu. Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? Y/n unable to look him in the eye. Are you worried someday I may have enough of it as well? Fizz is gonna hate him forever. You’re not my real dad! Verosika will always regret him. We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle? Y/n’s crying face, Stolas’ disappointed one. Oh, they both had such fuckable faces didn’t they? Which reminded him: he really wanted to fuck someone.

He’s making out with a guy whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he doesn’t even remember when Loona pulls him off of him. “Oh, piss on a dick! What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?”

“This guy,” he grins, pointing to the unnamed man, who now stands still behind him. Wasn’t it obvious?

“It looks like you’re in the middle of a goddamn orgy. Stop!” Oh shit. Loona saw all that? An orgy does sound like some real fucking fun right now. Wait, focus, Loona. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t expect you to come here and see any of this, Loonie, I’m so sorry, but it’s a party! I’m just having fun with uh… uh…” he turns back around to the man Loona pulled him off of. “The fuck is your name again?”

“Dennis.”

Ew. “Christ on a stick, you would be a Dennis. Get the fuck away from me! I’m not fucking a Dennis tonight. I need a Monica or an Alejandro here, stat.” He’s genuinely surprised that works when some hunky dude pulls him into his huuuge chest. Fuck yeah. “Better.”

Loona punches his Alejandro in the face, and he sincerely doesn’t give a fuck about it, because the world is spinning again, which is weird because this time he does not feel like he’s on top of it at all. In fact, it feels like the world is the meanest dom top ever and he’s a whiny, whiny bottom just sore all over from getting spanked ‘till his ass hurt. Not in a good way.

He falls back on Loona, and she catches him. “You don’t need anyone else sucking your face, freaky weirdo.” She throws him over her shoulder. “You need to drink something other than beelzejuice.”

She pulls him into the van, and she doesn’t rush to get home, because, according to her, she can see he’s already about to throw up. No he’s not, no sir! Ma’am. Loonie. 

Whatever. 

His mind clears a little as they make their way back home, and he pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Thankfully it’s still there.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass? That’s gonna make you dizzy.”

“Gotta… gotta draw a thing.”

“You gotta draw a thing?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, as if that was enough information for everything to be self-explanatory, even nodding his head yes for emphasis. He surprisingly manages to take his time and put real effort into doodling it, showing it to Loona before sending it.

“Does it look like I did it drunk?” He slurs, letting out an unintentional burp.

“It actually looks pretty good, Blitz.”

“Okay.” 

“So. Who’d you call stupid?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me dad again?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

He presses send and clicks on Stolas’ contact next, only to see there’s an unread message in their chat.

Stols:  I’m sorry if anything I said or did offended you tonight. 

Ha. Bet you really fucking are. 

Still, he’s not Stolas’ fucking boyfriend. What was there to expect from him? Why would he expect anything? 

Blitzy: ITZ WUTEVS

To Blitzø’s surprise, Stolas begins typing immediately, as if he’d been waiting obsessively for his reply.

Stols: Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie’s?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about? Blitzø wanted nothing more than to bury the memories of tonight the deepest under the ground he possibly could. But of course Stolas would want to talk about it.

He always wants to fucking talk about shit.

Blitzy: Y?

Stolas types for what feels like forever, and it must have been, seen that they’re now only one street from the apartment complex, before he sends in a huge-ass paragraph. 

Stols: I’m sorry! Nevermind, it’s not a big deal. I was just worried about you. You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. I’m sure things will be fine with Y/N, she likes you very much, I can see it. Maybe I read too much into everything, though. Not everything is about me, haha. I’m  glad that’s not the case. I wasn’t upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren’t and obviously you can handle a stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, and Y/N says she’ll talk to him about it, but I thought it was funny myself. What he said about me at least. I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over. 

Now that is too much to fucking deal with right now. Which means he won’t. 

Blitzy: SHUR.

He clicks out of Stolas’ chat, taking one last glance at Y/N’s before turning his phone off. She hasn’t seen what he sent yet, and that’s actually okay. 

Loona parks the van messily, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and letting the car occupy some space from the neighbour’s spot. He doesn’t even think before asking her to fix it.  “Sweetie, could you just park it a little more to the right?”

“Why?”

Yeah, Blitzø, why do you even care? “Well I don’t want that freaky cat lady to be up my ass about it tomorrow.” Yeah, that. Sure.

She doesn’t seem to find it in her to argue or even as much as groan, simply readjusting the car. She has to carry him over her shoulder again and all he wishes on the way up this time around is that he were a little more sober. She plops him down on the couch and he curls into himself once again while she grabs him a glass of water. 

Nothing to distract him from his thoughts now. 

“I had a really shitty day,” he tells her.

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you drank like five gallons of who-knows-what?”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“The person you called stupid?” 

He nods, hiding his face from her when the tears start coming in. ��Fuck, Fizz was right. I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?” Blitzø feels whatever consciousness he’d gained back slipping away again by the second, this time from the need to sleep rather than the alcohol. At what point did he get so tired?

“Be where?” Loona asks, and he’s too out of it to respond properly, only mumbling half-coherent things like lonely and die alone over and over. “I’ll be there, dad," she tells him anyway, and covers him with a blanket, the softest one they own. “Now go the fuck to sleep,” she orders, and he does hear it, he just doesn’t have the strength to say anything in response as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, his last thoughts being that at least he can’t think about anything while asleep and that… 

He vomits all over the living room floor. 

“Oh, fuck, I did need to throw up.”

[. . .]

You feel stupid when it’s Fizzarolli who finds you crying in Ozzie’s waiting area. He skips his way to the room, humming along to some song you can’t quite make out, and he almost doesn’t see you on his way into the office. He hears you sniffling, though, and turns to face you. It takes him a couple seconds to process that it’s you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Um. You okay there?”

You look up at him, but it doesn’t feel like you can say anything yet. 

“I-” He motions behind him with his thumb. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna get Ozzie. Stay here, yeah?”

You don’t even know why exactly you’d asked Stolas to send you here when you were still mad at Ozzie. Or maybe not mad. Just… sad about everything that spiraled out of what he did. 

Then again, did you even have anywhere else to go? You could absolutely not make the night worse for Millie and Moxxie by showing up at their place, thinking of Blitzø made you sad and Stolas was not an option. You had Ozzie, though. And you know you always will, despite whatever stupid shit one of you might do. 

And it honestly beats going home to a big pile of nothing. 

Ozzie appears shortly, Fizz having done as promised and fetched him. Fizz doesn’t come back, though, letting you and Ozzie have a moment to talk on your own, which is nice of him.  

“Hey, pretty babe. Fizz said you were here.” He looks you up and down, worried. “Are you crying?”

“Why did you do that?” 

“What?”

“Why did you fucking sing about all that, why did you- it was so humiliating, Oz, fuck!”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It got out of control. I didn’t even know you would be here tonight. You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming either.”

“You wanna tell me what that means?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Alright. That’s okay. I am sorry, though. We took the joke too far and I realized too late that it wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t. So please don’t fucking do that again. It’s humiliating enough to… fuck... and everybody saw it, and- I…” You groan in frustration, struggling to get your words out. 

“No more about Stolas or any of you. Okay? Promise.” He sits down next to you on the fancy couch and he lets you lean on him. “Did something happen between you?”

You hesitate before speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I am stupid. Of course he’s ashamed to be seen with us.”

“Stolas?”

You nod. 

“Did he… tell you that?”

“Well he didn’t deny it.”

“Okay." He takes a deep breath, probably trying to think of how to handle the situation. "You’ll have time to think about all of this. Alright? Now you’re coming with me, you’re taking a bath and you’re sleeping over, and we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. There’s no need to hurt yourself more thinking about it right now.”

He stands up and turns to leave the room, but looks back when he doesn’t hear you do the same. You’re still sat sit still on the couch.

You look up at him. “Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You repeat yourself.

“What- of course not. Did somebody say that to you?”

You don’t reply. 

He purses his lips together, thinking. “Are they worth feeling stupid for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone through this before.”

“It’s different, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s worse. They’re not hurting you back this time around, they’re just hurting you.”

You decide he was right. You don't want to talk about this right now. “Can we please not talk about it?”

He hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Course, babe.” He grabs your hands and pulls you up. “Come on.”

All the crying makes you so tired you’re almost passed out the second you lie down on the soft, silky bedsheets of Ozzie's guest room bed. Taking a look through your texts before you let yourself fall asleep, you click on Stolas’ contact once you see a notification for an unread text. 

Stolas: I am truly sorry if I did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable with me tonight. It’s not your obligation to talk Asmodeus  out of doing anything and I did not feel embarrassed because of you or Blitz. If you need space from me I will understand, but I want you to know that is not how I feel. And, for the record, I don’t care what that Verosika person said about you. I hope you’re alright. 

It is way too late and you are way too tired to process or deal with all of that, and honestly? You still do feel stupid, and don’t want to further that feeling by replying to him immediately. That feels too pathetic- it feels like proving Blitzø right.

You’ll reply tomorrow.

You click on Blitzø’s contact next, which also had a notification signaling an unseen message, and you brace yourself for a 'fuck you’ text or something of the sorts. 

You can't keep yourself from smiling when you open the text, turning the phone off and just waiting for sleep come to you, and things feel a lot less shitty than just a second before.

Having friends is pretty fucking okay.

A/N: everybody say thank you @sweetadonisbutbetter and also wish them a happy birthday!! the adorable little doodle blitzo drew is theirs and they did it especially so i could put it in this chapter which is so nice of them and so fucking cool!!

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Ten)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,445

Warning: smut, love making, unprotected sex, cream pie, goodbyes

A/N: Sorry for the delay! I took a bit of a break! So I lied. We have one more part after this, followed by the epilogue!! I can’t believe this is almost done!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Eleven

Suguru sighed, his eyes looking over to the clock on the wall, the frown pulling out his lips. He would have to wake you up soon. Your plane to Europe left in four hours, and he still needed to help you pack. He hated to let you go. But at the same time, he wasn’t going to hold you back or make you give up on your dreams. You had spent a month with him, helping him through the trauma that still hurt with each passing day; it got easier to deal with.

You had helped break him from the chains that bound him down in grief. It was all thanks to you. So how could he knowingly keep you in Okinawa when you could live in the cottage you had dreamed about, which had become your muse over the years? The same cottage you had spent hours looking for?

He couldn't be the one to hold you back from that dream.

You stir next to him, humming as you push your face into your pillow before turning your head to look into Suguru’s eyes. There’s a gentle yet almost melancholic grin tucking at the corners of his mouth. You move in closer towards him, cupping his cheek in your hand, gently stroking it, savoring the warmth of his skin against your palm.

“Are you okay?” You noticed how he leaned into you, his eyes shut tight as if he was savoring your touch like you would disappear when he opened his eyes. “Did you have another nightmare?”

‘No, I’m just losing you,’ Suguru thought as he tried to muster his best smile. ‘But we’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of that.’

“No, there were no nightmares. But whenever you’re ready, we need to get up and get you packed.”

“Packed for what?”

“A surprise.”

You perked up, pulling Suguru close to your face, your lips inches from his, gently grazing over the soft skin. “I love surprises.” You kissed him hard, taking control and being the assertive one. Suguru's eyes shut as your teeth over his bottom lip before you gently ran your tongue, easing the slight stinging sensation left in your wake, begging him to let you in.

Your boyfriend knows that if he lets you take control, you will be cutting time short. He needs to get you to the airport, where your agent will be waiting at the gate with your documents, passport, and additional bags for your journey to Europe. He had taken the time all day yesterday evening to set this up so you could finally be at your cottage. Was he going to let you have your way and risk not getting you to the airport in time?

Absolutely.

You whine softly, smiling as your boyfriend grabs the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his as he opens his mouth for you. As you took control, dominating the kiss, stealing his breath away, his eyes shut tight, savoring the way you tasted how soft your body was pressed against his. He embedded the sounds you made into his memory: the soft cries and sharp intakes of breath as he ran his hands over your skin. Your best friend and boyfriend wanted this to last forever.

The way his hand gently stroked your hair while his other hand pushed your (his) shirt up your hips, allowing his hand to rest on your bare panty-clad hip. His fingers began toying with the waistband legally, not rushing to get it off you. That gentle teasing sensation had you melting as you felt his fingers gently graze over the band before moving further down to tease your upper thigh. It was the perfect kind of lazy foreplay that you’ve loved. It drove you crazy, having him touch you but not in the way you wanted, and while you love the romantic gestures and sweet, soft caress and lingering kisses, you also craved Suguru in a carnal way.

“Baby.” the sigh that brushes against your boyfriend's mouth nearly has his resolve shattering like a porcelain doll. You always made the prettiest sounds, especially when you needed him. But he shoves down that hungry field beast that is roaring at him to take you to push your face into the mattress and fuck you from behind. That was a tempting idea, but he didn’t want the last time you were intimate to be rough and greed-driven. He wanted it to be a time he could look back on and get off while you were away. “I need you.”

“Then have me.”

His words are so soft. You might've missed it if he hadn’t whispered them against your mouth. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, your slut coating the inside of your panties as you moan, straddling his hips. Your boyfriend‘s dark raven hair pulls against the pillows like ink spilled against paper. His eyes are narrowed with lust as his hands, your hips settle on them. Will you pull his shirt up and off your body? Since you both had to confess to how you felt about each other, your boyfriend had seen you naked underneath him over a dozen times, but this was the first time he had you on top.

Your breasts were the perfect size for him. God, he loved how pretty they were. They slightly jiggled with every movement as you sat back, tugging your panties off and throwing them somewhere across the room. Suguru made a mental note to find them when you were both done so he could shove them under his pillow. It would be like keeping a piece of you with him because he was going to miss you so fucking much that he needed a reminder of you.

Humming in pleasure, you ran your hands over his chest, grazing his nipples with your thumbs. His hips jerked up instinctively as his mouth fell, while your manicured nails continued, trailing further over his muscles, tracing over the large ‘X’ scar on his chest, a reminder of the accident. You loved your boyfriend‘s body as much as he loved yours. In this position, you could genuinely worship every inch of him and plan on doing just that.

Your soft touches and the hunger in your eyes fuel your boyfriend's desire. Suguru let out a grunt; his hips buck up against yours with every gentle touch, his eyes remaining shot. He was trying to somehow have his body record the sensation of your skin slowly trailing over his.

“Suguru, are you sure you’re okay?” He seemed out of it, like he had a lot on his mind. If he didn’t want to have sex, he didn’t have to force himself to please you

Suguru gently squeezed your hips. "I'm just memorizing every inch of you, remembering how beautiful you look and how warm your skin feels against your spine.” His eyes cracked open a sliver, and he found your flushed cheeks and face of awe looking down at him.

“Sugu—”

“ I just love you so damn much, princess.”

“I love you too.” Your hips slowly begin rocking against his already stiff and throbbing cock. “I wanna show you just how much I love you.” your pretty hands tugged down his pajama pant just enough to release his cock. “So why don’t you just relax, and I’ll take care of everything?”

Suguru wasn’t sure if it was possible, but he felt like his heart was beating inside his throat, making it dry and difficult to swallow. Watching you grinding your wet pussy over his throbbing erection was almost pornographic. From where he was, your breast continued to bounce with each lazy roll of your hips. Smearing you’re already sucking Cunt against him. Your arousal rubbed over the sensitive vein that ran down the underside of his cock had pre-dribbling out of the tip, smearing against his happy trail.

“Fuuck yes—” your boyfriend digs his fingers into your hips, “just like that princess, just like that~!”

“Haah~Suguru~ Suguru!” Words can’t even describe how good he feels against you. “I wanna ride you, please, pretty please?” How your voice breaks and your eyes flood with tears is almost too arousing. He wants you to beg and plead for more until the point that you are crying for his cock. Unfortunately, he found himself short on time and would have to save that fantasy for another day.

“Yes baby, please ride me, use me.”

You feel giddy, eager to try yet another position. You were reaching for the condom box so fast that you almost fell off your boyfriend, but he quickly caught you holding your ass, massaging it as he pulled you back up against him. Suguru watches you lick your lips as you reach into the box, but you pull out nothing. He stares at your face as you look inside the box with the pout.

“We’re out.”

Those two words did not just come out of your mouth. Your boyfriend sits up, staring at the box as if you were playing some cruel, impractical joke on him. Sure enough, to emphasize your point, you turn the box over and shake it. No shiny foiled packages fall out. This had to be one of the coldest jokes the universe has decided to play on him.

It’s not like you would never have sex again. He planned on coming to see you in Europe eventually. But who knew when that was going to be? Suguru would be stuck in Okinawa for another three months, and when he got home, he'd probably have a new commission before he had the chance to see you.

Why was life so cruel?

“Fuck.” Suguru grunted, falling back against the bed with a sigh. “That sucks.”

“Baby.”

“And we don’t have time to go get more; your surprise is time-sensitive.”

“Honey—”

“I’m sorry I ju—mmhm!”

Your hand clamped firmly down over Suguru’s mouth, preventing him from continuing to ramble anymore. “I have the IUD.” You whisper, rocking your hips slowly over his still-hard cock. “We can still do it if you want.” Suguru’s eyes widen as he sits back up, wrapping his arms around you as you pull your hand away from his mouth.

“You have the IUD?”

“Yep.”

“Since when?!”

You smirk, cock a brow at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got it in high school. My cramps were so bad, they recommended it.” Suguru’s face is a dusty rose color as he swallows hard. “I’m just saying it’s an option; I’m clean, obviously—but if you don’t wanna do it, that’s fine.” Dark hair falls on Suguru’s face as he shakes his head.

“N-No, I want to, it's just—I’ve never done it without a condom before. So it’s uhm,” His cock throbs eagerly at the idea of feeling your warmth wrapped around him without any latex. “It would be a new experience.”

“One you would want to experience with me?”

You feel your heart racing in your chest, like the wings of a hummingbird. Seeing Suguru blush, watching him slowly smile as he reaches down, grabs your ass, and massages it, leaves you aching for him. You grind down, finding his still-hard cock rubbing eagerly against your slick folds.

“I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else.”

Your lips are on his the second he stops talking and kissing him in a frantic, needy way. Your moans flood his mouth as he lays back down against the mattress, his hips bucking up into you, feeling your pussy twitch. He groaned out a needy laugh, tilting his head back as you broke the kiss to trail kisses along the side of his neck. You nip and suck at his skin, trailing your tongue down over his broad shoulders before you place both your hands on his chest, lifting yourself.

Looking down at him, you feel a certain fire kindling in your lower abdomen as heat pulls between your legs. You feel every inch of your body, every nerve screaming at you to take him. To have the most primal sex with him. Without any hesitation, you reach behind you, sitting back just enough for you to position his cock with your entrance.

The instant you begin sliding down on his cock, Suguru exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in. You were so tight, warm, and wet. So wet, nothing could have prepared him for how wet you were. It was taking everything in his power not to blow his load like he was seventeen.

“O-Oooh.” The soft sound that came from your mouth had Suguru’s eyebrows knitted together. “Oh fuck.” Your mouth was agape, your eyes narrowed, and a pretty flush dusted your cheeks and chest. “S-Suguru, your cock feels so—warm.”

Suguru felt multiple things in the span of zero point two seconds. His heart and cock swelled, his eyes went wide, pupils dilating as he stared solely at you, and his hands grabbed your hips, forcing you down further. You gasped, sliding further down his girth, your head falling forward as your nails dug into his shoulders as he stretched you out like he had done countless times in the last month, only this time was more intense.

You could feel him, how soft and warm he was. You could feel his veins that grazed over the deepest parts of you as Suguru continued to pull you down into his length. Only stopping one, your hips were flesh against his. He twitched and throbbed inside of you, wild. His fingers gently squeezed your sides, slowly trailing over the fantastic curves of your body. Each inch of skin he traveled across made your skin more sensitive, making you twitch around his velvety smooth cock, making you wetter.

“You’re wet.” hearing him say that while he laid underneath you made you wetter. “Fuck~ fuuuck Princess so fuckin’ wet.”

You slowly ease yourself off his cock with a whine before slamming back down. “Hnngh~ Suguru~” Nails dug harder into his skin, leaving crescent moon shapes in your wake as you tilted your head back, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“Princess~” he tensed his jaw, holding your hips tight as he whispered to you. "Fuck, Princess—just—just like that—"

You whimpered and lowered yourself further onto him faster. "F-Fuck." You breathed out lightly as you looked at your sweet boyfriend.

“Babe—fuck, fuck, fuuuck.” He hissed out, lifting his head slightly to watch you take his cock with each bounce. “Fuck, haaah, fuckin wet—so goddamn wet.” He was trying so hard not to thrust up into you, letting you have complete control.

Your eyebrows knitted together, and you gasped out slightly, rolling your hips back and forth. Making the tip of his cock rub perfectly against your g-spot. A warmth began spreading through your stomach as you peered down at Suguru with glossy eyes that were lost in pleasure. "Suguru~” The wet sounds of your fucking yourself on Suguru’s cock filled the room, making him dig his hands into your side harder.

Suguru looked glorious underneath you as he panted hard. He was getting drunk off of you and your tight walls as his eyebrows knitted as much as yours, if not more. "Princess." He growled, desperately trying not to fuck into you. "You're so pretty." He whispered as you laughed breathlessly, trying so hard not to cum.

You took a deep breath before pulling back, allowing yourself to start riding him faster. Your eyes were shut tight as you cried out with each rock of your hips. You were rolling them faster and harder against him. Seeing you so into it, the way your lips fell open, eyes rolling back, you looked so fucking pretty. Suguru was so happy he would get to imagine you like this while you were gone.

Suguru grunted softly, trying to hold on to himself. "F-Fuck— I-Im close already.—! Y-Youre taking me so deep." You could tell you weren’t doing much better than he was. Using all of the strength you could muster, you pulled yourself up and off his cock before slamming yourself back down on him.

“Then cum~ fill me up, Suguru~”

“Haaah! Nngh! Fuck!”

His eyes shot wide, and he let out a choked moan, loud enough for your neighbors to hear as he jerked up into you. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his thumb quickly found your clit rubbing it harshly as he fucked into you. You felt so full of his cum, so much so you were quick to follow him over the edge, body going rigid as you stared into each other's eyes as you came.

Suguru’s cum felt so hot inside of your lips pressed against his. He growled, sitting up, holding you tight against his chest as you both basked in the afterglow. He wanted this moment to last, for it to never end; Suguru wanted to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress without any remorse, to make love to you, to have you stay by his side. But he knew he couldn’t do that.

So, despite wanting to listen to what his body and heart wanted to do, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he shakily sighed against your mouth. You giggled, running your hands up and down his back as he smiled.

“Talk about a good morning.”

Was it a good morning? Not when he was about to watch you leave. There was nothing good about letting you go. But it was the right thing for him to do.

“Yeah,” he pressed a kiss against your cheek, “but we need to get going.”

“Oh! Right, the surprise!” You felt your boyfriend nod his head as he shifted underneath you. “I guess I should go shower.”

“Yeah.”

The next hour is weird. It’s not the excitement you often get when spontaneous trips are planned. This bizarre feeling had your heart in your stomach, all because of how Suguru acted.

For the first time in weeks, he seemed down. He was quiet as he helped you pack your bags, his eyes focusing on everything and anything but you as you got ready. Dressing in comfortable clothes as he instructed, he did not give you any more clues about what was happening. Not knowing what was happening when your best friend, who you could typically read like a book, was acting so standoffish had your anxiety on high alert.

Different scenarios of what could happen played through your mind like a bad sitcom on repeat. Was he angry? Upset over the fact you had done it raw? Or was he getting irritated with how close you guys were? Saying that you spent almost every day together, you could see if you wanted some space. If that were the case, he could ask you to stay at the condo. So, for him to pack your bags and a new laptop that you hadn’t even finished setting up, let you know something was happening.

You didn’t want to question what was going on in his head. You didn’t want to come off as some clingy, overly suspicious girlfriend. Especially since he was your best friend, Suguru would never do anything malicious, and you would hope that if he had an issue with something you were doing, you would come out and talk to you.

You could not deny the fact that his behavior was strange. And it continued to grow more with every minute. His eyes continuously darted towards the clocks, checking the time on his wrist on the wall. He had planned time-sensitive things, which you can see as clearly as day. What exactly was sensitive thought? You had no clue. Instead, I’m asking point-blank what was going on. Instead of questioning what was happening, you sat in the back of the car next to him as your driver began heading down the road.

Suguru could quickly feel the tension building between you. Since you had showered, his stomach had been in nothing but knots. Those not twisted into unbreakable bonds the second you both loaded into the car. He could feel your eyes lingering on him for an eternity. When he glanced at you, you quickly focused on your hands.

Was this the right way to go about this? Should he have told you what he had planned to do at the beginning of the day? Or was this just the easiest way to get through letting you go?

His second-guessing came to an abrupt stop as the driver took the exit to the airport. For a second, all of the anxiety and worry plaguing you for the last hour evaporated into the air. Fear was replaced with excitement as you pressed your hands against the window, eyes sparkling as you stared at the airport that was drawing closer.

“Are we going somewhere?”

‘You are.’ Suguru thought to himself as he shook his head.

“Oh, are our friends here?” When your boyfriend shook his head for the second time, you pouted, pursing your lips and thought as you glanced towards the car's roof.

There was a certain cuteness about your frustration trying to figure out what he had planned. But you would never figure this out. Not in one million years have you ever guessed what he was about to do.

The car pulls up to the curb, and Suguru is the first to get out, rushing into your side to open the door for you. You grab his hand, allowing him to help you out of the car as the driver grabs your bags from the trunk. When the driver finally pulled away from the curb, Suguru grabbed your stuff and headed into the air-conditioned airport.

“So we are going on a trip?” You laugh nervously, following him up to the elevators. “Are you just trying to psych me out?”

“Yes.”

Everything made sense, and you felt your shoulders relax as you rode the elevator up to the second floor, where Security was. As you looked to tease him for being so secretive, you saw the warm brown and dark hair of your editor waiting near the security check. She has two large suitcases by her side, and she’s typing away on her phone with one hand while holding a folder in the other.

“Utahime?” you question, your voice like a whisper as you cock an eyebrow at your agent and friend.

Suguru grabs your chin with one hand, lifting it slightly so you can look into his eyes. “You’re taking a trip.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope. “You’re going to Europe.” Time stands still as your eyes land on the envelope.

“What?”

The background noise of bustling travelers and messages being announced on the intercom is nothing more than white noise to you. You can hear the sound of your throbbing heart, and your ears, your chest; your eyes linger on your boyfriend’s hand. Europe? Why were you going to Europe, and more importantly, how the hell did Suguru know about Europe?

“Suguru, look I—“

“I had Utahime send in your acceptance letter last night. You’re going to stay at the cottage.”

The large airport seems to begin closing on you like a shrinking box. Your eyes dart towards your agent before up at your boyfriend, who has the softest yet saddest smile on his lips. The cottage is the same cottage you would have to stay in for two years. Two years away from your best friend who had just become your boyfriend after nearly two decades of being friends.

When Suguru notices the hesitation in your eyes and your whole demeanor, he gently takes your hand and turns it face up. Without so much as a word, he plays the envelope in your hand before placing his hand on top of it. That small, gentle gesture hurts like a thousand knives to the chest.

You open your mouth to speak to protest to do anything other than stand there like an idiot, but the words seem to fail you. The cottage is something you have always dreamed about. It was your inspiration. It had been your muse for years. You found that cottage in a magazine years ago had been the inspiration for your book series. But is it worth leaving Suguru for two years to stay there?

“Hey,” Suguru’s smooth, gentle voice pulls you out of the spiral you were spinning in. “We’re going to be okay.”

“I-I—but,” you sniffle, “what about you? I need to stay here with you. I want to be here with you to support you.”

“You have supported me.” Suguru quickly adds, easing some of the pain and doubt. “I’m going to be okay. You have no idea what your support, words, and shared truth has done for me.” He pressed his forehead against yours, sighing softly as you choked on a whimper. “You helped me realize I can heal. It’s going to take some time, but I know if I need to talk to you and hear that reassurance that everything is going to be okay, you’re just a phone call away. And I can’t thank you enough for that Princess. What I can do is encourage you to take an opportunity that comes once in a lifetime.”

There’s no doubt in his mind that he’s making the right choice. However, there is a tremble behind his voice as he desperately tries to hold himself together like a million pieces of microglass, which is much harder than it looks. Because he can see the hesitation in your eyes. You’re loyal; you don’t want to leave him. If you were given the chance, you would stay. But giving up on your dreams is something he wouldn’t be held accountable for.

“But it’s a two-year lease; I can’t get out of it if I go; I don’t even think I can’t get out of it now that the papers are signed.” You feel the tears in your eyes as they blur your vision.

A thumb reaches up and brushes away you’re straight tears. “I know it’s a two-year lease. But I promise you that we’re going to make this work.” you lean into his touch, chasing the warmth of his hand. “Like I said, I’ll call every day. I’ll see you. We can video chat. We’ll make this work.” You cry softly, leaning your face into the palm of his hand. “I waited almost two decades to be with you. Talking to you and telling you how much I love you will suffice me enough rather than waiting another two years to confess to you. I’ll take what I can get.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you more than you’ll ever know. But you have to go and see your muse.”

Your muse, the cottage, your inspiration. “Suguru.” He’s so selfless, telling you to chase your dreams even though he loves you. “I-I—” he nods, bringing you closer to his face.

“I know, Princess. I love you too.” He pulls you in and kisses you deeply, making you choke on a sob as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

The kiss had to be the most passionate kiss you’d ever shared. Love, desire, and agony were all conveyed in that one singular kiss. It hurt, god, to be saying goodbye. You deepened the kiss, holding onto him tight, not wanting to let go, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

However, Suguru pulled away first; if he let that kiss continue, it would end up with him begging you to stay. Contradicting everything he had told you up to this point. His forehead presses against yours as he stares into her eyes with the softest gaze.

“You need to go. Utahime has everything for you. Text me, please. I want a tour of that little cottage the second you get inside. I want to see that smile on your face. I want you to be happy.”

“Hey, love birds, can we get a move on? We still have paperwork to sign, and I can’t do that here at the security checkpoint.” Utahime interrupted your goodbye.

Suguru sighed, nodding his head as he helped put your backpack on. “Iori is right; you got stuff to do before your flight.” This wasn’t right. Saying goodbye so quickly felt like a nightmare. “Text me!” the love of your life shouts as Iori hurries forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards security.

The entire time you walked, you glanced back at Suguru, who was waving as you stood in line waiting to be called next to check your ID and passport. You felt your heart pounding in your ears as people got in the line behind you, blocking your view of your boyfriend, who was standing there watching you fade away. He smiled, holding his hand up and waving, but you could see the pain carved into his features.

Was this the last time you were going to get to see him? God knows how long until he could come down to see you. Suddenly, it felt too hot, your chest tightening as you tried to peek over the shoulders of the people behind you to glimpse Suguru. Your best friend, boyfriend, and your—everything.

He was your first friend in the strange city you had just moved to. He was there when you had a crush on flat-out refused to take your confession letter. He held you in his arms that night, comforting and telling you everything would be okay. Suguru always made sure to hold your drink if you went to the bathroom at the club. He always walked you home, even though you lived in the same apartment building.

Geto Suguru had been your first true love, your first for everything. You were willing to put everything you wanted to do on hold for him. You were so happy to come to Okinawa with him, to be by his side when he needed you. Just like he had been there for you when you needed help with your book. Suguru was more than your lover and boyfriend—Suguru was—your—.

‘And I love you more than you’ll ever know. But you have to go; you have to see your muse.’

You stopped, eyes going wide as reality hit you. You stood on your tip-toes, watching as Suguru turned, disappearing into the crowd of people lining up for security. Iori kept talking, dragging you closer toward the security agent, rambling on about everything you needed to do. All while Suguru drifted further and further away from you.

“When we sit down for lunch—” Utahime rambled on, only to gasp as your suitcase was tossed along with your backpack. “H-Hey!”

You were shoving your way through the crowd, ignoring the dirty looks and curses shouted your way. Not once did you lose your stride as you pushed further through the crowd, trying to keep your eyes on your dark-haired boyfriend, who slipped further and further away. He was getting too far! You had to get him to stop. Taking a deep breath, you did the one thing you could do: you screamed as you ran, breaking free from the line, your hair flowing as you stumbled forward.

“Suguru!!”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

ITHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72 @makingtimemine @strflp @angel-academia @xocandyy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 18+

WHISPERED SECRETS Masterlist

Summary: After four years your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive? 

Pairing:  Sisters ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader. 

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance. 

Warning: Explicit sex, fingering, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, punishment, unprotected sex, drinking, dirty talk, praising, degradation, spanking, spanking as punishment, teasing, hair pulling, arguments. Overuse of the name, baby.

A/N: Updating a day early. I almost have the story completed.

One more week before another smutty chapter. This is just pure plot again. 

Is ginger haired Yoongi his own warning?

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He lied. He promised that he would call you every day and he lied. You spent the two days leading up to him leaving, together.  You found out just how good of a cook he was and how bad you were compared to him. He tried explaining the art of producing and writing a song. You'll admit that one went over your head, but he seemed excited to talk to you about it. You jokingly asked him to write a song for you. He smirked, and with a kiss, he said he would. The first day he was gone, he did call like he said he would. The second day was a couple of texts. Third day, he left you on read, then the fourth…delivered. It's been two weeks now. Not one week but two. Fourteen days, a fortnight. 

“Jimin says that when they work, sometimes they stay up for days at a time. He probably crashed at the hotel to catch up on sleep,” Lisa tried to reason. 

“You really think he would ignore you?” Jisoo asks you as she pays for her coffee. You don't know how to answer that.  You wanted to be able to say, of course, he wouldn't, but you can't. You honestly can't. 

“You know he wouldn….” Lisa trails off as you three leave the coffee shop. You follow her line of sight to see who she is staring at. You squint your eyes a little harder. “Is that him?” She asks, pointing her finger at a couple on the sidewalk.

“Is his hair…red?” Jisoo questioned. “Orange?” 

The three of you move a bit closer but stay hidden behind some cars to get a closer look.  It was, she was right. Yoongi was here and he was right across the street. He was home and he didn't tell you. You watch him across the street talking to someone. A woman, a pretty blonde woman with long hair. She was taller than you, about his height. He wouldn't need to bend as much to her like he does with you. You can't hear them but whatever she said has him laughing. His gummy smile is on display, full and bright. She reaches up and gently rubs his arm over his green jacket and he doesn't push her away, he is familiar with her. He looks at her fondly as he nods his head at whatever she's saying. Is that how he looked at you? You watch as he opens a door to the building they stood in front of and they walk inside together. You can feel your heart shatter as if someone stabbed it with a sharp knife. You can actually feel it crack into a million pieces and fall to your stomach. Sharp pieces like glass shards, obliterating your insides. Your eyes don't leave the door they went through.  You can't see through the intricate stained glass windows no matter how much you tried.

“I'm sure it's not what it seems,” Jisoo tells you. 

“Bull fucking shit,” Lisa exclaims. “I'm going to beat his ass.”

“Lisa,” Jisoo hisses.

“What?” Lisa exclaims. “He left her hanging for over a week, and he's literally right there. She should have been his first stop.” 

“No,” you hiccup. Dammit you're crying. You wipe your eyes on your sweater. The fabric is itchy and makes the wet skin of your cheeks feel irritated. Your eyes still don't stray from the door. You hope and pray with everything you have that he walks back out. Please walk back out, you beg. You hold your breath…please?  He doesn't.  “I'm just going to go.” 

“Let us come with you,” Jisoo suggests. You just shake your head. She sighs and opens her arms for you.“I'll keep her in line,” she whispered as she pulled you into a hug.

       

You ran to your car, slamming the door as you got in. You had let the tears flow freely then. You try to hide your face from the people that pass by as you rest your head on the steering wheel. How dare he. After everything he put you through with Kai. Kai didn't even touch you. You were barely a participant in the conversion. You shouldn't have gone home with him that night. You should have kept it as a one-time thing. Let it be a lapse in judgment, a meaningless fling. You could have blamed the drinking. No one would have to know you were stone cold sober. Yoongi made your expectations high. He made you feel warm and see colors for the first time in a long time outside of your friends.  He broke you. 

When you got home, you threw on an oversized shirt and got into bed. Cocooning yourself in your plush blankets, you try to seek comfort and warmth. It wasn't helping.  It was only 5 pm, and you had nothing to do and no one to distract you. Time on your hands leads to overthinking. Overthinking can lead you to bad decisions.  You don't want to think right now.You looked at the messages you had sent him. Delivered. He never opened them. You sent them days ago, but he still hasn't opened them. You were so stupid. He fooled you. Were you a pawn in a game for him to get back at your sister?  Your phone chimed, and your heart stopped. Please, please , you whisper into the still, quiet room. It's not him. It's Lisa. 

“Did you make it home? I didn't do anything, I swear. I won't tell Jimin . Promise.”

“I made it, thank you.” 

Your chest hurts. A heavy weight just sitting there where your heart used to be. It's suffocating, holding you down. It's wanting to drown you, and you can't make it back to the surface. You place your hands where the weight is. Thump, thump thump, it's still beating….your heart. It's still there, and it's pumping. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes. You concentrate on the rhythmic beating. Maybe your sister was right. Maybe Yoongi was a loser. He promised you…promised! He said he would take care of everything, and now he just broke it all apart. He ripped it all up into tiny red shreds and dropped them off the highest cliff he could find. He was probably laughing as he did it. Your tears start leaking out of your eyes again. Focus, focus on the rhythm. You close your eyes. Thump, thump, thump.  Your phone chimes again. 

Jimin said that the guys got in last night. I swear I brought it up casually. I didn't mention what we saw. Lisa tells you, and you choke on sob. This makes you feel worse. That means he had all day that he could have talked to you.  

Thanks. Let Jisoo know I'm turning my phone off for a while.

I will. I love you, sweets.

Me, too, you reply and power down your phone. 

He didn't want to see you. He has made that clear. All you needed was one call, one message. You just needed him to tell you that he had arrived. If he needed time alone, that was fine. He should have just told you. He's such a hypocrite. Telling you how you needed to talk to him and he's straight up ignores you too.  The thing is, you never lied. Yes, you may run and shut down, but you never lied. Screw this, you think, and you turn your phone back on after a few minutes. You immediately open your messages. 

“I know your home. I hope you're having fun with her.” 

You let out a loud breath. You delete the message and get out of bed. Padding to the living room, you try to lie down there.  The weight is still in your chest. It's so quiet, and the thoughts are so loud in your head. You want him here eating your favorite chicken, and you'll make sure there's extra rolls. You'll even let him pick a movie to watch even if you don't like it.  You stare up at your clock. The second hand seems to be moving extra slow today. It hardly makes any noise, though. A small, quiet ticking noise reminiscent of his metronome.  You don't want to hear it. Your memories make the agony hurt more. 

“Did you stay the night with her?” You stare at it for a minute. “Did she go on your trip with you?”  Delete. “Are you sleeping with her? That's fine, I'm with Kai right now.”  You press delete. “I miss you.” Delete. 

You should eat. Your stomach growls, angry with hunger. Your kitchen seems so far away, and you know there’s not much in there. You don't want to eat anyway. Getting up from the couch, you make your way back to your bedroom. Turning on your TV, you leave it on the first thing that comes on. You don't know what it is, but it makes the deafening silence better. You close your eyes, and you're still drowning. Waves of sadness and hurt lapping against your soul.  Your body starts to relax. You give in and let the waves take you away. 

Your eyes pop open. Immediately, they land on your alarm clock. The red glare is blurry, and you can't quite make out the numbers. Blinking away your sleep, you see it reads 8:30 pm. You had been out for about three hours. Your head swivels to your hallway when you hear a sound. There's a knocking at your door. Who the hell would come to your place this late? Picking your phone up, you see 6 missed texts and 4 calls from Yoongi. You refuse to open them. Absolutely not. You will not give him the satisfaction. Your phone chimes. You look down at your lock screen. Are you....was the only thing you could read from the push notification. Am I what? You ask yourself. Angry? Yes. Sad? Yes. Scared? Yes. The knocking seems to have stopped. You know it was him, but yet you didn't win anything for making him reach out to you first. Your phone chimes. I'm sorry. You laugh to yourself….sure. 

The next morning was quiet, and you were tired.  Lisa didn't come to work today. She had texted that Jimin had surprised her with a day trip. A couples spa thing. You were happy that she finally found someone who liked the same things she did and actually took care of her.  She called in with the flu, and after that, you decided to turn your phone off. You look at Seungkwan, and he looks happy that he gets to work in peace for once. Everynow and then you can hear him sing to himself. It makes you smile. He has a nice voice.  You actually managed to get a lot of work done, and Seungkwan seemed more than happy to help you when you needed it. You were wrong about him. He always seemed intimidating, but he's sweet. Admittedly,  you knew that Lisa being gone helped. She didn't distract you with office gossip or the retelling of her dates. You didn't have to talk about Yoongi. You feel bad, but you almost want to say you like it this way.  

5 o'clock on the dot you clock out. You wrap your sweater around you tight and throw your bag over your shoulder. It's colder and the daylight shorter. You can almost smell winter coming in the air. The crisp, clean smell of cold air and snow isn't too far now.  It will probably come early. You should probably grab a warmer jacket tomorrow. Stepping out of the building you stop dead in your tracks. Yoongi is standing there, waiting for you. The new orange…ginger hair on display. He's wearing the same green jacket from yesterday, you bet it smells like her.  He smiles when you see him. A true honest,  smile lights up his face. You…you  just stare. A blank stare that held no emotion. His smile drops a little before he quickly recovers and approaches you. 

“I went over to your place last night,” he said. So, it was him. “Were you asleep? You didn't answer my messages. I was getting worried.”  You visibly scoffed at that and your eyes flicker back to his hair.  “Yeah,” he said, reaching up and running his hand through it.  “Joon, he talked me into it. Do you like it?” 

“You ignored my messages,” you said quietly, not answering  his question. He sighs and tries to take your hand, but you pull away and shake your head. You don't want him to touch you, not after her.  Did she make him happy? Did he come over to your place right after leaving hers? “Two weeks?” You question.

“Baby, can we talk about this privately. Let's go to my place,” he suggests, but you shake your head no.   You'll give in there, you know it. “Can we at least sit in my car? Baby, you’re shivering.” You nod in agreement after a moment of hesitation and walk to his car. You rub your hands together as the wind bites at them. Yoongi tries to reach for you to warm them up for you. You don't let him. Instead, you jam them into your thin sweater, although it didn't do any good.  Getting in the car, he turns the heat up and points all the vents to you. “I know I said a week when I left, but the group we had a meeting with. They needed an album quickly. There were lawsuits involved and everything. I didn't even have time to eat or sleep. Namjoon took my phone away at one point. I couldn't make him mad.”

You don't know what to say to that. You feel him stare at you and he's fidgeting in his seat. His hands keep checking the air blowing out of the vents. Making sure it's warm enough for you. He's probably just nervous and needs something to do. 

“Did Namjoon sign them?” you asked. 

“Yeah, he did,” Yoongi confirms and you nod your head silently. “There's a lot of lawyers and paperwork involved but yeah, he did.” 

You look out the windshield. The trees that lined the street have long lost their green leaves. The leaves now have fallen to the ground as they turn into their beautiful fall hues of yellow and orange, crunching when people walk on them through town holding their warm coffees and other pumpkin spiced drinks. You watch as they swirl off the ground as the breeze picks them up, and they dance along the road as they pass by. You sigh. The sun is already starting to set. 

“Baby?” he asks, trying to get you to look at him. “Y/N?”

“I saw you.” you tell him. You surprise yourself with the lack of emotion in your voice.

“Where? What are you talking about?” he inquires. 

“Yesterday,” you answer, as a singular leaf twirls across the window. “We were getting coffee. We saw you with some woman. She was pretty. You looked happy.  Lisa told me you guys landed the day before that.” 

“That was…” he started but you didn't let him finish. 

“No, you waited…what 24 hours after being home to get a hold of me?” you asked. “Seeing those messages not even opened. Then seeing you with her,” you shook your head. You are tired, so very tired. “I get it.” 

“Will you let me explain?” he begs. You want to, you really do, but you're still too hurt. The wound is still raw and gaping.  You're still trying to make it to the surface.  Did he cheat on your sister, too? 

“My bus will be here soon. I need to go,” you tell him and you put your hand on the door handle. He throws himself over you to stop you from opening the door. “Yoongi!” 

“Let me take you home. I won't say anything. I won't try to come in. Baby, please just let me take you home?” you see something in his eyes that you can't decipher.  Is he scared? Is he scared like you were? Good. You nod your head silently. 

You lay awake in your bed. You couldn't sleep and you have been trying for hours. Tossing and turning, you kept getting tangled up in your blankets. Yoongi stuck to his word and just dropped you off. He didn't say anything on the drive home. He just kept stealing glances at you and you…you kept your eyes as straight as possible. It looked like he wanted to say something to you but you bolted from the car before he could put it fully into park. You regret it now. You wish you would have let him explain who she was. It's messing with your mind. All the scenarios you can think of that could have happened are driving you crazy. You look at the clock. 11:30pm. You're going to take a chance. You need to have a clear mind. You pick up your phone and call Yoongi. Thankfully, he picks up.

“Baby, is something wrong? Are you okay?” he asked. His voice is worried. Perfect. 

“Can you come over?” you ask. 

“On my way,” he says and hangs up.

Getting out of bed, your hair is a mess. You try to finger comb it, but you have to give up as the knotting gets worse and throw it up on the top of your head. Little pieces are standing up everywhere…oh well. You think about changing your clothes as you look through your closet  but honestly, you think that would seem desperate. You are, though …desperate. Wanting his answers, hugs, kisses. You wanted him to hold you so you could sleep. Hell, he didn't even need to hold you. He just needed to be next to you. You go to sit down on your couch to wait for him. No sooner did your butt meet the cushion. There was a knock at the door.  Taking a deep breath, you get up and walk to the door. Opening the door, Yoongi smiles at you, an unsure, nervous smile. You move to the side without a word to let him pass through the doorway. It's then you notice that he has two large bags with him.   

“I'm happy you called,” he said softly. You gesture him into the living room, and you sit across from each other. You on the old pea colored couch with frayed threads, him on the oversized chair. He looks so small sitting there alone. You studied him sitting there. Really studied him. Yoongi looked just as tired as you felt.  

“I…I'm ready for you to explain,” you tell him. You rub the palms of your hands on your knees nervously. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for the worse.  

“She's an old friend from college. She dated my friend Jooheon,” he explains. “She’s an art dealer that travels all over the place. I texted her about art supplies. If she knew what the best ones were. She said she did and she could probably get anything I wanted. I was supposed to meet her Saturday but after I showered and changed…I fell asleep so we met on Sunday instead. I tried calling you but you didn’t answer. So, I ended up coming over….I,” he sighed and looked at his hands. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

He wasn't a liar or a cheat. You study his face, and he looks defeated, like his world is about to crumble. You know how that feels. Your hands cover your face as you break out in sobs. You were a fool for believing the worst in him. The couch dips, and Yoongi takes you in his arms. His movement seems cautious.  He pulls you as close as he can get you. It only makes you cry harder. That feeling of drowning, the weight in your chest, it was because of you and not him. It was because you couldn't trust him enough. You feel like an awful person, sister, and partner.

“I'm sorry,” you cry. Yoongi grabs your face and makes you look at him. His hands were warm, and it was a welcoming feeling on your skin. “I'm so sorry, Yoongi.” Tears were streaming down your face.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You had every right to think what you did.” he tells you, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “I should have told you when I was coming home. I’m so sorry for not calling you. I fucking missed you,”  he says then captures your lips in a kiss. He has a sturdy hold on the back of your head. He doesn't want you to pull away and you don't. You're done fighting him. Yoongi pulls away and gives you a real smile. Letting you go, he gets up and grabs the bags he brought. He placess them by your feet and motions to them with his hands,“Go ahead.” 

You open the bag, and you want to cry again. He was telling you the truth. He got you art supplies and not the generic, big box store brands either. Graphite pencils of different grades, pastels, erasers, blending sticks, blow-bulbs, a portfolio, rulers, paper, and even a finishing spray. You can't even begin to think how much he spent on this. You run your hands over the black portfolio you sat on your lap. You never had access to these items before. You were lucky you had lined paper and a number 2 pencil back in the day. It's perfect, more than perfect. 

“Drawing used to make you so happy,” he says quietly. “Just how music makes me happy. I want you to have that back.” 

“Thank you,” you say as you throw yourself into his lap, hugging him. He holds you to him, both of you silent, relieved, tired.  Pulling back, you run a hand through his hair.  “I really like your hair.” Yoongi laughs heartily. 

“Good,” he responds, pulling you down for another kiss.

That night, as you laid in your bedroom, it wasn't filled with deafening silence like the night before. It wasn't filled with the sounds of passionate sex. It was filled with his quiet snores and both your heartbeats. 

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Tagged Readers:

@unicornbabyloverylover

@marimarvelfan

[stylesispunk]

"The not so invisible String" part 4

Not outbreak! Joel Miller x F! Reader

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summary: you and Joel were made right for each other at the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count: 5,5k

warnings: angst, cheating, in summary, it is a terrible day for the reader. "Doe" is her nickanme. No proof reading haha

a/n: Hello! Well, it took me almost two weeks (again) to write something. It was my birthday on Tuesday so my inspo came back for a moment because I felt happy that day. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 Remember my dms and asks are always open for you

dividers by @/saradika.

Time stopped. Tears and tears streamed down your cheeks. Humiliated, broken, and foolish. There was nothing but fury and desire next to a flame that threatened to explode into a fire, burning all the last years you had spent beside a man who just caused pain.

Your hands on the wheel were shaking, and your knuckles were purple after punching a thousand times, cursing Dwight’s name as if it were poison with a bitter taste in your lips.

You were following him. Following the path to the world he had built behind your back to trap him in the act, to defy him, to hit him, and finally to remove the dagger he had punched in your lungs.

You were going to free yourself from a world of dirty lies you and Dwight had created to free yourselves from old flames that didn’t allow you to advance, but you had loved and respected him, even when he left you in the dark.

Like everybody else, you thought.

There was always someone better—someone to run to, someone to love—but it was never you.

You were the one left in ruins, playing hide and seek, alone, and crying.

All the negative thoughts running through your head stopped the minute Dwight parked the car in a pretty nice house, where he had been playing doll house with another woman and another child.

You parked the car a discreet distance away from where Dwight had entered, and your hands were still trembling as you sat there, grappling with the maelstrom of emotions tearing through your heart.

It seemed like this city was cursed.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you contemplated your next move. The desire for confrontation warred with the awareness that once you stepped into the world Dwight had kept hidden from you, there would be no going back. The flames of anger fueled your decision, and with a deep breath, you stepped out of the car, your eyes focused on the battle field ahead.

Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. Each step you took meant facing the piece of the puzzle that had been kept hidden from you. The heavy weight of treason on your shoulders and pain and rage fueled your mind.

Finally, you reached the door that seemed to hold the answers you sought. The muffled sounds from within hinted at a world you had been excluded from. Your hand trembled as you reached for the piece of wood, and with a deep breath, you knocked at the door, waiting for the revelation.

The door creaked open, revealing a woman with a warm smile on her face. She was oblivious to the fury that raged within you. Her innocence seemed to contrast sharply with the treason that broke your ego. The smile faltered slightly as she took in the tear-streaked face and red eyes.

"Hi there, can I help you?" she asked, her tone friendly but tinged with concern.

Your eyes scanned her face with astonishment and disbelief. How could she be so unaware of the man she was with? Your gaze shifted, and that's when you saw the little girl, no more than four years old, happily playing in the living room.

The contrast hit you like a ton of bricks. The image of Dwight playing the role of a loving father to this child felt like a betrayal on a whole new level, taking you to the very exact moment he stopped playing with Tara, the moment he stopped acting like a father to her. You struggled to find words; your voice was caught in the turmoil of emotions.

"I... I need to talk to Dwight," you managed to say, your voice raw and trembling.

The woman's smile faded, replaced by a look of confusion. "Dwight? You must be mistaken. There's no one here by that name."

Your heart skipped a beat. Could you have been wrong? Was this not the place you thought it was? Doubt crept in, but then you heard a familiar voice from within the house, calling the little girl's name.

"Daddy!"

Your breath caught in your throat as Dwight appeared in the doorway, his expression shifting from surprise to shock at the sight of you standing there.

"What are you doing here?" he stammered, his attempt at feigning innocence falling apart.

The reality unfolded before you, and the pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place. The woman beside him, the child, the house—it was all part of a life Dwight had been living behind your back. Your hands clenched into fists as anger and hurt surged through you.

"Who is she, Dwight?" you demanded, your voice a mixture of pain and anger.

He hesitated for a moment; the guilt was written all over his face. The woman beside him looked from you to Dwight, realization dawning on her.

"Daddy, who is she?" the little girl asked, confusion in her innocent eyes.

Dwight stammered, struggling to find words that could undo the mess he had created. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant sounds of the little girl's toys.

“Elisa, please take Emma to her room,” Dwight said for the first time.

The woman, apparently named Elisa, took a step back, her eyes flickering between you and Dwight. She gently guided the little girl, Emma, away, leaving you and Dwight in a charged atmosphere.

The weight of the betrayal settled over the room, and you couldn't hold back the torrent of emotions any longer. Your gaze bore into Dwight's, demanding an explanation that might never suffice.

"What is this, Dwight?" you questioned, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. "How long has this been going on?"

Dwight avoided eye contact; his guilt was evident. "It's complicated," he muttered, a feeble attempt to justify his actions.

"Complicated?" you scoffed, bitterness tainting your words. "So, you accidentally had a daughter with another woman?”

“I can explain,” he said, reaching for you, but you stepped back.

“You made Tara and I move here because you wanted to be with her, didn’t you?” The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, and anger surged through your veins.

“I thought it was the best for us and for you,” he stammered, his excuses sounding feeble and hollow.

“For us? Or for you and your secret family?” Your voice rose, a mix of betrayal and anger coloring your words.

Dwight’s eyes darted from you to the ground, realizing the depth of the mess he had created. The room felt heavy with the weight of shattered trust and broken promises.

When no more words came from his lips, you turned to leave. Dwight's desperate plea echoed in the background. "Please, let me explain."

“I don’t want your damn explanations, Dwight. I want a divorce.”

As the weight of your decision hung in the air, Dwight's face contorted with a mix of desperation and regret. The word "divorce" hit him like a cold, hard truth, a consequence of the choices he had made. The room seemed to close in around him as he grappled with the reality of losing the life he had taken for granted.

He grabbed you by the arm with such force that it almost fell from your shoulder, stopping you from getting into the car.

“Love, please, let's talk about this. We can work things out," Dwight pleaded, his voice a desperate attempt to salvage the unraveling threads of your marriage.

You pulled your arm away, resentment etched on your face. "There's nothing left to talk about, Dwight. You made your choices, and now I'm making mine. There’s no way I’m staying with you after this.”

But for him, this couldn’t be the end; this couldn’t be the end that his so-perfect family on the outside was done.

“This just suits you well, right?” He asked, with a bitter taste on his tongue, “Now you will run to Joel.”

Your jaw clenched at Dwight's accusation. The bitterness in his words stung, but you knew that responding with anger would only prolong the pain and the fury rustling your bones. With a heavy sigh, you looked at him.

"This has nothing to do with Joel," you stated firmly, your voice devoid of the emotions that churned within. "This is about us, about what you did. I won't stay in a marriage built on lies."

“Oh, but it was made of lies!” he exclaimed, now fury corroding him. “Do you think it didn’t hurt me to now you would never love me the way you loved him”

Your patience was wearing thin, and Dwight's attempts to deflect blame onto Joel only fueled your frustration. "Stop trying to shift the blame, Dwight," you retorted, your voice sharp. "This is about your choices, not Joel. Our marriage was broken long before Joel came back into the picture."

You started the car, determined to put distance between yourself and the wreckage of your marriage, from Dwight and his venom, and as you drove away, the weight of the truth settled on your shoulders, and the road ahead seemed both daunting and full of uncertainties.

“Hey, why aren’t you coming back to work?”

2:30 p.m

“Come on, Doe where are you?”

2:35 p.m

“Doe, seriously I’m getting worried.”

2:45 p.m

“If you don’t come back, I’m coming to your house.”

3:00 p.m

Oh Joel, sweet Joel, you thought as his messages popping up on your screen, yet you didn’t answer, not finding the strength to even take your phone a put effort on making up a lie.  You wanted distance, silence and peace.

You were sitting on the couch, looking around your house, and it felt so cold to be on your own, alone, humiliated and sad. Your tears had almost run out, your face felt tainted with the salty taste of your own sadness.

You knew you weren’t innocent. You had been taunted with the could’ve been with Joel, with a flame that tainted your life with a dark blue because there will never going to be something like that, someone like him.

 Back when you found yourself with your back against the wall, kissing the lips of Dwight, your wound was open and you allowed the fire sparks enter to your, blind hoping for the care of a man again, you allow the hollow eyes of Dwight find yours in that desperate need for something.

But after time, those eyes didn’t look at you with love, there was no spark or adoration on them just the used of company, and you killed each other by no loving each other enough.

But now, you felt lifeless and ashamed of what you had chose for yourself. Honesty felt so cruel because was tearing you apart, and it felt particularly cruel because it was a reminder of how you were never enough to anybody.

"Mom, what happened? Why are you crying?" Tara asked when she stepped into the house, coming back from school.

You didn’t even notice the sound of the door being closed, just the touch of your concerned daughter touching your shoulder as a source of comfort.

You tried to compose yourself, wiping away the tears that had escaped. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Just a tough day."

Tara, ever perceptive, wasn't easily convinced. She approached you, her eyes searching yours for an honest answer. "Mom, I know something's wrong. You can talk to me."

The vulnerability in Tara's voice tugged at your heart, and you realized that keeping everything bottled up was affecting not only you but your daughter as well. The cruel truth was going to see the light of the day, but you weren’t going to be the one taking responsibility for Dwight’s actions. Taking a deep breath, you look at Tara, inviting her to sit next to you.

"It's about your father and me," you began, choosing your words carefully. “I’m divorcing your father.”

Tara's eyes widened, a mix of shock and sadness flickering across her face. “What? Why?”

You sighed, grappling with the difficulty of explaining the complexities of adult relationships to your daughter. "Sometimes, adults face challenges, and they make choices that hurt others. Your father and I have reached a point where we need to go our separate ways."

Tara's gaze remained fixed on you, absorbing the weight of your words, and before she could say something, the sound of the door opening made you turn your attention, and there stood Dwight, his face desperate and fearing the worst once he took the image in front of him. The tears on your face and Tara’s expression.

"Why are you telling her?" Dwight burst out, his voice edged with anger. "She's just a kid!"

You shot him a stern look, defending your decision. "She deserves to know the truth, Dwight. It's not fair to keep her in the dark about what's happening in our family."

Tara looked between the two of you, her eyes wide with confusion and concern. "Dad, what's going on?"

Dwight's frustration escalated, and he glared at you. "You're poisoning her mind against me, making me the villain in this."

Tara's expression morphed into sadness and disappointment as she looked at her father. "Dad, just tell me the truth. What's happening?"

Dwight hesitated, realizing that the truth was inevitable. "We're having some problems, Tara. Your mom and I are trying to figure things out."

“Stop lying and act like a fucking man!” You exclaimed, frustrated by this situation. “I’ll go upstairs, and when I came back here, you must have told her the truth.” Your determination changed something in Dwight’s expression.

You went upstairs, leaving Dwight and Tara alone in the living room. The weight of the situation lingered in the air as you ascended the staircase, knowing that the inevitable truth would surface. Tara was going to suffer, and Dwight had to face the consequences of his actions and confront the reality of his choices.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you couldn't help but sob. There was anger and fury rustling your emotions. But amidst it all, there was concern for Tara; you had to be strong for her and act as an adult.

While you took a moment to collect yourself in your room, downstairs, Tara pressed Dwight for answers, her young eyes searching for clarity in the chaos.

"Dad, what's really going on?" Tara asked with urgency in her voice.

Dwight, cornered by the truth, took a deep breath before responding, "Your mom and I have been having problems for a while. We're trying to figure things out, but she is making it complicated."

Tara frowned, sensing the weight of his father’s lies. For her, you were a victim of a bad love story. "Is it because of another woman?"

Dwight hesitated, his eyes avoiding direct contact with Tara's gaze. "It's more complicated than that."

“What could it be more complicated than cheating on my mom?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows. "You're trash, dad. How could you do this to Mom? To us?" she demanded, her eyes filled with a maturity that exceeded her thirteen years old.

"I messed up, Tara," Dwight admitted, his voice carrying the weight of regret. "I made some wrong choices.”

Tara's expression hardened with evident disappointment. "I can't believe you would do this to her.”

"Tara,” he whispered, but she had already left the living room.

The tension seemed to be haunting the entire house; a breathing, tainted air of unfaithful lies suffocated you, passing back and forth inside the room, fitting all the pain inside.

Dwight retreated to the bedroom without closing the door behind him. You took some distance from him, creating an emotional barrier between you and your soon-to-be ex-husband.

You were there by the door, like you were just a kid facing the anger of a mad father.

“I suppose you’re happy with what you caused." Dwight spitted, turning the blame on you: “Tara calls me trash, trash! I’m his father, for fuck’s sake.”

“Perhaps she saw the truth behind your pretty face.” Your voice, so insensitive yet fueled by disappointment, threatened to cause a fire with each word you threw against him. “I can’t believe you’re blaming me for what you did.”

Dwight, torn between guilt and the remnants of his wounded pride, attempted to justify his actions. "It's not that simple, okay? Things have been complicated, and I made mistakes."

“Having a daughter with another woman and having a secret family is not a mistake but a choice,” you shot back, your patience wearing thin.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I never meant for it to get this far. It just happened."

“What would your little girl say if she could hear you calling her a mistake, Dwight?” anger bubbling within you."

His expression shifted from defensiveness to frustration. "I get it, okay? I messed up, but you don't have to make this any more difficult than it already is."

"You've shattered our family, Dwight. Tara deserves better than this." As always, you were putting your daughter before yourself.

“She does, but you don't,” he shot back. “You never loved me. How do you think I felt all this time when I woke up to you looking at pictures from your past, from your lover?” Dwight's frustration escalated, and he paced around the room, his hands running through his hair in a display of exasperation. "You never loved me. You were always stuck in the past. How do you think that made me feel?"

Your jaw clenched, and your eyes narrowed at Dwight's attempt to turn the tables on you. "This is not about me and Joel! I didn’t see you until that day Tara got that problem at school.”

“I don’t care! I got tired of you, and I found a woman who cared about me.”

"What I even was to you, Dwight?" You questioned, and your voice broke at the hurt and the feeling of being a small kid being threatened. The room, still echoing with the remnants of the heated argument, seemed to punish you.

Dwight's face contorted with a combination of emotions, from defensiveness to guilt, and a lingering pride that fueled his attempts to justify his actions. "You were supposed to be my wife, the mother of my child. But all you cared about was your past and that guy, and I was the man you found a way to fill that void inside you."

"Then why are you here?" you asked, the pain and confusion evident in your voice. The room felt like a battleground of dirty, shattered lies and promises.

Dwight hesitated, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing his face. "I thought I could have both. I thought I could keep you and have this other life."

Your incredulous gaze met his, who stood silently, looking at you for some answer, perhaps a beg.

"You can't have it all, Dwight," you asserted, your tone firm. "Life doesn't work that way. Choices have consequences."

Then there was silence, and silence is the most devasting sound when you can’t repair the damage. There was no need for more words, not more fights.

“I’ll stay in this house until I find a place to stay, then you can come and live with your new wife and daughter.”

You made a move to leave the room, to find solace elsewhere, away from the chaos Dwight had unleashed upon your lives.

But Dwight, desperate and unwilling to accept the consequences, blocked your path. "You're not going anywhere. We need to talk about this."

Frustration boiled within you again, and you pushed against Dwight's attempt to keep you in the room. "It’s over, Dwight.”

“You’re my wife,” he said, tightening his grip on your arm with such anger in his eyes. "You can't just walk away. We're married, damn it!"

Your eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and fear. "Marriage is built on trust, Dwight, and you shattered that trust. You made your choices, and now you have to live with the consequences."

The struggle for dominance continued, both emotionally and physically, as Dwight refused to release his hold on you. In that moment, the facade of the once-happy family crumbled, revealing the ugly truth beneath.

You closed your eyes in instinct, waiting for the hard touch of his hand on your face, but all you felt was the loosening of Dwight’s strong grip on your arm, and when you opened your eyes again, there was Joel between you and the man who had caused so much pain. There was an unspoken anger in Joel’s eyes; he would not stand by and let anyone harm you.

"If you ever think of it, put a finger on her, and I will smack your face," Joel warned, his voice firm.

Dwight laughed at Joel’s attitude, finding it both amusing and offensive. “Do you really think I was going to hurt her?”

Joel's jaw tightened at Dwight's dismissive laughter. The air in the room crackled with tension, and the weight of the betrayal you had just experienced hung heavy in the atmosphere.

"I've seen enough to know you're capable of causing harm," Joel retorted, his voice laced with restrained anger. The lines were etched on his face.

“Are you going to say something?” Dwight asked towards you, ignoring Joel.

You took a deep breath, your eyes meeting Dwight's with hurt. "It's over, Dwight. There's nothing more to say. We're done."

Dwight's face contorted with a mix of frustration and regret. He seemed to be torn between attempting to salvage what was left and accepting the consequences of his actions.

Joel, still standing protectively in front of you, spoke up with a calm yet firm tone. "She's made her decision. Leave.”

Dwight, feeling the weight of defeat, left the room with a resentful glance, muttering under his breath. "Enjoy it while you can. The only reason I’m behaving is because Tara is the house.”

Joel's jaw clenched, and a flicker of anger danced in his eyes, but he held his composure. He didn't want to escalate the situation further. Instead, he focused on you.

Once Dwight left the bedroom, your only thought was Tara. “Where is Tara?” You asked mostly to yourself than Joel.

"Relax; she is in my truck. She is fine,” he assured, gently stroking his thumbs on your shoulders.

Joel's reassuring words offered a momentary comfort. The weight of the newfound truth was heavily on your shoulders, and your concern for Tara fueled your urgency.

"Why are you here?" you asked, this time finding Joel's gaze.

He sighed, the weight of the situation evident in his eyes. "I came here because you didn't answer my messages or calls. I was worried about you, Doe. Something felt off."

Gratitude and regret were displayed on your face as the events of the day settled in. "I didn't want to involve you in this mess."

Joel shook his head, his expression softening. "Doe, what happened?”

But instead of words, a sob escaped from your lips. Finding solace in Joel’s presence made your feelings overwhelm you. Joel pulled you into a comforting embrace, allowing the tears to flow freely.

“Dwight was cheating on me, Joel. He had another family,” you mumbled on his shoulder. The crumbling of your marriage and the betrayal you experienced all poured out in that moment.

"I'm here for you, Doe," Joel whispered, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of chaos. "You don't have to face this alone."

As the sobs subsided, you pulled away, wiping away the tears, and your gazes connected.

Joel's gaze held a mixture of concern and empathy. He brushed a strand of hair away from your face; his touch was gentle and reassuring. "I'm so sorry you're going through this, Doe. You don't deserve any of it."

The vulnerability in that moment deepened the connection between you and Joel. Despite the years that had passed, the emotional intimacy you once shared resurfaced. His thumb traced a soft pattern on your cheek.

“I don’t want to sleep here,” you roared, hugging Joel tightly.

“You won't,” he said, kissing your temple. “You and Tara can stay with me tonight.”

Joel held you in his arms, offering the missing warmth from your life, feeling like a roof in the middle of a storm. The weight of the pain and betrayal you had just experienced slowly eased as he whispered reassurances. "You won't have to go through this alone, Doe. I'm here for you, whatever you need."

It was almost summer; holidays were coming, and you felt brave enough to make confessions of love. There was a guy from school, and you were convinced that he reciprocated your feelings. The anticipation of young love and the butterflies in your stomach didn’t lie. As you mustered the courage to confess your feelings, reality unfolded in a way you hadn't expected.

That guy made fun of you in front of everyone, leaving you with shame.

In the quiet corner of the park, where Joel and you often hang out, you poured your heart out to Joel. The guy you liked had not only rejected your feelings but did so in a cruel manner, making a public spectacle of them.

By this time, both of you were sixteen, and Joel felt the weight of your pain. Although he had been secretly developing feelings for you, his priority was to shield you from unnecessary hurt. In that moment of heartbreak, he became your protector.

With a protective arm around your shoulders, Joel offered a comforting presence, his own heart silently breaking at the sight of your tears. He didn't utter words of love, not wanting to complicate an already painful situation, but his actions spoke louder. Joel stood between you and the judgmental eyes of your peers, ensuring that you wouldn't face the humiliation alone.

"You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are, Doe. That guy doesn't know what he's missing."

It’s me who can see through you.

The evening settled into a quiet calmness as the memories of the tumultuous day began to fade. The soft glow of dim lights in Joel's house created a comforting atmosphere, providing solace in the midst of the storm.

Joel, always caring for your emotions, approached you gently. "Sarah and Tara fell asleep," he informed, his voice a soothing murmur. "Do you want to share a glass of wine? It might help ease the weight of the day."

You nodded, appreciating the offer of a small respite. Following Joel to the cozy living room, you found solace in the warm ambiance of a place that felt like home. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating a sense of intimacy that contrasted with the chaos you brought with you.

As Joel poured the wine, you couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn your life had taken. The comfort of friendship, which had evolved into something deeper again, provided a steady anchor in the storm. Joel handed you a glass, his eyes reflecting concern for you.

"To resilience," he proposed, raising his glass in a silent toast.

You reciprocated, clinking the glasses with a small smile on your face. The velvety red wine offered a taste of familiarity, a reminder that amidst the chaos, there were still constants in your life.

"It's funny how life works, isn't it? That we found each other again." You began, breaking the silence.

Joel nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I never stopped caring about you, Doe. Even when we were apart, there was always this connection that transcended time and distance. I guess our bond is meant to be."

As you shared the stories of your personal lives without each other for the last few years, the unspoken truth lingered in the air—the bond between you and Joel was more than the forceful friendship you were trying to recover; there was something else still taunting the beating of your hearts when you were together. It was a connection that had weathered the storms of life—an invisible thread woven your paths together.

"You were there for me, and I didn’t fight for you that night,” Joel admitted, his voice carrying the weight of his regret. "And, truth be told, I never really got over you."

The weight of Joel's confession hung in the air. He had already told you that he still loved you, but this time, his admission felt personal, opening a door to a realm of emotions that had long been kept at bay.

You looked into Joel's eyes, a mixture of surprise and realization flickering in your gaze. The atmosphere seemed to shift, the quiet acknowledgment of a shared history merging with the present.

Perhaps a second chance.

There you were, after years of the night you left the house, you both shared the confession of love you waited to hear the most—the regret and the sadness. In the soft glow of candlelight, Joel's expression mirrored the vulnerability you felt. The unspoken emotions hung between you, bridging the gap of time and space that had kept your hearts apart. The weight of his words lingered, unraveling the layers of history and emotions that had shaped your lives.

"I always wondered what could have been," Joel admitted, his gaze unwavering.

As the weight of unspoken confessions hung in the air, you felt a surge of emotions pushing you to bridge the gap that had separated you and Joel for so long. The vulnerability of the moment, the shared history, and the admission of lingering feelings created a magnetic pull you couldn’t ignore.

With no rings and no faithful promises to keep with another man, you felt free.

Leaning in, you found yourself drawn to Joel, a longing that transcended the years apart. The soft glow of candlelight flickered in the room, casting a warm ambiance on the faces of two souls entwined and meant to be together again.

As you looked at him, you got lost in the dark starry universe his gaze held, the stars and constellations written the words he didn’t say to you in the past, and without a warning, you leaned in, but for your surprise and also shame, Joel pulled back, eyes wide, mouth open.

Oh.

“Oh god,” you said, holding your tears and face behind your sacred palms, hiding from the cruel joke you felt toward the world today.

"I can't, Doe," Joel whispered, his voice carrying a sense of restraint. His gaze, though filled with a depth of emotion, conveyed a silent plea for understanding.

Confusion and a tinge of hurt flickered in your eyes as you retreated, the space between you now feeling deeper than ever before.

"I understand," you murmured, a faint smile attempting to mask the disappointment that lingered beneath the surface.

Joel watched you, his heart heavy with a mix of regret and a profound desire to ease the pain that etched your features. But Joel wanted to kiss you and worship every single inch of you, but he wasn’t able to give in under your state, yet he was so vulnerable, and a deep ache settled in his chest. He wanted to be the solace you needed, but the weight of the moment and the chaos of the day made him hesitate.

He didn’t want to take advantage of you.

"I want to be there for you, Doe," Joel said softly, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. "But not like this. You deserve more than a rushed moment in the midst of all this chaos."

His words carried a sincerity that echoed in the quiet room. Joel had waited years to express his feelings, and now, with the universe conspiring against both of you, the timing felt painfully wrong.

You lowered your hands, meeting Joel's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that surrounded you. The connection you shared held a delicate balance.

“I’ll go to sleep,” you said, feeling the exhaustion that permeated every fiber of your being. The weight of the day, the end of your marriage, and the nice words of Joel.

“Goodnight, Doe," Joel said, his voice a soothing presence.

You nodded and said, "Goodnight, Joel.”

++++

Upstairs, unbeknownst to you and Joel, Sara and Tara huddled together, peeking from upstairs, watching the scene unfold in the living room. The girls exchanged concerned glances, sensing the gravity of the situation.

"Dad is such an idiot," Sarah whispered to Tara, her young eyes wide with frustration.

Tara nodded in agreement, her own eyes reflecting on the events of today.

Sarah leaned in closer, her mind buzzing with an idea. "We should do something to help your mom and my dad be together again.”

Tara's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Like what?"

A mischievous grin formed on Sara's face. "We'll be matchmakers! We'll get them together. They obviously still love each other, and it's about time someone did something."

Tara hesitated, glancing back at the living room, where you had just retreated. "But won't your dad be mad?"

Sara shook her head. "Of course not; he would have his girl back."

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99

@lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick

@sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx @luvwanda @sarahhxx03

[jjeongddol]

Can't you see me? I'm right here, Angel.

Now playing - Die With A Smile

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Jeonghan x Reader

- "I'll always find my way back to you, my love."

This chapter comes before part 2! It took me a long time to be content with this part and now I finally have the courage to. Please let me know your thoughts on this small series so that I can better my future writings 🫶🏼

part I | jeonghan's pov | part II

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Once he settled into his sleep shorts and an oversized shirt — dragging his aching body towards the bed that you were occupying. She was nestled in the fluffy sheets that temporarily kept her body warm every night when I'm not there yet.

Is she not asleep?

I could see how heavy each of her breaths were. How her small figure rapidly widens before stilling and letting out the quietest sigh. Then it clicked.

She's crying.

Feeling panic rushed over me— I tried my best to steady myself and not jolt her from the trance of her comfort bubble. Gently lifting up the comforter as I sank into the mattress.

I see her body still completely. Trying her best to hold in her sobs. The sight made me feel like my heart was stabbed repeatedly.

She's like this because of me.

I quietly settled on my side of the bed— the mattress was cold when it hit my skin. No sense of warmth and comfort. What's happening to us, angel?

Placing a hand under my cheek as I rested my head atop it. Patiently waiting for her to turn towards me— not wanting to intrude her space.

I glided my palms along her back, gently rubbing her skin to ease her overbearing emotions a little.

As I continued my admission, I found myself zoning out to the space between our bodies.

—

I remembered that one particular night. The rainfall became more intense as the night passes through, both our bodies snuggling closer to seek for warmth and solace through this chilly night.

My arms wrapped around her figure. Her head leaning back on my chest as her small palms softly held onto my arm that she was resting her head on, bringing it closer to her face.

Not long after, her body turned, facing my direction. In the midst of the dark bedroom— there's a clear look of longing evident in her pleading eyes.

Gosh, i'm so sorry baby...

—

Each night, we're both lying close to one another, legs tangled and arms wrapped around our sorrowful bodies. The moonlight creeping throught the bedroom windows kept us up in a quiet accompany. No one spoke a word, just merely cherishing the moments while it lasted. Nothing helped that we were both drowned out by our own doubts.

—

"Han," a long eerie silence followed before she spoke again. Her hand tracing along my chest as she zoned out into the space infront of her, "Is there someone else?"

How did those words slip out of her mouth so easily?

My fingers that were running aimlessly on her back stilled, so did the rest of my body. All i could do was stare at her face under my furrowed brows.

Being this close to her allowed me to study her features— her little button-like nose that looks pointy with a pretty slope— if you looked at her from the side. Her long lashes that naturally curled often hid the beauty of her eyes from a viewer, her bottom lip always guts out whenever she's concentrating too much or when she's upset.

Now, looking into her eyes, it was obvious how she felt. The eyes never lies they said. All I saw was uncertainty and hope— hopes that her doubts are not true.

Without thinking, I brought my face closer to hers, leaving a lasting kiss on her forehead. The tiredness I felt earlier had left my body. I just wanted to secure her between my arms, lock her body to mine as I ensure she knows i'm still very much in love.

How can I prove my love to you, baby?

—

"Please come back," she pleaded. i didn't not like a single bit of her begs. "It hurts, it really hurts. just come back soon, okay?"

A loud painful sob bounced of the four walls. Her shaking frame curled up even more. It seemed that if she could, she would have wanted to bury herself within the mattress and hide her vulnerable self from me.

My hands reached out to her, cradling her fragile face, in hopes to warm up her dampened cheeks with my body heat, slowly and gently wiped off her tears that were showing no signs of stopping any time soon.

Planting butterfly kisses all over her face— knowing that it's a way that could comfort her, mumbling incoherent words and I love yous that I have longed to say for weeks. I poured my heart out as she continued mourning and grieving— as if I was really gone.

I was right infront of her but I had been out of reach.

Without realising, my own tears were shed. I had no power over my overwhelming emotions.

I pushed her shoulders back, so that she would be facing me, as I hovered over her. One arm supporting my weight as the other was pushing away the strands of hair that was stuck to her solemn face. Gently caressing her distressed features. Tears still springing out and her sobs becoming uncontrollable.

I hushed her as I continued the gentle kisses. "I'm right here, baby. No matter how far it seems I am, I'll always come back to you, angel," a kiss on her eyelids that were too heavy to be opened.

"I'll find my way back into your arms, baby," another on her glowing cheekbones.

"Just you," and another on her forehead.

"It'll always be you, my love." one more on her quivering lips.

[rushtoprove]

our little secret

part two: revenge

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader chapter: 2 rating: teen and up word count: 5k+ summary: aemond promised to take you as his wife when the time was right and you had no reason to doubt him. but when news of his engagement to cassandra baratheon is announced, and your name is left ruined by his nightly visits to your chamber, you have no choice but to flee from the shame you have brought upon your family and to run from the man you love. but not all is as it seems chapter summary: three years pass you by and you remain exiled from everyone you once held dear. when news reaches dorne that aemond is to visit the city, you must quickly find a way to seek the revenge you think you deserve. warnings: sexual references and nsfw scenes. period typical misogyny and course language. chapters: 1 / 2 notes: there has got to be an easier way to do taglists oh my lord. there has been such an insane reaction to this fic and i'm on cloud nine. i also got lots of requests on how this was going to play out and i'm very sorry if it's not how you imagined but hopefully you can still enjoy. I will definitely be posting another chapter after this but i THINK that will be it :P

It had been a long three years for you. Overwhelmed by heartbreak and despair, and barely breathing from bitterness and rage, this time had passed in a tidal wave of emotion. You had spent many nights weeping for Aemond Targaryen while crying out for you family and your home. You missed the gentleness of his touch, and the grip he held on to you in your long nights of passion. You craved how low his voice was when he whispered his poetic words, and the laugh he swore he only shared with you. Desperate for the feeling of your mother’s embrace and missing the way your brother would walk you around the grounds every morning, you thought you might die from your depression. You missed it all.

You sent letter upon letter to your family, imploring them to allow you home, and to see reason. You begged them to accept your deepest apologies, but not one was returned. You found yourself alone and abandoned in Dorne, a city you grew up to believe it was nothing more than debauchery and sin wherever you turned. For the first four months of your banishment, you refused to leave your room. You hardly ate the food that was delivered by your handmaiden, and your curtains were never pulled back. The days passed you by, but you did not know, for you were curled up beneath your blankets, praying to wake up from this nightmare. You were lucky, your banishment ended with you being a guest in Sunspear, the castle that home the noble House Martell. You could have been banished to the streets of silk or left to rot in the gutters of the Stormlands, but instead you were homed with the ruling lords of Dorne.

After a year of wondering around in a cloud of misery and despair, something inside you broke. Quickly you found yourself cursing the cruel prince for the way he had led you to believe his lies. How could you have been so foolish to believe a prince would consider taking you as a wife. You allowed him to keep you in a daze, submissive to his needs in a desperate belief that you would have your fairy tale ending. Suddenly you found yourself enraged by the memory of your controlling family who never once seemed to care for your needs. You do not remember a day in your whole life that your father had ever asked how you fair. Nor do you recall your mother ever standing up for you when your father would push you into the sights of old, savage and vulgar men for courting. Your brother was still young enough to be kind when needed but give a few years and he would be sure to follow in his father’s shadow.

Slowly your overwhelming desire to be with those you loved, turned into a desperate need for revenge. It kept you up at night. Your mind conjured up different ways to take the vengeance you so desperately craved but nothing seemed to hit the way you wanted. You knew it was not as serious as to murder, nor was it something you would even be able to stomach. You thought of sending more letter’s, declaring your hatred and resentment for all those who wronged you, but it was not enough. You didn’t know what you would do, but you were sure it would be something magnificent.

It was Prince Maron Martell, that came to you with a solution.

It was he, who ventured to your rooms every day, willing you to leave your darkened chambers, and it was he who succeeded in bringing you out into his father’s court. The way he spoke so freely, and acted so carelessly, brought you nothing but jealousy. You despised that it be so easy for a man to act immoral, to drink and fuck and sleep, and there be no consequence. No banishment. You were shamed for enjoying even the simplest of pleasures.

After one-to-many wine’s you allowed yourself to confess this.

“You are in Dorne little lady. We do not care for that judgement here. Pleasure and satisfaction are natural for the human body. Who are we to stop anyone from reaching true euphoria? If I do not care, and that woman under the arch over there does not care, nor does that boy behind the fountain care, why do you care so much?” You didn’t understand at first. The idea that pleasure was not to be hidden. You had spent so long hiding behind the closed doors of Aemond’s chamber, both trying to hide the sounds that your bodies desperately wished to make. You could not be seen making any advances in the eye of the court, nor could you allow the risk of anyone catching glimpses of small touches even in the darkest of corners. You had spent so long on edge, ashamed and frightened of what would happen if you were ever caught in the prince’s arms. It was immoral for a woman to partake in such activities for her own enjoyment, worst yet an unmarried one.

“I do not get the same freedom you do Maron. Women in this world are born to be caged. I am caged by my father. I shall be caged by my brother. My husband will likely close me up in the smallest cage of all. I shall never know freedom and I was a reckless whore for allowing myself to succumb to such depravity. Look where it got me.” You huffed at his care-free attitude as you swung a deeper gulp from your wine. You were already flushed from the scorching heat of the Dornish sun but sitting beneath it for a picnic with jugs upon jugs of wine was a terrible idea and you thought your face would melt then and there.

“Such harsh words from my favourite little lady. You are much too hard on yourself. Also I have sent many Dornish dresses to your room girl. You need to wear them. Your Westeros dresses are much too thick, I fear you shall pass out any second.”

“I cannot. It would be improper.” You let out a nervous laugh as you thought of the sheer dresses hanging in your cupboard. The way it felt as if you hardly wore anything. The materiel was too light, and you felt more exposed than you ever felt. Even if it did allow the wind to cool your temperature and the air allowed your skin to breathe, you could not think of the scandal it would create if your father found out.

Then one day, you did not care.

You found yourself gliding through the palace in the dresses with such ease you could not understand the trepidation you had to start with. Soon you became a frequent guest at the scandalous parties Prince Maron would hold every full moon and you finally allowed yourself to succumb to the pleasure and freedom that Dorne offered. You concerned yourself less and less for your appearance, your family name and instead you found yourself liberated. You had never felt so light and blissful. Without the watchful eyes of the courtiers and family members, and without the overwhelming need to please Aemond Targaryen, you were released from your misery.

Your awakening had been almost two years of uninterrupted freedom. But one day, it was ruined.

“Your past lover and his prudish family are coming to visit.” The words fell from Prince Maron’s lips so casually you could have almost missed it. But the strawberry you were about to draw to yours was quickly tossed down in shock.

“Pray tell… what do you mean?” Your heart raced as you felt your body still. As if a single move could destroy everything that you had built up. Memory upon memory of your once true love flashed through your mind making your heart ache punishingly hard. For a second you thought you might be experiencing a heart attack.

"The Targaryen's.” His hand quickly shot out and he brought your abandoned fruit to his lips with a smirk. He loved to frustrate you during your friendship, and it irritated you to no ends. With a deep breath and some calming words in your mind, you felt yourself recline in your seat and stare. You would not allow your past to disrupt everything you had built for yourself.

“Why do they come? Kings Landing hates Dorne. The Targaryen’s hate Dorne. Dorne hates Kings Landing. The Martell’s hate Kings Landing.” Maron hissed out in agreement before laughing at your declaration.

“Ah yes, I do hate those fucking Targaryen’s and Kings Landing, and you want to know something? I hate Aemond Targaryen most of all. Have I ever told you that?” You frowned at his confession. He had not mentioned this even after you had spent months weeping in his arms over everything Aemond had put you through. Although it still morning, you found yourself reaching for the wine to continue this conversation.

“I did not know you were acquainted.”

“Not long before you arrived here, our family welcomed Prince Aemond for a week. He was on some diplomatic mission or some fuckery. He was a miserable cunt, and everyone believed him to be arrogant and rude, but my sister Nymeria…” Taking in a deep breath, Marion flattened his hands and looked sadly down to his plate with the familiar distance in his eyes that always flooded him when he mentioned Nymeria. “Nymeria became besotted. In only a week she declared he was the love of her life. Begged us to let her wed him.” It was as if Marion had reached his fingers inside her chest, just to clutch your heart and squeeze it with a formidable force.

“Aemond seems to have that affect.” You looked away, desperately trying to fight the jealousy that coursed through your veins. It should be no surprise that Aemond was courting yet another woman during your time with him. You tried hard not to think about how many more there could have been.

“Yes. My little sister, my sweet little sister, was absolutely infatuated. So much so that she declared it for him. I remember how nervous she was, how hard she paced as she planned what she would say. They walked around the gardens for hours, and everyone thought it must have worked and that Nymeria would come back Princess of Westeros. But the miserable cunt turned her down. Flew away on his dragon and left her heart broken. Just like you, I spent my days bundling her up in my arms trying to soothe her cries. Aemond had told her he could not marry her for he was promised to another and not two months later, the news of his engagement to Cassandra Baratheon was announced.” You flinched at the name while pursing your lips to try and hide the way you were willing yourself not to cry. The thought of Aemond with his wife was already something you battled before sleep every night, you did not need the image during the day.

“Did he…” You don’t know why you asked because you were sure the answer would bring you nothing but more pain, and gods, you were over pain.

“Did he have her? She said no. You know those men like to keep their wife until marriage. I shall never know the truth.” He had not waited to have you. He did not plan to wed you.

“Perhaps he has a need, a pride, to break young girls' hearts. Perhaps it darkens his already black heart.” You twirled your finger upon the rim of the goblet you drank from while Prince Marion pondered upon your words.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps he is so careless he simply does not think of what is at stake to those around him. Only a few days after the news of his betrothal Nymeria was taken by a fever. I do not blame him for her sickness. But I will not have him parading around with his family proudly within our walls while my sister spent her dying moments wasting her tears on him. I wish to seek revenge for my sister… and I know you want your own form of retribution from the young prince.” Meeting his eye, you noticed the gleam of excitement. You could not lie; you were interested in what he had in mind.

“Hmmm.” You leaned on your elbow upon the table and allowed your chin to rest upon your palm as your amusement overtook your heartache.

“Wed me.” You could not contain the laugh the passed through your smirking lips.

“Wed you?”

“Yes. Wed me.”

“It may have escaped you, but I'm not your usual type.” He cackled at your words, knowing full well that he was attracted to his squires and court men and could not imagine being intimate with a woman. As dear as you were to him.

“Obviously my little lady. But just while he is here. We announce our engagement and partake in activities with a united front. Your ghosts need not know the truth. Let them think you are to wed me. Your family is within the royal party and shall be attending as well. Let your family think you are to marry into the greatest house in Westeros. And let the fickle little prince think his lover has been taken by a much prettier, stronger prince.” You were both laughing, but you knew the fatal flaw in his grand plan.

“Aemond cares not for me. I was just another body to warm his bed, and he left me discarded without a second thought. He will not care that you have me. Hells, he will likely not remember me at all.” The truth left you disheartened, but Marion only laughed harder.

“Those bastards from your little city are all the same. A man like Aemond will always consider you, his property. He has you once and in his mind no one else can have you again. I will never understand the greed and selfishness of your people. The ownership you all feel over your pleasure. Aemond shall know you, and he shall definitely care when he sees you by my side. Trust me.” You let your mind take over as you pondered on his proposition. If Aemond and your family were to arrive, you would have no choice but to see them during the dinners and banquets and the gloom that lingered over you at the mere thought sent a shiver racing down your spine. But the idea of your family having to bow as you took your position beside Prince Marion, and the thought of Aemond’s shocked gaze as you wrap a loving arm around your betrothed made the dark future a little brighter.

It was not murder. Nor was it letters. But you considered this the perfect revenge for those who wronged you.

+++

You did not go and greet the royal party upon their arrival. The Martell’s simply apologised that Prince Marion’s future wife could not make it. No one spared a second thought. Tonight, however, Marion was holding a masked ball in honour of the honoured guests. You knew now that it was the time to creep out from the shadows you had been banished to. Embarrassingly enough, however, a small part of you still found yourself waiting for a knock at your door as you readied yourself for the grand banquet. You don’t know if you wanted Aemond or your family to be behind it and you would never know, for they never came.

The nerves got the better of you, and you ended up an hour late to the festivities. Sneaking through a side door, you managed to enter without being seen and quickly blended into the hall full of masked figures. Fire twirlers and dancers hanging from silk upon the roof entertained the already drunken crowd, leaving no one to pay attention to your late arrival. The hall was deafeningly loud, with the music and the laughter battling one another. The atmosphere reeked of wine and food and the hall was humid from the fire and the dancing bodies. A banquet in Kings Landing would never be this exciting.

“Hello beautiful.” You felt an arm wrap tightly around you, drawing you in and leaving you facing a drunken fool. His breath was hot, and the smell of mead was bitter to your senses, leaving you nauseated.

“Get the fuck off.” You grunted, shoving him away in anger. The cunt swore under his breath before stumbling away, off to hunt down another victim, you were sure. The moment he moved; however, your vision was cleared, and you could see who sat upon the royal table. Gods, you wished you hadn’t.

“Handsome. Aren’t they?” Someone laughed as you were caught staring up at the silver haired figures. The entire Targaryen family were shoulder to shoulder as they put on a united front against the Dornish gaze. Your glare was stuck on Aemond, who stood proudly as he gazed down at those who he probably considered beneath him. He was still as handsome as ever, with his sharp jawline and glorious Targaryen hair. His posture was still flawless, and his black leather still fit his slender body perfectly. His eye was still covered by his eye patch, and you thought back to the last time you had seen him. The way he had bowed himself to you while you slid it from his face. The lies he told you when he said he only allowed you to gaze upon what was hidden beneath. Everything he ever promised you was now nothing but lies in your mind. You hated how handsome he looked, and you hated the way your heart raced the way it used to all those years ago. You wanted to scream right then and there, but you breath was caught in your throat.

Impossible as you thought it could be, you swore that when he looked into the crowd, he found you. But it was impossible. You had imagined the way his eye had widened, and the small step forward he had taken. He could not have known it you beneath the mask you wore. There were too many people around you for him to even spot your figure in the horde. Yet, for that very moment, your world stopped. The entire hall faded, and everything went quiet as you stood, staring at your lost love. The few seconds in your mind where it was just you and him, was bliss.

You thought back to the first time you met Aemond Targaryen. Your first-time meeting happened to be your first time alone with him. Your family had been invited to live in the Red Keep alongside your father as he made his way up the hierarchy of power. You cared little for his scheming, but the idea of living in a castle was exciting enough. The idea of living in a place with such ancient libraries was even more. You spent your days huddling in different corners, sprawling lazily in the window’s light or simply sitting by the empty fireplace in the corner, devouring every book you could get your hands on.

“It’s beginning to irritate me that you are stealing all the interesting books.” He had been watching you quietly from the balcony above every time you had wondered into his spot. It was his only place he could have peace and quiet, until you came along. For some unknown reason, he did not seem to mind.

“Prince Aemond. Apologies for interrupting.” You had gasped out, reddened in shock at the sight of him. He had slowly descended towards you, like a hunter to its prey. You felt something shift inside you that very moment.

“No matter. I see you hiding around here almost all hours of the day. What is your name?”

And for two months you had spent your days hiding within the library with your prince. It started innocently enough, sharing book suggestions and discussing his philosophy studies. Sometimes you think, you can’t remember what led to you spending your night squirming beneath his devilish touch.

You cursed yourself for reliving the memories of your past and for falling back to your foolish ways so easily. Turning to the idiot who asked the question in the first place, you grunted out your reply.

“I’ve seen better.” Marching away in frustration, you practically ran to the table that held the jugs of wine. One of the servants tried to slowly pour a glass, but you simply snatched the jug and filled your goblet to the very top. Downing it quickly, you poured another. It was beyond frustrating that after everything Aemond Targaryen had done, and after all the healing you had been through, you were still reduced to a love struck fool the moment you saw him again.

No. You would not allow this.

Turning quickly on your heel, your eyes darted between the courtiers and lords, trying to find the perfect one. Even with masks, you recognised familiar faces. Jason Lannister stood happily beside some poor young girl who only barely looked of age. The young Baratheon lord who once sent a poem a day to your rooms once upon a time was standing amongst some Dornish men trying to see who could gulp down a barrel of spiced wine the quickest. The Tyrell first-born who had promised to sail you around the world way back when, lay passed out beneath one of the fire dancers' stages. It was Aemond, and the thought of what could be, that had led you to reject the advances of all these men, but looking around now, it was obvious you had made the right decision.

“My wife… please listen…” You were shoved harshly from the left, leaving you stumbling to gain composure, while a light-footed woman darted past in anger. Your body recovered, but your heart began crumbling as you watched your brother try and chase the woman who was shoving her way through the crowd.

“Go back to that flexible dancer you bastard. I can tell you were enjoying watching!” Without a second glance, your brother pushed himself further, and swept you to the side so he could chase after his wife, leaving you trying to fight the ache in your heart. Your brother, whom you had adored from the moment you were born, had been wed without anyone giving you any information. Perhaps he had children, and now you were an aunt? What else had you missed out on?

“Excuse me, my lady?” Finally tearing your eyes from the sight of your brother, you turned to see a Lord bowed before you. His brown curls tumbled down his toned shoulders and sat pretty against his white undershirt that he had taken to only wearing in this heat.

“Yes?” You frowned at him, but taking in his muscular body, and his towering height, you knew you had found the right one. You did not need to do anything for it seemed he had come to act out your desire on his own accord.

“I am Lord Cregan Stark. I was hoping I may steal you away for this dance.” His hand extended out to you, and you happily grasped on to it with a seductive laugh.

“Oh, you may.” You had taken a liking to the toned man already, and you melted as everyone brushed to the side quickly to let through his towering form. But he was too gentle. You could barely feel his touch as he guided you to the starting position of the dance, and when you began moving, he did not pull you any closer than need be.

“A Stark in Dorne? I did not think your house left the snow for anything.” You let your fingernail drag over his bicep as you spun and felt a sense of pride in the way he clenched at the sensation.

“My younger sister Sara wished to visit the court of King Viserys. I am simply her humble guard. We did not realise a visit to Kings Landing would end up being a trip to Dorne.”

“And do you like Dorne?” He pondered on your question for a moment, before sadly shaking his head.

“No. And I don’t like Kings Landing either. It is much too hot for my Winterfell raised body.” You smiled at his bluntness; happy he was truthful in your conversation. But you were given no time to reply. A brawl broke out in the centre of the hall, and you felt yourself swept back in the horde of people moving away from the violence. Screams began ringing out and soon everyone began pushing harshly against one another to escape or join in on the savagery.

“Sara!” Cregan cried out as he craned his neck to look around the hall. You pushed him arm away from your shoulder as he tried to keep you away from the commotion.

“Go and find her! I will be alright.” He looked at you for a split second, before giving you a grateful nod and pushing his way in to the centre of the circle. It seemed the brutality was only gaining more force and you found yourself being shoved around harshly, rattling your brain and leaving you breathless and dizzy.

“Marion!?” You cried out, trying your best to push your way out of the stampede of feet and arms failing around you. Just when you thought you had reached the outer circle of the fight, the crowd surged in your direction, and you felt yourself fly towards the stone floor beneath you. You cried out in fear and threw your hands forward, bracing yourself from an impact that never came.

“There you are sweetheart. Sorry I’m late, I was looking everywhere for you.”

You could have cried. The familiar safety of his arms wrapping around your body almost broke you then and there. The voice that haunted your dreams was so smooth, you forgot everything. When he pulled you tightly into his chest and moved you forwards, carrying you from the danger, you couldn’t help uttering his name from your lips.

“Aemond…” You whispered, your eyes closing in relief as you found yourself able to breathe again. You felt him brush the hair that had been stuck by sweat to your forehead and began caressing the side of your face as you relaxed into his arms. You were still overcome with dizziness from the ordeal.

“My love, this is where you’ve been hiding from me, I see.” You don’t recall if you imagined the crack in his voice or not. You struggled to breath properly leaving Aemond to run his hand along your back in worry, and he pressed a firm kiss to your temple. He did not see the tear the escaped your closed eyes.

“You…” You croaked out, before quickly shaking your head. Pushing against him, Aemond tumbled back with a start and stood staring at you in shock. You kept shaking your head as you stumbled backwards, trying to rid yourself from the warmth that had taken over you by his touch.

“Stop. Come back I… I must look upon you longer. I must convince myself that you are real and that you will not fade before my eye.” He stalked forward to grasp your hands, but you quickly ripped them away and shook harder. You thought it might be pain that flashed across his face, but it was surely not.

“NO! You do not get to look upon me! You do not get to touch me! I will not let you whisper your words any longer!” You tried to steady yourself on a tree, and only just realised Aemond had pulled you into the gardens for safety and fresh air. You heard him move behind you, and without thinking you quickly began walking forward. You don’t know where you were going but you just wanted to be away from him. You remembered the way he would chase you around his bedchamber when you would deny him a kiss unless he caught you. You pictured the memory of him finally wrapping you up and shoving you against the wall while clutching your hair and kissing you with unimaginable passion. The memories were too much to bare and you ran you fingers vigorously through your hair, as if trying to peel them away.

“Stop! No, I won’t let you run away again!” You heard Aemond quickly move to follow you, making your walk turn into a run. Dashing forward without a second thought, you ran straight into the entrance of the maze at the centre of the garden, running faster as you heard Aemond’s heavy foot falls behind you. You weaved around corners and took sharp turns in different directions, hoping to lose the prince who was desperately trying to follow. He was muttering and growling in frustration every time your body slipped away from his reach.

“Leave me Aemond! I do not wish to see you!” You cried out as you stormed around another corner. Aemond called out your name while ignoring your plea and chasing after you even faster.

“Well, that is too bad! You owe me this do you not think!?” His voice was weaved with anger, and you could hear the way he was shoving away the branches and trying to rip his way through to you.

“I owe you nothing!” You were shocked by his nerve, but you thought him just trying to provoke you. Marion was right. Men like Aemond would always think himself an owner over those he takes to bed, but you would not allow him to have that control over you. How dare he think you owe him anything after he played you a fool?

“Just come to me so we can…. please just let me talk to you once more.” You shivered at the desperation in his voice. He was a brilliant actor. Perhaps if he wasn’t born a prince, he would be in plays.

“We have nothing to discuss Prince Aemond. You should find your way back to the ball, it is in your honour.” You found yourself back at the very start of the maze, so you bundled up your skirts and took off in the direction of the feast. You heard Aemond cry out your name in protest, begging for you to return to him, but you paid no mind. You did not imagine you would hear your name on his lips once more. Tumbling into the open doors, you were quickly swept up in Marion’s arms.

“Where the fuck did you end up?” He laughed in relief, bundling you up and pressing a firm kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t ask.” You moaned into his neck. You held him tightly, desperate for some relief to the pain you were feeling.

“Aemond!” You heard the cry of Queen Alicent, and could only assume that the prince had followed you in. The hall was emptied of its guests and all that was left was a small handful of noblemen who seemed to have been waiting for the safe arrival of Aemond after such vicious fighting.

You thought you would feel a small satisfaction that he would be greeted with the sight of you wrapped up in Marion’s arms, but instead you felt cold and empty. Once more Aemond whispered your name, but you did not turn and instead focused your attention on Marion. With a small squeeze on your elbow, Marion placed a kiss upon your forehead and wrapped a loving arm around your waist.

“Ah Prince Aemond! A thousand thank-you’s for returning my betrothed to me so safe and sound. I was overwhelmed with worry.” Aemond’s intake of breath was sharp and loud as Marion declared you his future wife. You hid yourself behind so that no one saw the tears well in your eyes.

“My son… come.” Alicent ordered sadly, almost pitifully.

“Is this true?” Aemond snapped.

“Yes! I have found myself quite fond of my little lady.” In fact, I…” Marion was cut off by Aemond raising his voice.

“Will you not at least have the decency to fucking face me?” He seethed out. You could stand it no longer. Stumbling forward once more, you walked briskly towards the exit. Your brother and father stood to the side, jaws slack as they took you in, but you cared not. All you wanted was to be alone inside your bedchamber to wallow in your despair. You just wanted to be alone.

You did not see the way Aemond stared at your shrinking figure in despair.

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i don't know why some names don't link sorry

[thefallennightmare]

Faded Memories- Chapter One Teaser

a/n: so with this series, it will be very small. I think 6 chapters. Updates for it will be sporadic, so if you haven't already filled out my tag list document, feel free to post here or the master list post for this series if you want to be tagged!

I plan on hopefully getting the first chapter posted sometime this week(and then I will jump back into JP!)

Heads up, Matty will be a dick in this series. We love mean!matty. But its kind of justified once you find out why.

LITTLE LONGER THAN NORMAL TEASER BELOW THE CUT!

"Elvi," Matt grunted, his warm breath fanning over the back of my neck.

I pushed my ass farther back against him, desperately needing him to go faster; deeper.

"Matt," I whined. "Please. I need more of you."

A tender kiss to the middle of my spine was all I felt before his pace became erratic, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the small hotel room. The room had filled with the musty scent of our shared arousal and with the sounds of the lies of our true feelings. Both of us knew this wasn't meant to happen, the outcome of this being catastrophic for our friendship but we couldn't deny the chemistry between us; the way our bodies practically craved one another.

Rough, calloused hands smacked my ass, causing me to bellow out in pleasure. Matt's other hand snaked around my neck, hoisting my jaw up towards the ceiling.

"You're so fucking pretty when you scream for me, Elvi," his teeth grazed over the shell of my ear. "I'm not letting you go after tonight. You're mine."

Blinking away the memory, I stood in the middle of the large parking lot while letting out a deep breath. That specific memory from four years ago continued to inhabit my mind. I could still feel the way his cock felt inside of me. I could still smell his scent as it lingered deep into my skin for weeks. I could still remember the way my heart dropped to the depths when I heard him on the phone minutes after we came down from our shared high.

But worst of all, I could still remember the way I cried for what could have been as I slipped out of that hotel room, never looking back.

Touring with Bloodline was never supposed to end like it did. I wasn't supposed to lose my best friend from a night of sexual tension that boiled over like a forgotten pot of water on a stove; yet, like the pot, everything between us evaporated into thin air.

Shaking away the distant feeling of regret, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and trekked over to the large tour bus as my future awaited me. I gave small waves to everyone, already meeting them days ago, and as Folio showed me up the steps of the bus, rambling on about how excited he was that I was his drum tech for this world tour, I did my best to match his excitement even though I was nervous as hell.

"There's one bunk left, it's right across from our tour manager and front of house guy. He's great though, you'll love him!" Folio smiled as we came to a stop in the middle of the bus.

"Speak of the devil," he chuckled before motioning towards a man who sat on the long couch of the tour bus, hat hung low over those eyes.

Folio's words fell away against the numbness of my body as I stared at the man sitting in front of me; those fading memories slowly resurfacing. Four years later, and he still looked the same.

The only difference was the sheer heartbreak on what used to be the soft features of his face. Those already dark eyes inked with sheer black when they took in the sight of me, remembrance clear as the Los Angeles sky.

"Matt, this is my new drum tech. The one I was telling you about. Her name is-."

Matt stood tall, interrupting Folio's introduction, and he peered down at me. I swallowed thickly, that all too familiar scent encompassing me, rendering me useless.

"Elvi," Matt sneered before roughly pushing past me to stomp his way toward the back area of the bus.

[sadceline]

THE ENHYPEN HOST || 4

|| Reverse harem || ft. TXT, Mingyu (Seventeen) & BTS

WARNINGS: foul language, explicit content, group sex, humiliation, sex in public, threesome, foursoome, rough sex, red flags, immoral acts, unprotected sex, morbid jealousy, comedy, parody, possessiveness, violent quarrels, arguments, betrayals, lies, femdom sometimes. GENTRE: +18, reverse harem, comedy, enemy to lovers, friends to lovers

PREVIOUS CHAPTER:

FIRST CHAPTER:

When I returned to the room (and it is still strange to me) I found Jay sleeping blissfully. I didn't wake him up, but watching his absorbed expression I had my doubts he would have noticed me anyway if I had tried.

I didn't manage to get to sleep until six o'clock I think, when I heard him get up and make some noise, especially after he left the room, and I heard the others as well. Of course I could never sleep, despite I was so tired, I didn't even think about the fact that they will see me with my face caked with sleep, the repulsive me, from now on.

However, when I no longer hear them, I fall asleep in a second.

I wake up at 12 regenerated, the house is empty and silent. As I get myself settled, I call out to Ester.

"Oh god, oh god, who did you fuck?" She shouts.

I burst out laughing; it's the first thing she says to me. "Jay."

She screams even louder, I have to plug the phone speakers. "Bitch, him?!"

"Yes…. and is gigantic. Mastodontic."

She doesn't stop screaming, I wonder if she is in public or at home, considering she works in a korean advertising office. "Please, you have to invite me."

"Of course, I just have to find the right time. For now I think everyone hates me, those who don't hate me are scared or disgusted."

"Those who despise buy."

"You think so?" I giggle nervously.

"What envy… Jay, you damn bitch."

That's right, I hadn't thought of that. Since she's so crazy about Bangtan and hopelessly, sincerely, madly in love with Jongkook, I didn't calculate that she has bias in Enhypen anyway, and between the two is Jay. She shares a preference with a more obvious Jake, but she likes them both very much.

"What are they like?"

"I I don't know, they seem arrogant, more or less."

"Even Jay?"

"He … he's peculiar, I guess."

"In what way?!" He shouts again.

"I can't describe them to you yet…" I stall, undecided sincerely about what to say.

"Arrogant, huh? I didn't imagine anything different, but… like how did they take it? What did they say to you?"

"They were kind, more or less, except for Sunghoon. Oh, and I think Heeseung. I don't really understand him. Anyway, they could all be facades, I have that impression."

"You have to investigate."

"I must, you're right."

We laugh in unison, but in the meantime I think I should start with the cleaning today. I'll do four rooms, as planned, anyway I haven't even received warnings about what to touch or not to touch, but at least the bed I can do.

"So… exactly what do you do?"

"I guess scullery maid, however, the pay is worth the candle."

We laugh again.

Ester, however, has the 1 p.m. shift and still has to settle in, so we hang up with a promise to catch up soon. She tells me to contact her if anything happens, and it's like a warm breath her thoughtfulness makes me feel much less alone.

I'll start at Jay's, so I can get my things in better order as well, but mostly because I don't know whose other rooms are whose, I'll have to go blind, I wasn't sober enough to observe who was coming back where, yesterday.

Not that it changes anything, since I have to do them all, however having used the first round for acquaintances, three of them will be behind for the first five days, so maybe I should do them all.

It would make sense, I could gain some confidence, although I shouldn't yearn for anything like that.

Whatever, let's get on with it. I tie up my hair, put on a low-cut top, baggy shorts and socks to slide better on the hardwood floor, I have to be comfortable, the summer period has just begun and although it's not really hot, yet, the house is so hot.

Jongseong's room is strange, I can't say it's tidy but his closet is a hell swarming with expensive stuff. There is a kind of chaotic orderliness to it all, except for the closet, which was more harmonious before I made room, though.

I didn't bring a lot of things, so I manage to make good use of the generous space he offered to me. Now, the room looks a lot cooler, I moved the curtains and a lot of light comes in.

Let's go with the next one, let's see, I'll pick at random.

Hmm, it's a…normal room. There doesn't seem to be anything to do, everything is already in order. I don't indulge my curiosity in wanting to find out who it belongs to, partly because I also tried not to go through Jay's things, that would be inconsistent.

It is strange, though, why is it so anonymous? It is said that the environment where one lives reflects the soul, but the soul in question is not just neat, it is just ordinary, just looking around I can see that there is the bare minimum, not a photo, not a memento. Jay has several fan gifts, in the room, and he also has photos of his family, there is nothing here.

I go outside, that's okay, I won't go any further. I don't care, anyway. Seriously. I really mean it.

The room next door I recognize instead, and it's quite nice. Nicely furnished, even tidy all things considered, to the point where I just give it a quick tidy up to finish.

Around me are a few, not too many, but several Lego models. As I get closer to look at them I realize that these are some very rare pieces, not because I understand any of them, I knew someone who liked them very much, he showed them to me, something remained.

His order is pleasant, because is real. His various gadgets are arranged randomly, but there is something extremely elegant about the composition.

When I'm done with the third one which is Jake's room as I suspected but mostly because he has several, many photos of himself (not alone, but the ones in which he looked very good), one more to go, I realize it's already 3 p.m. (I took my time), maybe they won't be back for lunch? I don't even have their numbers yet, I guess, because I'm not sure I'll ever get them anyway.

Whatever, since I'm almost done, why not give myself a break? I'll untie my hair, turn on the TV, listen to some music - not theirs…right? Yes, that would be pathetic, so I'll put on someone I like musically almost as much as I do: TXT.

How cool, I find out they have all the subscriptions they can get, must be great to be rich, huh? Curious that I think that because of the amount of streaming services accessible and not because of the huge penthouse I'm in.

All right, the music is there, I've had the juice, I'll re-bind my hair. I'll also do the cooking, I'm feeling generous, since it's all new and strange I'll try to show myself useful so they won't break my balls!

No, maybe I'm not in the right position? I don't get it, what a mess. Whatever, let's dance and not think about it.

I go into the fourth room, oh, this one is nicer, but it's actually messy. There's a keyboard, I have an idea who the owner might be, should I set it on fire? No, we're not really enemies yet, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

One of my favorite songs, Fawerell Neverland, has started, I can't help but sing it with them. Meanwhile I pick up some empty ramen packs, some clothes left haphazardly on the floor, some cans, until I notice something I should have expected?

There are boxers. If they are at the foot of the bed, it means they are used. Honestly, Jay didn't leave anything like that lying around, what manners are they when you already know I'm probably going to come over and clean up at your place?

So, what do I do? Do I pick them up or do I leave them in protest? And why am I curious? But then curious about what? All right, I leave them where they are and resume singing.

Heeseung, are you my second enemy? At least you should have the decency to declare it.

"NEVERLAND MY LOVE!" I shout at the top of my lungs, noticing soon after that the bedside drawer is slightly open and I can make out a girl's face, in a picture.

"Do you listen to other people's songs? Weren't you an engene?"

I swear, I jump in the air. I completely failed to notice that he was standing in the doorway, at this point who knows how long.

Who is that girl? It shouldn't concern me, much less interest me.

"Can't I listen to anyone else?" I answer, trying to maintain a calm tone of voice, but I literally defecated on myself.

"Of course not."

"Of course you're strange - I sigh - and anyway, don't leave your dirty underwear lying around. At least you take that off."

"I was hoping you'd steal it from me. It would be in theme with your character, wouldn't it?"

"You're disgusting in person." I say that, though, why don't I think it? He almost snatched a laugh from me, lucky I remembered in time that I have dignity.

I continue to make his stupid bed, so I will have finished my ordinary duties anyway. Does that mean everyone is back? Why do I feel like seeing Jay? It's Heeseung's fault, it's like he's the cheerful version of Sunghoon, isn't it?

He's a jerk but he does it in a nice way? Cute? Charming? Laughing like that? Damn.

I see him turn to the other side of his twin bed, looking at me but I just can't hold eye contact. I lower my eyes and see he's clutching the other end of the sheet, helping me make the bed, I guess he wants me to leave his room.

"I'm not disgusting, am I? You don't mean that." He chuckles, adjusting the pillows for me.

"Yes I do, the biggest disappointment."

He looks at me again, why did he become serious for a second? Did I imagine that? "Disappointment? Is that a hint?"

I blush, a lot, feeling my cheeks flaming. "A hint about what? When I talk to you, I feel like I'm talking to a mentally ill."

"How is your korean so good?" Change the subject again, is that a peculiarity or something?

"I had a very good teacher."

"Oh yeah? And was this person born in Korea?"

"No, she is italian like me."

"Interesting."

I'm curious. We talk a lot fast, it's a constant back-and-forth, we sound like two old friends bickering, but something is different, it's clear. Even though I can talk to him, I feel discombobulated like I'm inside a shaker in action.

"Ah, you were here." I feel like I'm being called by someone.

Turning around, in the doorway of Heeseung's room, this time it's Jake. Was he looking for me? "Me?"

"Yes, you have to be with me today, right?"

in the romance untold album i found this card and the one from heeseung…. i'm so glad

Ah, so that's how it works? I laugh.

He's so handsome, my eye retinas burned during that measly second when I dared to lift my eyelids to him - mine, it was a nervous laugh.

"And how would you prefer me to welcome you? In the traditional korean way? Or something more affectionate?" I drawl, dying inside, my eyes wandering lost across the floor.

"Why not both while wearing a maid's dress?"

"Is that a good idea, I order it?" Heeseung asks.

"Think for yourself about how you want to be greeted, that's my idea."

"What if I had exactly the same idea?"

"Simple, you would be the second."

Heeseung utters a dramatic verse, touching his heart and fingers tighten on his…chest…his chest wrapped in the white t-shirt he wears, which is not exactly loose.

I cough, I think they have forgotten my presence. "I'm not a cosplayer. Apply to the agency next time."

Then the ace of the band, so called not only by the fans, and not for trivial reasons but on the contrary for his undeserved enormous talent in practically anything he does, singing, dancing, being stupidly handsome, bursts out laughing.

He's… I just don't know how to describe it. If there's anything I really have a soft spot for it's his laughter, his smile, of any kind, and seeing him up close, taking advantage of the moments when I'm sure he's looking away to watch, offers me an indescribable feeling.

"Good thing she's nice." He says, turning to Jake.

He is confused, I can see it, sense it. He looks at us tenderly, I feel like biting his face off, I quickly look away terrified by my intrusive thoughts, if I look at him, I really want to.

Then he walks over, grabs my wrist and smiles. "Let's go now."

"Where are we going?"

"I have a lot of things to ask you." He explains, pulling me gently.

Him? He is the one who should ask me?

Forgive me Ester, you've always had excellent taste. I can't deny it.

I follow him, asking no questions. As I pass through the hallway I realize that everyone, or almost everyone, has returned, certainly Jay, Jungwon and Niki. The first looks at me, while Jake drags me by the wrist, says nothing, and I get a strange feeling.

It's strange, isn't it? He didn't even say hello to me.

No, maybe I should be the one to do that? And isn't it that I might annoy Jake? He referred to spending time together as something exclusive, so should I pretend that others don't exist? There is something paradoxical about this situation.

"Did you find disorder? I'm sorry." He says, looking around and turning his warm, sensual smile on me. I'm afraid he's playing it off with Heeseung at this point that I see him live.

He's not really embarrassed, but he wants to look embarrassed.

"No, your room is the best so far." I reply under my breath.

"Which ones have you done so far? There's one neater than mine."

"Ah, so I found it! Whose is it?"

"Sunghoon's."

Ah.

Jaeyun, his korean name, sits on the bed, looks at me and smiles like a fool. I don't know, does he want to do it right away? Is that what he wants to ask me? I am uncomfortable, but not with the assumption of such a proposal, so much as because I am not yet used to handling all these hormones.

Jake is wearing a sweater with a wide neckline, I can see his gorgeous collarbones, moreover, he has his tongue stuck between his lips as he watches me.

Come on, I'm not that beautiful, he's blatantly faking it, but I'm not, I'm devastated by this sight.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I don't like Sunghoon, I'm glad he's doing it alone for his room."

"Just as well, he's not a good person." She accentuates his beautiful smile for some reason, then lays down emitting a tired breath.

"I've noticed … but do we think so for the same reason?"

"Of course not." He answers quickly, getting back up.

How strange, he became energetic all of a sudden. I've already sensed strange vibes between Jake and Riki, now with Sunghoon too? Jay's argument is becoming more and more credible, but why is Jake always in the middle?

"Aren't you going to ask me why?"

"Would you tell me?"

He allows himself a sexy laugh, to say the least, because any other adjective would be unheard-of vulgarity. "You're also smart then."

"I try."

While Jake takes a moment to respond to messages, I start walking around looking at his legos again, honestly not sure what to do.

"What is it you want to ask me?"

"Who's your bias?"

What? Him too? Egocentric these Enhypen.

"I don't have it."

"Liar!" He playfully accuses me, pointing at me.

How can such a sweet guy also be so damn erotic? I can't even breathe properly in his presence.

"I really don't."

"So…who do you think is the most handsome?"

Damn! He's too cute! I cover my mouth to avoid showing him my perverted smirk, then cough. "You're all equally handsome."

"It's just not me, is it? That's why you don't tell me."

It's exactly the opposite thesis from Heeseung's, convinced that it's him. Does this tell me anything? Possibly, but I am too enamored with my interlocutor to reason.

"What do you need to know, then…" I giggle, softly, almost hoping he doesn't hear me.

"Has anyone else asked you?"

I laugh again, more nervously. "Never mind, is that what you wanted to ask me?"

"I like to have confirmation of things I'm curious about."

I think that's the basis, Jake, but I don't want to contradict you because you're too handsome, honestly.

"I'm the most handsome, aren't I?"

Aha, identified: narcissistic, maybe pathological?

"You have millions of fans who are crazy about you, what do you care if you are to me?"

"Then it's not really me!"

Was he testing me in his own way? I have no idea but it's cute. Even the pouty, offended expression he gives me now is to bite, tear up, devour.

Thoughts too intrusive, fantasies too lucid.

"Even if I thought that, I wouldn't tell you." I admit, covering my mouth again before laughing this time for real.

"What? - He asks, his vowels are open, his tone childlike but teasing. - And why?"

"It's…quite a sight, seeing you like this."

He smiles, his gaze thinned, and why? "Like what?"

What's wrong with me? I feel like… make him mine, in a way.

"So desperate."

"Me? - He asks theatrically outraged. - Me desperate?"

"Don't you desperately want to be the most beautiful, for me?"

What am I saying? And with what courage? Who is this person? I usually go unnoticed, and not because I'm unattractive so much as because I can't sell myself very well, which is why I'm surprised to see myself in this state.

It's called the Jake effect, I don't think there is a cure.

"Do you want to see me even more desperate?" His voice is no longer innocent, neither is his gaze. A shiver runs through every single inch of my body, so strong it leaves me shaken.

Suddently someone open the door, it seems a habit to appear in this house.

"What are you doing?"

Jake glares at him, I couldn't even think of doing that. "What?"

"Let's decide what to eat." Riki replies, annoyed by his sour tone.

"Have you eaten?" Jaeyun then asks, I think to me, no yes, of course to me!

I nod nervously. I don't even know if I'm breathing right now.

"What did you eat? Everything looks the same in the kitchen. Look you don't have to order-"

"You ordered?!" Jake takes it personally.

"I didn't actually eat, I don't know why I said yes." I explain, guessing that instead of my face they are seeing a big bell pepper.

"Why didn't you eat?"

"Is it because of what Heeseung said?" Niki asks, and I don't understand.

He has been quiet and reserved from the first moment, but he wants me to believe that he is worried about me? Come on, I'm a woman of a certain age compared to him, right? I'm not naive, I keep saying that, right?

"No, no." I belittle it with a ridiculous noise coming from my nose.

"Come on, you've been cleaning all day! I'm hungry too."

Jake can't talk anymore, what's wrong with him? Why does he keep staring at Niki? Am I like the third wheel or…?

I don't know how many seconds pass before, in the tomb-like silence that has set in, the major gets up, looks at Niki again, mumbles in an absolutely adorable way, then lightly and amicably nudges him so that he can get out of his room.

"Come on, get out, get out. Let's go eat." He tells me in a way that is much more serious than his expression.

Man, I'm curious now. Very curious indeed.

NEXT CHAPTER:

hello, this is the first time i've left a note…i just wanted to apologize for this bad english and for the mistakes you've surely found - i hope you can continue reading the story because i had a lot of fun writing it (ten chapters are ready but i have to translate them ç_ç)

[chiqelatasblog]

CHAPTER SEVEN : UNEXPECTED BONDS

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Chapter Six link is here.

Pairing : Sub Zero / Bi-Han x Reader

Summary : Your brother’s letter heightens your anxiety about the mission, reaffirming your loyalty to the Tengu. However, you’re also growing unexpectedly fond of Bi-Han and his clan, who offer you a sense of openness and acceptance. Caught between these two clans, you feel the pressure mounting from both sides.

Author’s Note : Hi guys, I’m a lawyer in my country and opened my own office after spending four years being part of another law firm. Recently, I’ve started receiving cases, which made me extremely happy. However, it’s also been quite stressful because now all the responsibility lies on me. As a result, I haven’t had much time to focus on this story. I apologize for the delay.

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Seven years ago…

“I expected more from you on this mission,” your father’s voice resonated within his study, where you stood across from him. He remained seated behind his desk, his tone devoid of emotion, engrossed in the paperwork he hadn’t lifted his head from since your arrival.

“I apologize for the disappointment,” you responded in the same detached tone. Once again, your failure to meet expectations left your face expressionless, though inside, a storm brewed, betrayed only by the tight grip of your clenched fists. He didn’t bother to acknowledge you; it seemed you weren’t worth his attention.

“Your apologies hold no weight, daughter,” your father remarked, briefly glancing up from his papers. His furrowed brows and exasperated sigh only fueled your frustration. “If you sustain injuries on such a simple task, it’s evident you still have much to learn.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” you retorted dryly, the physical wound on your arm insignificant compared to the emotional wounds his words inflicted.

“I didn’t mention pain. As an assassin, you’re expected to endure,” his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you held your ground, refusing to show weakness. You had silently vowed to yourself long ago not to falter before him, despite the constant struggle to meet his standards. “Did you dispatch the guards while acquiring the relics?”

Your heart skipped a beat; your hesitation to kill was well-known within the clan. Instead, you focused on incapacitating opponents swiftly, avoiding the irreversible act of taking a life. While others found it amusing, to you, it was a matter of principle. Even as you treated all life with reverence, the notion of ending a human life seemed unfathomable. Life was sacred, and you couldn’t bring yourself to extinguish it unless absolutely necessary.

“I asked you a question, (y/n),” your father’s voice broke through your thoughts, causing you to startle. Your heart raced, feeling as if it might leap out of your chest and into the void once more.

“No,” you responded, your heart sinking as you saw the dissatisfaction etched on your father’s face. This mission had been your first solo endeavor, a step away from the watchful eyes of others. Despite its difficulties, you had managed to complete it and return home, albeit with a wound on your arm. You had felt a sense of pride until you faced your father’s disapproval.

The pride you had felt crumbled in an instant upon seeing his disappointment. Your very existence seemed to be a source of frustration for him. You had hoped to prove yourself this time, only to fail once again, fueling your anger towards yourself.

“You may leave. Summon someone to clean the blood you’ve dripped on the floor. You’ve stained the Iranian carpet,” your father’s tone was dismissive. Tears welled in your eyes, clouding your vision, but you held them back, refusing to let them fall. “Yes, sir,” you murmured, offering a slight curtsy before quietly exiting the room.

You attempted to compose yourself, taking deep breaths as you hurried down the wooden-floored corridor. Despite your efforts, a tear escaped and trailed down your cheek. Hastily, you wiped it away with the back of your hand, fearing anyone might witness your vulnerability. You glanced at the wound on your arm, which had slipped your mind in your eagerness to report back to your father upon returning from the mission.

“Another foolish mistake,” you muttered to yourself, frustration bubbling within.

As you withdrew your hand, you stared blankly at the blood staining your fingers, wondering if there was any point in trying. It seemed futile to change your father's opinion of you, knowing that as long as his views remained unchanged, the opinions of others in the clan would follow suit.

Years ago, attempting to prove yourself to someone who had once ordered an assassin to end your life might have seemed absurd to outsiders, but this was the only home you knew. You had no other refuge. Despite the harsh conditions, leaving the clan wasn't an option; betrayal would only lead to your demise. Additionally, venturing beyond Tengu territory meant entering enemy territory controlled by the Lin Kuei, offering no alternative but uncertainty and danger. Without sufficient funds, survival outside the clan's boundaries would be an impossible challenge.

"Haven't managed to please our father again, have you?" your brother's voice interrupted your thoughts, prompting you to don your emotionless mask once more as you regarded him with distant eyes. He smirked, casting a glance at the wound on your arm. "Looks like you could use a few stitches."

"Do you have something to say?" you asked in a monotone voice. "I'm in a hurry."

"In a hurry, are you?" your brother scoffed, the smile fading from his face. "Quite the rush for someone who just returned from a mission."

"Unlike some, I don't have time to waste," you replied icily.

Your brother's demeanor shifted, his crossed arms and intense gaze looming over you. Despite his subtle approach, you felt the threat emanating from him, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your brother moved with the stealth of a snake, silent and cunning. He left no trace in the snow, always poised to strike with his words and undermine your defenses. Engaging with you was one of his preferred pastimes, particularly as you grew stronger with time. He took pleasure in pushing your boundaries and exploiting any weaknesses he could uncover.

“I suggest you pay attention when speaking to me, sister. The future grandmaster stands before you,” your brother’s voice dripped with superiority as he invaded your personal space, gripping your hair and forcing your head back, making eye contact impossible. “A mere word from my lips could determine your fate here.”

“I am well aware of that, brother,” you replied, keeping your voice smooth and composed despite the pain shooting through your injured arm as he grabbed it, causing a stifled moan to escape your lips.

“I’m warning you for the last time, (y/n). My threats are not idle,” he hissed, leaning in close to your ear. “Our father’s time is limited. When the new era dawns, invest wisely.”

With a slight retreat, he studied your expression, knowing he struck a nerve.

“Who knows, perhaps then your position here might improve.’’

16 Hours Ago…

After bidding goodnight to everyone at dinner, you retreated to your room, seeking respite from the day’s weariness.

As you closed the door behind you, a sense of foreboding gripped you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling with unease. A faint rustle from the shadows alerted you to the presence of the crow lurking nearby. Silently, you turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing in the stillness of the room, ensuring your privacy from prying eyes.

Emerging from the darkness, the crow approached you on noiseless wings, its black feathers blending seamlessly with the shadows. With a steady hand, you extended your palm, feeling the cool rush of air as the bird alighted gracefully, its beady eyes fixed on you, the letter clutched in its beak.

After thanking the crow with a gentle stroke of its non-reflective head, you made it vanish from sight. Sitting at the edge of your bed, your legs trembled with an icy fear threatening to overwhelm you.

With trembling fingers, you broke the seal of the letter, revealing your brother’s familiar handwriting. There were no words of affection; he went straight to the point, as he always did.

(Y/N),

The contents of your letter have left me deeply disappointed. What you gleaned from your interactions holds no significance for our clan; I explicitly instructed you to show courage. Your objective is to impress the grandmaster, not to forge friendships. Remember, you are his wife, and as a woman, you must fulfill the duties expected of you. Failing to do so casts serious doubts on your commitment to this mission.

Pull yourself together and reaffirm your purpose. This is not a mere game; seize this opportunity wisely and rise to meet our expectations. If you cannot identify the clan’s vulnerabilities, you must create them, sister. We do not play by the rules; remember, they are our enemies

Think about our deceased clan members, the countless lives lost, the blood spilled in pursuit of our goals, and the sacrifices endured. Consider what we have lost and the burden our father bore until his final days, succumbing to illness brought on by the weight of our legacy… You have the power to mend these wounds, to honor the memory of our ancestors, our fallen brethren, and, above all, to uphold our father’s spirit.

As long as our blood courses through your veins, you remain a Tengu. Do not delude yourself into thinking otherwise.

You were born a Tengu, and you will die a Tengu.

You stared at the letter for several moments, bracing yourself for such a reaction, yet the sting of its words still pierced your heart.

It was foolish to harbor such hopes, as if every lifeline you grasped at was destined to crumble to dust the moment your fingers closed around it. Retrieving the moon from the sky seemed an easier task compared to fulfilling your brother’s demands.

As you reread the final sentences, a bitter laugh escaped your lips, betraying the turmoil in your heart despite the facade of sarcasm. “A member of the clan… How far from the truth those words ring,” you muttered. What significance did they hold in the face of years of disregard?

Despite your efforts to forge ahead and leave the past behind, the pain of past injustices still lingered, resurfacing from time to time. You never sought solace in self-pity or allowed your character to stagnate; your mother’s unwavering support had been a beacon of strength throughout. You neither aspired to emulate your father’s stoicism nor your brother’s manipulative ways. Instead, you longed for a life of honesty, tranquility, and simplicity. The only route you believed would pave the way for such peace was acceptance within the clan.

With a heavy heart, you rose from your seat, steadying yourself against a momentary bout of dizziness. Making your way to the desk nestled in the corner of the room, you retrieved a long match used to light the scented candles. Igniting the letter, you watched as the flames consumed the paper, erasing any evidence of its existence. Meanwhile, with a wave of your hand, you created a small portal to ensure the remnants of the letter vanished without a trace.

Even though you lacked expertise in the art of seduction, you possessed enough insight to recognize that Bi-Han was not easily swayed. His demeanor, as cold as ice, left little room for manipulation. A sense of despair gripped your heart as you gazed up at the full moon emerging from behind the clouds.

While there was no explicit deadline for this mission, your brother's impatience, as conveyed in his letter, compelled you to act swiftly. Time was more limited than you had initially anticipated. Running trembling hands through your hair, you silently appealed to any celestial being who might be listening.

"I don't know what to do. Please show me the way," you whispered into the night, your voice carrying a hint of desperation.

Today…

As your eyes slowly fluttered open, slipping away from the embrace of sleep, you found yourself momentarily disoriented, struggling to place your surroundings. Gradually, the events of the previous night began to crystallize in your mind, causing a blush to creep across your cheeks. It seemed almost surreal to think that last night wasn’t merely a figment of your imagination; never had you imagined the Lin Kuei grandmaster to exude such calm and warmth, even if you lacked the courage to acknowledge it.

The last time you felt such tranquility was in the presence of your mother, her comforting presence serving as a sanctuary where your defenses could lower and your anxieties could subside. To experience a semblance of that serenity after so many years was unexpected, to say the least.

Seeking confirmation that last night wasn’t a dream, you reached out to the spot on the couch where Bi-Han had been seated, now conspicuously empty. The aged leather of the sofa bore the marks of years of use, its surface cracked in places. As your hand made contact, you were surprised to find the leather still warm, causing you to recoil as if scalded. Your gaze then drifted to the coffee table, where a copy of The Little Prince lay, its pages marked. A sense of wonder and warmth washed over you, permeating your entire being from within.

Since nightmares were a recurring part of your life, you had learned to cope with them, but the heightened stress of recent days had taken its toll, dragging your already strained system further downhill with each passing night, until it finally collapsed entirely last night. Despite managing to navigate through the day with intermittent bouts of sleep, the past week had been increasingly challenging. The lack of rest made it difficult to discern reality from the realm of dreams, and the lingering effects of your nightmares persisted long after waking.

It was mortifying for Bi-Han to witness you in such a vulnerable state, particularly since he was among those you least wanted to appear weak in front of. You braced yourself for mockery, humiliation, or dismissal, as was his usual response to such situations. However, his unexpected display of empathy caught you off guard, shocking you even more than your nightmares had.

It wasn’t difficult for you to grasp the significance of this room to Bi-Han; his mother’s library held sacred memories that he cherished, a place untouched by outsiders. As you peered into the room, the reverence he held for this space became palpable. Every corner seemed to whisper of his mother’s presence, each item a testament to her memory. It was understandable why he had been reluctant to share this intimate space with you, fearing that your presence might tarnish these precious memories. Despite your initial surprise at his change of heart, it caused significant cracks in the walls of prejudice you had built against Bi-Han.

Yet, it also validated the fear that had been gnawing at you. The realization that he might not be the man he appeared to be stirred a disquieting uncertainty within you. As a professional, you prided yourself on your ability to separate duty from emotion, but now, you found yourself grappling with hesitation.

Encountering warmth, understanding, and tolerance shouldn’t have affected you so profoundly. Yet, here you stood, in a room where you didn’t belong, enveloped by the scent of aged books, beneath a comforting blanket, confronting a dilemma you hadn’t anticipated.

If you weren’t bound to Bi-Han by marriage, the circumstances might have been different. Here, your abilities could earn you recognition and influence, if only temporarily. But would that be enough to truly belong? You doubted it. If your upbringing had taught you anything, it was that belonging was a privilege rarely afforded to those like you.

And so, you had chosen this mission, seeking a place to belong, tired of constantly questioning your worth. You craved appreciation for your efforts, yearned for safety and peace. Yet, even as you lay your head upon the pillow, the nightmares persisted, a relentless reminder of the struggles that defined your existence. Despite your resilience, you found yourself teetering on the brink of exhaustion, pushed to the limits of your endurance.

The moment you became a part of Lin Kuei, you anticipated that this boundary would be tested, but the crucible where you were challenged came from an unexpected direction. With each passing day, it grew increasingly difficult to view them as enemies, and the emotions you had suppressed began to surface, gradually lodging like a lump in your throat.

Since the day you first entered this world, you had been locked in a perpetual struggle, your feelings dulled and hardened by the passage of time. Or so you had believed. After all, could one truly forget the taste of something they hadn’t experienced in years? It was a cruel realization, especially to confront it in a place ingrained in your mind as the domain of enemy clans.

As your fingers clutched the blanket draped across your lap, your lower lip trembled under the weight of your emotions. The impact of even the slightest semblance of sympathy was profound, rendering you a pitiful figure, huddled on the sofa, knees drawn to your chest, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if to contain the storm raging within. Despite representing a clan renowned for breeding impeccable assassins, you felt on the verge of crumbling at the slightest touch.

You didn’t want to entertain these emotions, didn’t believe you deserved the warmth and understanding extended to you, despite yearning for it deeply. You were a spy, after all—this facade would inevitably come to an end. You knew better than to get swept away by sentimentality, having prayed for this opportunity to manifest for years, wishing upon every shooting star that graced the unclouded night sky. You couldn’t afford to fail. You simply couldn’t.

Your heart is gripped by the anxiety that permeates your being; while your nightmares had been haunting, this mission proved to be worse than anything your subconscious could conjure. Despite yearning for this task with every fiber of your being, you found yourself unable to acclimate, unable to reconcile with this reality even after a month had passed. Though your brother had advised you to view them as mere pawns in your grand scheme, it grew increasingly challenging to maintain such detachment when confronted with their presence day in and day out. For the first time in years, you were not rendered invisible in the eyes of others; instead, they engaged with you, valuing your ideas and thoughts without reservation. How painful it was to meet the basic standards that should have been commonplace within your own clan.

“Ma’am, are you awake?” Startled by the click of the door, you drew a deep breath in an attempt to steady your racing heart, wiping the cold sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand as Frost’s silhouette materialized behind the door. “Ma’am, are you there?”

“Y-Yes.” You filled your lungs with the comforting scent of books, discreetly checking the corners of your eyes to ensure no tears had escaped, then hastily composing yourself without the aid of a mirror. “You may come in.”

Frost softly slid open the door, lingering at the threshold with an expression unlike her usual stern demeanor. Her blue eyes, as bright as the sky after a winter storm, held a hint of curiosity as she surveyed the room with careful consideration, as though seeing it for the first time. “So, this is how it looks,” you heard her mutter.

Your eyebrows raised in mild surprise; it seemed that this place had been off-limits not only to you but to others as well. While this revelation should not have affected you, you couldn’t suppress the faint smile that graced your lips, nor the gentle warmth that chased away the anxiety constricting your chest.

“The grandmaster said you could be here; I came to accompany you to your breakfast.”

“Oh, aren’t Wuhao and Zhiyu here?” you inquired, referring to your guards. Typically, after your morning meal, Frost would assume the role of guarding, standing a few paces away from you throughout the day until dinner.

“From now on, they will only keep watch at your door alternately at night, and I will accompany you during the day.”

You fell silent, taken aback by Bi-Han’s adherence to your request. You had wanted to conceal your powers and combat abilities until a critical moment, strategically following your brother’s advice that appearing weak and vulnerable would make it easier to approach Bi-Han. Men often perceived strength in women as a threat.

You had believed your brother’s words to be true until yesterday. However, in the time you had spent getting to know Bi-Han, you had observed that he was not easily impressed and seldom praised others without reason. His perfectionist nature placed immense pressure on everyone in the clan to act flawlessly.

Though you harbored confidence in yourself, you doubted your ability to sway Bi-Han, fearing disappointment more than anything else. Yet once again, Bi-Han defied your expectations. Amidst the turmoil of your nightmares, his invitation to spar felt like a lifeline thrown to you in the depths of despair.

During the bout, your focus sharpened, drowning out the chaos within. Every fiber of your being urged you to adhere to your brother’s plan, but in that moment, you craved something that would offer respite from the relentless tide of worry and fear. Each strike, each parry, was a fleeting escape from the suffocating weight of your worries, offering a brief respite in the dance of combat.

As the sparring unfolded, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in Bi-Han’s demeanor. The rigid lines of his face softened, replaced by a hint of genuine enjoyment that sparkled in his eyes. It was a stark departure from his usual stoic facade, and the sight sent a thrill coursing through your veins, quickening the beat of your heart.

“Shall we go?” Frost’s voice broke the silence, jolting you from your reverie. With flushed cheeks, you hastily rose to your feet, tidying up the area before following her. Though communication between you and Frost had waned, even conversing with Bi-Han seemed easier than attempting to engage with her.

As you were going out into the main hall, you heard Frost’s voice coming from behind.

‘’I saw how you fought yesterday.’’ Her voice, which normally had a tone that could be called arrogant, was now hoarse and had a hesitation that showed that she was having difficulty saying these things. ‘’You have been very good.’’

You looked over your shoulder at Frost, surprised by her compliment. Instead of making eye contact with you, the woman turned her gaze to the paintings hanging on the walls, her unusual white hair gleaming in the morning light like freshly fallen snow.

‘’Thank you.’’ You said it in a sincere voice. “I didn’t expect everyone to watch, frankly, if I had noticed you earlier, I probably wouldn’t have put on the same performance.’’

Frost’s brow furrowed, puzzled by your statement.

“Why would our presence affect you?” she asked.

Though a simple question, it carried deeper significance for you. Since losing your mother, you hadn’t opened up to anyone, nor had anyone shown enough interest to inquire about your inner thoughts.

“It’s just… when I know people are watching, I feel exposed to their judgment,” you admitted, your gaze drifting to the serene view beyond the balcony. “I worry about what they might think—whether my stance is weak, if I’m making mistakes, or if I’m not good enough.”

A derisive laugh escaped Frost’s lips, accompanied by the crossing of her arms in a defensive posture.

“Anyone who thinks like that can shove their thoughts where the sun doesn’t shine,” she retorted, her tone defiant. “You held your own against the grandmaster longer than anyone expected, including me.”

"Really?" Despite the hint of hope in your voice, you chided yourself for seeking validation. Still, hearing such words from someone like Frost offered a glimmer of validation.

"Yes. No one here dishes out compliments lightly, even to the grandmaster's wife. So believe me when I say, every move you made in that fight was calculated and purposeful. And you managed to balance the difference in physical strength admirably. Few have ever brought the grandmaster to the ground like that."

As your gaze shifted from the garden back to Frost, her expression remained composed. You offered a small smile, feeling the warmth in your cheeks rise at her words.

“Since we are making some confessions, then I will confess something too. The first week I came here, I saw you training. The drill you did with the ice was incredible, I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Oh… Well, thank you,” Frost said, a bemused expression crossing her face as she was caught off guard by your compliment. “It was a move I learned from Master Bi-Han.”

With that, a tentative conversation blossomed between you. Despite lingering doubts and reservations, the icy barrier between you began to thaw, replaced by a neutral ground devoid of prejudice and hostility.

As you reached the corridor leading to the dining room, you spotted Bi-Han exiting the room, engaged in a hushed conversation with Cyrax. His gaze fell upon you, and as he made his way toward you, a peculiar flutter stirred in your chest.

Dressed impeccably in his clan attire, Bi-Han appeared flawless as ever. His muscular frame filled out the fabric snugly, and his jet-black hair, neatly tied back save for a few loose strands, framed his pale complexion. His movements were graceful, akin to the stealthy stride of a predator. It baffled you how someone of his stature could move with such silence.

“Good morning,” you greeted softly. As Frost and Cyrax stepped away, Bi-Han’s penetrating gaze lingered on you, seemingly analyzing every detail.

“Morning,” Bi-Han replied, his tone measured. “I hope you had a nightmare-free night.”

“Yes,” you responded, a small smile gracing your lips. Lowering your voice, you added, “Thank you for last night. You can’t even guess what it means to me. I haven’t had uninterrupted sleep like that in a long time.”

Your words seemed to elicit a response more counterproductive than you had anticipated. Bi-Han’s eyes narrowed with displeasure, forming thin lines, while his perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed in a manner that mirrored his expression. You rooted yourself to the spot, resisting the urge to fidget as you pondered where you had erred. It was too early in the day to wrestle with another concern.

“Now that you know its location, you’re free to use it as long as you refrain from causing any damage,” Bi-Han stated, his voice maintaining a calm tone that belied the tension in his expression. Surprised by his allowance, you blinked several times to ensure you had heard correctly.

“Does that mean I can visit again?” you asked, seeking confirmation.

“I believe we’re speaking the same language,” Bi-Han replied with a touch of mockery in his tone. This detail, which would have irked you initially, now felt oddly comforting. You had learned to discern when Bi-Han was genuinely serious, even when he employed humor or mockery. A smile tugged at your lips, growing more pronounced.

“Thank you, this is very precious to me. Have no doubt that I will approach with respect,” you assured him warmly, your smile widening to reveal your teeth. “Also, thank you for rethinking what I said about the guards yesterday and for coming to an assessment.”

“Consider it’s a trial period,” Bi-Han stated, his expression still rigid as his deep voice retained its composure. “If I find it unsatisfactory, it will revert to how it was before.’’

Despite his stern demeanor, the fact that he had reconsidered your suggestion was a significant improvement in your eyes.

“There used to be helpers in my clan who regularly went down to the city center one day a week,” you ventured after a brief silence. “Does the same thing apply here?”

“Yes, there are people who go shopping to meet the clan’s needs on certain days. Do you need something?”

“No, I have everything, thank you. I just need a little change of environment. I want to go with them for a few hours.”

Bi-Han’s expression soured, his eyebrows furrowing with clear displeasure at your request.

“You are my wife, and as such, we have many allies as well as enemies. The moment you step out of here, you become a target for those who wish to reach me. Besides, let’s not forget how quickly you were poisoned. We still don’t know who’s behind it. Do you want to risk a repeat?”

“I thought I proved myself to you,” you replied, a hint of anger and disappointment coloring your voice. “Stop seeing me as weak. I can take care of myself.”

Bi-Han snarled and took a step towards you, but you met his dark gaze head-on, refusing to back down or feel intimidated by his imposing looks.

“I don’t see you as weak or anything, I’m just stating the facts,” he clarified. ‘’Then are you planning to keep me confined here forever? I’m your wife, not your prisoner. If you think I’m going to spend the rest of my life hiding behind the walls of this temple, you’re mistaken.’’

As the truth of your words hung heavy in the air, you were reminded once again of the painful reality. Yes, your time here was limited, and you would eventually return to your clan.

But right now, you needed a change of scenery. Being confined within these walls only added to the pressure of the mission, and the rift between you and Bi-Han was another unsettling detail. It seemed increasingly unlikely that you would fulfill your brother’s hopes within the given time frame.

‘’When I was in my clan, I faced similar dangers because my father was the grandmaster. I was always a target due to my position. I understand the expectations, risks, and responsibilities that come with it. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in such a situation, and I won’t let fear dictate my life.”

‘’Are you telling me I’m a coward?’’ Han remarked coolly, his voice a restrained hiss. You continued your explanation in a voice that you hoped was polite, lifting your chin in a graceful manner that showed that you were not affected by the cold air that was starting to spread in the air. You didn’t want Bi-Han to feel more provoked by understanding the opposite of what you meant.

‘’No, I see you don’t trust me, that’s all. I wish you would trust me a little in this matter, as in your mother’s library. That’s all I’m asking of you.’’

Bi-Han’s fists tightened on both sides. While his expression became completely illegible, his body was alert and he looked big enough to make you feel small. After taking a smoky breath, his gaze softened vaguely, almost faintly enough to make you stumble.

‘’It’s not my intention to hold you in here either, but I can’t knowingly throw you in there with my own hands, knowing the dangers outside. I have to be careful, the future of my clan-‘’

‘’It comes first of all, I know.’’

Bi-Han took another step towards you, now you were close enough to touch each other. Judging by the clean smell rising from him, he had just been washed. Throughout your time here, you had never known Bi-Han to smell anything less than pristine or to exhibit any behavior that would cause you to avert your gaze. Instead, you were enveloped in his unique masculine fragrance, lingering even after hours of training. It was reminiscent of the crisp, refreshing scent that precedes a snowfall.

‘’You are a very snip-snap, I never thought I could like this feature in a person.’’ Said Bi-Han, he said it in a low voice, more like he was confessing it to himself. One hand went up as if to touch a few tufts of hair falling in front of your face, then realizing what he was doing, he pulled his hand back immediately.

Surprised at the disappointment you felt, but trying to hide your hot cheeks, you averted your gaze from him. The touch of him when you burned your hand during breakfast yesterday was etched on your skin.

As a cryomancer, someone famous for his ice powers, his touch was careful and gentle, while using his powers for a much different purpose this time, rather than taking lives. You liked the fact that he could approach you so differently when he wanted to, even though you avoided admitting it to yourself. More than enough. It was a strange feeling to be deprived of this even though he was so close now, leaving a faint ache in the pit of your stomach as you struggled to maintain your composure.

“Forget what I just said,” you interjected, unable to bear the awkward silence any longer. “My intention wasn’t to stir controversy or tension. I’ll join you for training after breakfast.”

You were about to walk past him when Bi-Han stopped you by grabbing you by the arm with a grip that you could call gentle. His touch was cold, between his fingers that felt like handcuffs, you felt more fragile than you’ve ever been. His controlled power was so apparent that it made you shudder to realize how easily he could inflict harm if he chose to.

“As Grandmaster, I must prioritize the protection of my clan, and you are a part of it,” Bi-Han explained, his breath forming tiny crystals in the air as he spoke. “While your request is reasonable, I cannot grant more than two hours.”

Listening to his response once again, warmth flooded your entire being, akin to basking under the summer sun. Instead of curtly dismissing your request, he made an effort, sincerely attempting to understand and accommodate your wishes. Unlike anyone in your clan, this man you’ve known for just a month consistently surprised you by his willingness to listen and understand.

After a long time, thanks to him, you had a peaceful sleep without nightmares. He granted you permission to use a room he held dear, considered your input about the guards, and reduced their number to a reasonable level. Words alone weren’t enough to express your gratitude; you needed him to understand your sincerity.

Your body surged with intense excitement, as if caught in a small electric current, urging you to do something you’d never done before. Your palms itched with anticipation, a rapidly rising energy overtaking you. Despite your usual controlled and calm nature, you struggled to hold yourself together.

‘’Two hours is quite enough, thank you.’’ Immediately after your words, you stood up on tiptoe and surprised both yourself and Bi-Han by planting a tiny, imperceptibly light kiss on his cold cheek. ‘’I promise to come before I turn into a pumpkin,’’ you added with a playful tone, a reference to Cinderella’s need to leave the ball before midnight in the fairy tale.

Bi-Han’s whole body stiffened, you hoped that he wouldn’t hurt you against your sudden movement, and because of your flaming face along with your brave move, you ran out of there without waiting to see Bi-Han’s reaction.

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part nine

We'll be back to Wed/Fri next week I promise!! Btw I listened to "Decode" a lot while writing more of Hotch spiraling so......

Warnings: reader dealing w the aftermath of how Hotch treated her in the last chapter, more lies

Follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be "tagged" when a new chapter goes up!

Nine: How did we get here? -- "Decode" by Paramore

After you left, Hotch continued talking to himself for a few seconds before “ending” the phone call. He felt stupid faking a call, but he needed you to leave and not ask questions. He knew you had questions, and that was worrisome.

He hadn’t meant for all of that to happen. But he felt better now, reinvigorated, so that was worth it, he supposed. He needed the boost of energy. He had unsubs to find. You would understand.

The unsub who ran would be hard to find, Hotch knew that. He was good at hiding, it was what took them so long to track him down in the first place, and they wouldn’t have if it weren’t for the kid.

But there were others Hotch could take care of in the meantime. One in particular was just a few hours south. He could use a road trip.

+++

You didn’t tell anyone about your night with Aaron. You couldn’t. You were barely able to make sense of it in your own mind, let alone speak it out loud to someone else.

The way he handled you. It was different from before. His hands had changed.

You took the day off from work, telling Rossi you just needed to sleep. The last case exhausted you; that was all. He tried to press, but eventually let you go.

But you didn’t sleep. You slept after having sex with Aaron because you were past the point of exhaustion. You had no choice but to sleep, but now you weren’t tired enough. Your mind was still awake and running wild with questions.

You replayed the night over in your brain until it felt like it didn’t happen at all.

You laid on your couch, stared at the ceiling, and dozed. Remade the night in your head until it was a fantasy of what could’ve been if he had only let you in and let you love him in the first place.

Your phone rang and you wished it was Aaron, but knew it wasn’t. It was Penelope.

You rolled over, and let your voicemail answer.

+++

Hotch made good time driving south to North Carolina. Between energy drinks and chewing Excedrin, he barely needed to sleep at all. The four-hour drive breezed past, and soon he was sitting outside the unsub’s neighborhood, waiting.

He thought too much about you. Turning the radio as loud as it went did nothing to fight off the images of you that flashed before his eyes.

The previous version of him, before Foyet, would have called you instead of repeatedly searching the radio for something interesting. He always ended back up on the news, wanting to hear what was going on locally. Sometimes he checked national news, and sometimes he checked specific forums that he knew to watch, just in case he appeared there.

His stomach growled, and he cussed at it. He knew he should’ve eaten something before parking, but he couldn’t get this unsub off his mind. He’d eat after he handled this unsub. That was a deal he made for himself. He’d be hungry after this, and he needed to drive back to Quantico tonight, too. He couldn’t stay.

It took a few hours until Hotch saw the unsub’s car returning to the neighborhood. Hotch waited a few minutes before jumping out of his car and following.

With his gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans on his back, he knew what he had to do. He didn’t have as much time as he wanted with this unsub, but that was fine. He walked right up to his house, bypassing the open garage to ring the doorbell out front. The unsub answered with a confused greeting.

The ruse worked all the same. The unsub let Hotch into his house willingly, asking “Gideon” how he had been. How nice it was of him to check in. How the unsub had his life turned around.

Hotch waited until the unsub bent to grab drinks from the fridge. He shot him twice in the back of the head and neck, and left him there. The unsub lived alone, but someone would find out eventually. It wasn’t Hotch’s business.

He closed the garage and shut the lights off before he left. No one was home, after all.

+++

You went back to work after one day off. You needed to get off the couch and out of your apartment before you drove yourself insane with overthinking.

What the hell were you thinking? Going to Hotch’s place and going inside like that. Letting him do those things to you. No one could ever know about that. You knew that much. It had to remain a secret. You weren’t supposed to have any contact with him. You knew that, and you broke that rule. Foolishly. You knew better than that.

Penelope was the first to ask how you were doing. You swore she had special senses or something because she was waiting for you when you got off the elevator.

“Hey,” she called out, walking beside you, her heels clicking on the floor. “Rossi said you stayed home yesterday out of the blue. I tried calling you but it went to voicemail.”

“I know, I’m sorry Pen,” you tried to smile. “I was just really tired so I didn’t look at my phone or anything.”

“Okay,” she frowned. “Can I do anything? Tea? Do you want to get lunch together?”

“Sure,” you conceded, smiling genuinely then. “I’d love that. Let’s do lunch.”

“Awesome,” she grinned, her pink lipgloss sparkling with her smile. “I’m off to the cave. Come see me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded. “I will, thanks Pen.”

Her concern worried you more than anything. You didn’t think you were that obvious with how bad you were doing. You thought you were hiding it well, but then again, there was never any hiding when working with profilers. Even Pen, who didn’t profile every day, still knew her friends extremely well and knew when something was wrong.

Everyone else knew, too. The second you walked through the glass doors, Emily was up and giving you a hug, asking if you felt any better. JJ followed and rubbed your back, asking if you wanted any coffee. Derek came over and gave a hug as well, and his stern look of worry. Reid waved from his desk and said it was glad to see you back.

“I was gone for one day,” you laughed, putting your purse down on your desk and plopping yourself down in your chair.

“It was kinda out of nowhere though,” Reid piped up. “Were you sick?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. “I was just exhausted, I think. I slept the whole day.”

“Were you avoiding something?”

“Reid,” Morgan warned. “Relax.”

Spencer grimaced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you shook your head. “Maybe I was, who knows? I’ll bring it up to my therapist,” you grinned, but none of them laughed. You cleared your throat. They stared back at you. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Nothing,” Emily said, shrugging, letting out a weak chuckle. “We all need therapists after the few months we’ve had.”

“You guys don’t have therapists?” Reid asked.

That got everyone to laugh.

“Oh, uh, by the way,” Morgan nudged your shoulder. “Rossi wanted to see you at some point today.”

“Okay…” He probably just wanted to check on you, but still, it unnerved you. “I’ll go get that over with now.”

You hauled yourself up and skipped up the stairs, bypassing Hotch’s office. You tried not to look at the door too long, but it startled you, seeing it empty. You kept walking, knocking on Rossi’s door and listening for him to invite you inside.

He opened the door for you, looking relieved to see that it was you. “Hey, come on in.”

You were welcomed inside and sat down on Rossi’s couch, and he took the seat next to you. You thought this meant that the conversation was a friendly check-in, but it verged away from friendly very quickly.

“Did you visit Aaron?”

You tried to keep your shock under control. “I did.”

“How was he?” Rossi asked.

“Good,” you lied. “I gave him some flowers. They seemed to cheer him up.”

“That’s good,” Rossi smiled softly. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you lied again, this time shrugging. “Moving on from it. Thanks for letting me have yesterday off. Resting really helped.”

Rossi waved his hand. “No need to thank me, but I’m glad it helped.” He paused, exhaling. “Strauss is worried about Aaron.”

“We all are,” you shrugged. “He’s been through a lot.”

“Yes, he has,” Rossi agreed. “But she’s…more concerned than we are, I’ll say. I was wondering if you wanted to shed some light on how he’s doing.”

“I mean, he…” You trailed off, fiddling with your hands. Should you say something? You didn’t care about betraying him. You did that when you first contacted Strauss. Betraying him wasn’t the issue.

It was admitting to yourself that something was wrong with him. Deeply. Enough to cause serious, genuine worry. Enough to intervene.

But what proof of that did you have? That he fucked you and kicked you out? You were not going to disclose that information, especially not to Rossi.

“He’s as good as you can expect him to be while grieving,” you finally said. “I think he’s fine.”

Rossi clearly did not believe you, but he let it go, and let you go back to your desk, which was completely fine with you.

You were saddled with paperwork that you didn’t do yesterday, and more because apparently new Use of Force reports are due. When are they not due?

Lunchtime rolled around slowly, and you sprung up from your desk like you were on a trampoline when Penelope came waltzing through the doors.

She laughed when she saw you were already standing. “Normally I have to pry you from your desk.”

“I’m starving,” you said. It was a half-lie. “Where are we eating?”

“Wherever you want,” she linked your arm in hers. “Anyone else want to join? JJ?”

JJ walked past briskly, shaking her head. “Can’t, sorry, sorting through some files.” She bounded the steps to the second level, pausing to lean over the railing. “I’ve misplaced a couple-- It’s not a big deal, they’re probably just buried under everything, but still. Thanks though.” She breezed into Rossi’s office and shut the door.

Pen blinked. “Okay.” She gave you a weird look and you returned it. “Any other takers?”

Reid was mid-bite of his usual PB&J, and Emily and Morgan were on the phone, shaking their heads.

You and Pen left the BAU alone, preparing for an ultimate girls lunch. Complete with food and gossip. Except, you weren’t in the mood for gossip because all Pen wanted to know about was Hotch. Before you even ordered food, Pen started with the questions.

“Okay, obviously something happened, because you never go off the grid like that.” She leaned forward on the table. “What happened yesterday?”

“Nothing happened,” you insisted. Because technically, it was the day before. Not that that even remotely mattered. “I was just tired.”

“Did you go see Hotch?”

Your eyes widened. “Penelope.”

“I knew it!” she cheered quietly. “I knew it! You two were too close when he was here, I knew you’d keep in touch.”

“We haven’t exactly kept in touch,” you replied. “He refuses to speak to me.” Technically the truth. He did refuse to speak to you. He might have fucked you, but there was no talking involved. Barely any.

“What?”

“I went to his apartment with some flowers to apologize and wish him well but he… He refused to speak to me,” you shrugged. “I mean, he took the flowers, but we barely spoke, and I left.” You kept your eyes down on your drink, swirling your straw, hoping you came across as ashamed and not a liar.

“Oh, babe…” Penelope rested her hand on yours. “I am so sorry. You really liked him.”

“I did,” you exhaled through a small laugh, then shook your head. “But it’s fine. Other fish in the sea, and all that. Not to mention,” you lowered your voice, “he’s my boss, Pen. What was I thinking?”

“Uh, you were thinking how hot it is,” she replied, her voice just above a whisper, but she was grinning. “It’s fine to have fantasies! Don’t beat yourself up over it.” She squeezed your hand.

“Thanks, Pen,” you smiled, squeezing her hand back. “Now. What are we thinking for food? I really am starving.”

+++

Hotch was just about to head out to find another unsub when his phone began ringing. He sighed heavily and spun around, hoping it wasn’t you, because the last thing he wanted to do was deal with you any more. It turned out to be Rossi.

“Hey Dave,” Aaron made sure to smile as he said it, hoping that translated in his tone. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Rossi sighed. “The usual. What are you up to?”

Aaron set his duffle bag down gently. Rossi never called for no reason. “Was just about to head on a short run,” Aaron said.

“Running a lot lately, huh?”

“Yeah,” Aaron chuckled, suddenly worried. Was Rossi onto him? How was he supposed to know? He felt ridiculous, being a profiler and unable to tell what Rossi was feeling. “It’s been good for uh…coping, you know. I don’t know,” he laughed. “I probably sound stupid.”

“Not at all,” Dave replied. “I won’t keep you. I just had one quick question.”

There it is. “Sure, what is it?”

“JJ is missing a few files, and I was just wondering if you might have them. The Holman case, the Goodman case, and a few others.”

“Holman?” Hotch asked. “Wasn’t he killed a few days ago?” Only a few days ago…what happened to the time?

“Yeah,” Dave sighed. “Anyway, take a look through your office after your run and give me a call, deal?”

“Deal,” Hotch said, smiling again. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“See ya,” Dave replied. “Don’t give yourself a stroke.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hotch laughed. “Bye.”

Hotch sighed, setting his phone on the counter. This next unsub had to wait until the next day. Hotch had files to burn.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Summit : Chapter Five

A Ransom Drysdale Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 5k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER FOUR | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER SIX

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

793 days since the world ended

            The doe was in your sights. You had Ransom’s father’s hunting rifle balanced against your shoulder. He had attempted to show you how to use it, to not throw yourself off balance when it kicked, but you had been taught to hunt a young age. So when he moved forward to shadow you, you simply moved out from under him & shot at a 45 degree angle into the sky, not losing a smidge of balance.

            He had looked impressed, “Alright, then.” He commented, an amused smile on his face, “You know what you’re doing.”

            You offered a sarcastic smile at that.

            Then you two moved through the forestry for a few hours. It was about midday when you came across the first sign of life. You both froze, peering around silently for the doe. When you spotted her, she was standing in the middle of a clearing, sniffing the earth floor. You & Ransom were about 30 feet away.

            Quietly & slowly, you both lowered yourselves until you were on your front side. Ransom remained on his knees beside you as he watched the doe while you finessed the scope on top of the rifle.

            Then you peered through the lens.

            She was a beautiful one. Fully grown but on the younger side. Her ears were perched, listening for any danger, but she never picked up on either of you.

            You steadied your breathing, your finger just on the side of the trigger as you readjusted the rifle.

            Ransom whispered beside you, “What are you waiting for?”

            You tossed him a narrow glare.

            He sighed heavily but quietly. You saw in the corner of your eye as his jaw ticked.

            Peering back through the lens, you watched as the doe was none the wiser to her impending demise. For a moment, you thought about how not too long ago she was you. Alone in the forest, just trying to survive before two men decided to attack you.

            Who were you to decide that the doe’s life was worth taking?

            Thoughts riddled you, making you question whether it was necessary. After all, there was still plenty of food left inside Ransom’s home. Neither of you were hurting. Yet when Ransom asked you earlier that morning if you wanted to hunt game with him, you were more than happy to join him. It had been a while since you’ve properly hunted, especially with a rifle.

            But now there you were, the doe ready for the taking, & you were hesitating.

            “Give me the gun.” Ransom lowered himself till his voice was in your ear.

            No. You tensed & relaxed your muscles as you gently placed your finger over the trigger.

            With the doe locked in your sights, you exhaled, closed your eyes, then pulled the trigger.

            A shot rang through the forest & you heard the bullet whip through the air before making impact. The doe wailed before thudding to the earth.

            Ransom jumped in the air beside you, “Nice fuckin’ shot!”

            You slowly opened your eyes, & realized only then that your arms were shaking. Shaking off the nerves, you stood yourself up & handed the rifle to Ransom.

            He took it proudly as he smiled down at you, “Guess dinner’s on me tonight. You killed, I’ll cook.”

            The two of you began making your way towards the clearing wear the doe lied. But as you grew closer, you heard the moans.

            “Ah, shit.” Ransom uttered as the two of you stepped into the clearing.

            There, in the center, with a small pool of blood beneath it, the doe groaned in pain. You watched as it kicked it’s feet in reaction to the both of you appearing. You stared at it’s body, noting the bullet wound. You had missed the chest cavity by a few inches.

            “We gotta put it out of its misery.” Ransom told you, producing a hunting knife from his pocket, “Want honors?”

            But you made no indication of having heard him.

            The doe was staring at you as you were staring at it. You felt your race quicken & shatter. You swallowed a nauseating lump forming in your throat as you slowly approached the dying creature.

            “I wouldn’t…” Ransom started saying but you ignored him.

            The doe struggled some more as you kneeled near it. Then very slowly, you brought your hand towards it & began running your palm along its neck, comforting it.

            I’m sorry.

            It moaned in pain again. You saw the fear in her eyes as she watched you warily.

            As you pet it a few more times, you felt a few tears roll down your cheeks.

            Then you bent forward, your head closer to hers. Your forehead was just about to touch hers when she suddenly jolted & whined louder.

            You jumped backwards, falling on your butt as you looked to see what caused her sudden outburst.

            Ransom had stuck a knife into her chest, right where her heart was, & twisted.

            The doe released a final breath of air before stilling.

            Your jaw shook, the need to sob coming on strong but you kept it at bay as you saw Ransom’s hand pull the knife out.

            “Sorry.” He said, avoiding your eyes as he stared at the now resting doe, “She was in pain.”

            You simply nodded. Had you shot her right to begin with, she would’ve had a quicker death. Ransom completed the task for you.

            “You alright?” He asked, his eyes finally meeting your own.

            You signed back.

            “Well…” He sighed, nodding to the doe, “now comes the hard part.”

            You had tried helping Ransom with the gutting process but you found your hands shaking when you tried. Eventually, he insisted that you just sit back & relax while he gets it done. You sat on the edge of the clearing, your back to the process & your hands over your ears as you attempted to block out the gruesome sounds.

            Thankfully, Ransom had been quick with it, & even made sure to toss the remains into the forest before having you come over to help him.

            He took the front two limbs of the doe as you gathered the back two. Then you two began your journey back to the estate.

            Fortunately, Ransom let you lead the way, leaving the doe you killed you & were helping carry quite literally behind you, out of sight. Then you were able to focus on getting back without shaking.

            You didn’t understand your reaction back there. You had never had a problem hunting before. Perhaps at the very beginning of your lessons, but you always reminded yourself of what your mother had said, & since then, you’d been able to hunt fine. But all of a sudden, out of nowhere, it was like you had forgotten all those ethical lessons & reminders. You didn’t understand, but you hoped it would be the only time it happened.

            After a few breaks & couple hours, you & Ransom finally made it back to the estate. Once the two of you reached the backyard, he dropped the doe & nodded towards the house, “Why don’t you go take a bath, I got it from here.”

            You frowned slightly, signing to him. Are you sure?

            He paused to remember your own lessons to him with sign language.

            “Yeah, it’s fine. Gonna be a couple hours before dinner is ready so just take your time, nap, do whatever. I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat.”

            Normally, you’d sign your argument to him, knowing you were more than capable to assist him. But you didn’t have the heart.

            Signing your thanks, you turned your back on Ransom & the doe & headed inside.

            A bath sounded like a great idea after sweating for a handful of hours. But your energy was quickly dissipating. All you wanted was to lie down & nap for however long your body would let you.

            So, you decided to do just that.

            Once in your room, you locked the door & slipped out of your pit-stained shirt before crawling under the sheets of your bed. It was still bright outside & the sun bled into the room, keeping it warm but you didn’t mind. Having grown up in the south your whole life, it wasn’t nearly as warm as you were used to. You had slept under worse circumstances.

            As you rolled onto your side & tucked your knees into your chest, you wrapped your arms around your chest & felt your eyes flutter close.

            You woke with a start. Your chest heaving & covered in sweat. You sat up feeling groggy & when you glanced down, you noted how the covers you had fallen asleep with were kicked off, all waddled together at the foot of your bed.

            Sitting forward, you wiped the sleep from your eyes & glanced around. It had gotten dark out, but it wasn’t night, not yet. You imagined it was late evening.

            Slipping off the bed, you grabbed the towel you typically used from the chair closest to the door & entered the hallway.

            You could hear faint music coming from downstairs. You imagined Ransom in the kitchen, making the dinner he told he was going to do, & allowed yourself a small smile.

            It had been around a month since you’ve met him & as the weeks passed, you found yourself living a domesticated life. The estate sat on a number of acres, the closest abandoned house a 10 minute walk away. And if it hadn’t been for the constant reminder in the back of your head that the world had ended, you’d be convinced that you were living the simple solitary life with a man you met in the woods.

            But that wasn’t the case. You were a survivor surviving with another survivor. And as surreal it felt sometimes to think that this could be your life should you choose it to be, it would never actually be real. All good things must come to an end, & your end goal was still St. Johns.

            Walking the rest of the way down the hallway, you entered the bathroom. What you saw surprised you. There were candles placed around the space & you saw steam billowing from the already filled tub.

            Had Ransom taken a bath?

            But you answered your own question when you reminded yourself that Ransom had his own bathroom. He rarely used the one you did.

            So he…

            The thought unnerved you. There was no one else who would have set this up for you. Ransom had proven to be mostly trustworthy, but he, more than you, seemed to enjoy the domesticated like the two of you had unintentionally formed together. You didn’t want him to feel like he was obligated to take care of you, let alone, wanted to take care of you. And at that thought, another uncomfortable realization dawned on you.

            How would he react when you did finally leave? Because you would leave. One day. Sooner than later.

            So far, he had never tried to stop you from leaving, not forcefully anyways. He had made arguments on why you staying would be beneficial for you both, which is ultimately why you had made the decision to stay for a bit longer, but it was a choice.

            Still, part of you was worried that the longer the two of you lived together during the end times, he would make it harder to leave.

            But you hoped that was just your paranoia.

            So, pushing those thoughts to the side for now, you undressed & slipped into the tub, allowing your muscles to relax & re-strengthen.

            You stayed in the tub until you began to shiver. The heat of the water having cooled after a lengthy amount of time. You found yourself dozing off a few times during your wash but managed to stay awake.

            Once you got out of the tub, you dried off then wrapped yourself in your towel before gathering your lump of clothes. You began making your way to the door to leave when you paused.

            A shadow crept on the other side & you stilled as you watched it shift.

            He was there, on the other side.

            Mild fear coursed through you as you realized how vulnerable you were. All you short history with Ransom flew out the window when you spotted his shadow under the crack of the door & all your survival instincts locked in.

            Despite appearances, Ransom wasn’t a friend. He was still a stranger, a man. He wasn’t your father, or even the boys on the farms that you grew up on. And even so, you wouldn’t trust those boys either.

            Quickly eyeing the space, you spotted an object you could use as defense if need be. It was a heavy marble ball, a decorative piece. It was bigger than your own hand but you still gripped it roughly. Swallowing a lump that had formed in your throat, you kept the ball hidden behind your back as you stepped towards the door. Your eyes never left the shadow peeking in from under the crack.

            The only offensive tactic you had was to catch him by surprise. So, as quick as flash, you unlocked the door & swung it open.

            Your arm jolted, prepared to raise the ball & bring it down, but you halted when your connected with Ransom’s.

            He was leaning on the wall opposite of the bathroom door. But more so, he looked casual, as if he was simply waiting in line for the bathroom. It wasn’t until he smiled kindly at you that you took in the rest of his appearance. Unlike his usual t’s during the day or his sweaters at night, Ransom was dolled up; wearing a white button down tucked into a pair of black dress pants. His feet were bare.

            “You alright?” He finally asked, having must’ve noted your defensive stance. The ball was still hidden behind your back. Your fingers ached from the weight of it.

            You nodded, eyeing him warily.

            Ransom accepted your answer before continuing, “Dinner’s ready. And I made it extra special so I laid something out on the bed for you. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want, but I figured after this afternoon’s gore we could do with some fun.”

            Fun? The word seemed foreign to you.

            You stiffly nodded once more.

            “Okay, well.” It didn’t escape you how he did a quick once over of you. And it was then that you were reminded you were naked with only a towel covering you.

            You stepped back & behind the door, the ball still tight in your palm.

            “I’ll leave you to it. See ya down there.” With that, he pushed himself off the wall & headed for the stairs before disappearing down them.

            You frowned after him, listening until you heard his footfalls on the ground floor. Finally, you released a breath of air before allowing your muscles to relax. You returned the marble ball to its original place before peeking your head into the hallway once more. Ransom was nowhere in sight.

            Quickly & quietly, you sped walked to your room & slipped inside, shutting the door behind you & securing the lock.

            Ransom had not been up to no good, but you had to remind yourself you couldn’t trust him, not fully anyway. It was still you vs. him vs. the world.

            Turning to the face the room, you about made for the nearby dresser where Ransom had left you clothes that belonged to his cousin but you had only taken a step when you spotted the dress on your bed.

            It was lacey & pink, reminiscent of the 40’s or 50’s. It looked almost vintage but you had never worn, let alone, owned anything of the sort so you couldn’t say for sure.

            Fingering the fabric of the dress, you looked at the objects surrounding it. A pair of matching pink shoes, a jeweled bracelet, & a pair of pearly white earrings.

            Rasom expected you to wear this?

            You recalled how he said you didn’t have to. But as you stared at the items, you thought there would never be another reason to wear something so…pretty. And thought pretty wasn’t your thing, you figured perhaps Ransom was right. After today, it wouldn’t hurt to be something, or someone, else.

            Dropping the towel, you got changed into the dress & slipped your feet into the shoes. The bracelet was loose on your wrist but not enough to fall off. It wasn’t until you picked up the earrings that you realized a dilemma. Your ears weren’t pierced.

            You stood in front of the only full length mirror in the room, holding the earrings up to your ears. They did add a little flare to the fit.

            Chewing your lip in contemplation, you steeled yourself as you brought one of the earrings to your lobe. Wincing quietly, you stuck the earring through until you heard your skin pop & the narrow metal rod slid through.

            That wasn’t so bad…

            You did the same to the other ear. Your lobes throbbed from the sudden assault but you’d felt worse pain. There was really nothing else to do to finish getting dressed. You had never learned how to do your hair or make-up, so you simply fingered your hair until it looked adequate. It was still wet but you didn’t mind.

            Staring at yourself in the mirror, you admired yourself once more. This would likely be the last time you dressed in something so elegant. The world had no room anymore for the finer things in life.

            Leaving the bedroom, you walked down the hallway & descended the stairs. There was no music playing but you could hear the crackle & pop of a vinyl still running. You followed the sound until it led you to the dining room.

            You paused in the doorway, taking in the room. You had been in here before, but only in passing. Now it was lit up with candles & the mobile vinyl cart was situated in the corner. The table had been cleared of all placemats except for two at either end of the 10 person table.

            At the other end of the dining room, Ransom appeared, carrying two plates in his hands. He stopped & stared at you, a faint smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

            “Wow.” He breathed out, his eyes twinkling as he took in your appearance, “You look… beautiful.”

            The word made you shift awkwardly as you glanced down at the dress. You shrugged your shoulders.

            Ransom stared in awe for a moment longer before he cleared his throat & shook his head, “Dinner is served. C’mon, take a seat.”

            He put one plate down on the furthest end of the table before closing the distance towards you. He placed the last plate before pulling out the chair & gestured for you to sit. You flicked your eyes toward him before finally moving. You signed your thanks before sitting.

            “You’re welcome.” Ransom winked at you once before he tucked the chair you sat in.

            On the plate before you was a mix of carrots & potatoes, a cut of meat, which you knew to be from the doe you killed earlier, & a twig of rosemary. It smelled delicious & your stomach growled audibly as proof.

            Ransom chuckled as he stood by the vinyl player, re-adjusting the pic. La Vie En Rose by Louis Armstrong began playing.

            At the first set of familiar notes, you felt your chest tighten. Louis Armstrong had been your mother’s favorite.

            Ransom swayed slightly to the music before meeting your eyes, a smile graced across his features, “Brings me back to my childhood.”

            You, of course, said nothing but waited until he moved to sit in his own chair. But before he fully sat, he shot straight up, “Ah, almost forgot.”

            He grinned joyfully before disappearing from the dining room. Your stomach whined as the scent of the meal before you wafted to your nose. Your fingers tangled themselves within the hem of the dress. Clattering noises came from the kitchen off the door Ransom disappeared through. You wondered what the hell he was up to before he finally reappeared again.

            This time, he was carrying two wine glasses & a bottle of wine by the neck, “Can’t forget the most important part of eating venison.”

            He approached you & uncorked the bottle as he did before placing down a glass before you, “Red wine. Cabernet. Really enhances the experience.”

            You felt your eyes widen slightly as you watched the rich, dark liquid pour into your glass. Your parents had allowed you a sip of beer or wine in the past when you were in high school, but you had never really drank seriously before. The world ended before you could indulge in the common pastime.

            Ransom finished filling your glass before pouring himself one as he returned to his end of the table. You watched, unsure of what to do before he finally met your eyes, raising his own glass, “To… us. To the doe. To a new beginning.”

            It was a task to hide your frown this time around, but you succeeded, hiding behind the glass of wine you raised yourself. Mirroring Ransom, you brought the glass to your lips & took a sip. The flavor was jarring, not having tasted something so heavy & mildly sweet at the same time. It was almost like a syrup texture but not. You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

            “Now,” Ransom smiled from across the table, “let’s dig in.’’

            It was a relief to hear those words & you wasted no time to begin digging in. The carrots & potatoes were like a long forgotten dream, not having had fresh & seasoned vegetables in what felt like forever. The venison too was a delight, & you silently thanked the doe for her sacrifice like your mother had taught you, allowing you to enjoy the meat rather than grieve it.

            You were completely lost in your food, practically stuffing your face that you had forgotten Ransom was even present. It wasn’t he made a grunt of amusement that you suddenly paused & shot your eyes upwards. He was watching you, leaned back comfortably in his chair, the wine cupped in his palm as he chewed lightly.

            “Please, don’t stop. It’s not often I get to watch someone enjoy my cooking. Wasn’t much of one before the world went to shit.”

            Despite his encouragement, you swallowed the food in your mouth & sat straight. Though you had no appearances to keep up, you were reminded that you were wearing a dress way out of your economical status & you likely looked like a feral animal in it as you ate rapidly. You willed yourself to slow down & take it easy.

            “Don’t forget about the wine.” He nodded towards your glass. “It’s a game changer.”

            Feeling the spotlight on you, you quickly grabbed the glass & took a drink, but too much was too late & you began coughing, the thick flavor of the wine making you choke slightly.

            “No.” Ransom laughed softly, “Here.”

            You covered your mouth to try & cover your coughs but you watched warily as Ransom stood, holding his plate in one hand & his glass in the other. Then he moved to your end of the table before taking a seat to the right of you.

            “Like this.” He cut himself a small piece of the venison before popping it into his mouth, then he swirled the wine in his glass before taking a small sip.

            “Your turn.”

            Following his directions, you cut yourself a small bite & brought it to your mouth. Then you grabbed your glass & moved it towards your lips but Ransom reached out, his hand grazing your wrist to stop you.

            “Swirl it.” His met yours, “Slowly.”

            The wine sloshed wildly for a second before you found the right momentum. You eyed Ransom for approval. He nodded once, taking a sip of his own as he watched you.

            Then you finally took a sip.

            Flavors burst together in harmony on your tongue. The wine paired with the venison lying in wait made for a new & exciting taste. The wine wasn’t nearly as heavy but added more juice to the meat as you chewed.

            You moaned happily, a small smile appearing on your lips.

            “See.” Ransom commented, “Told ya.”

            The two of you ate in silence the rest of the meal, just enjoying the food, wine, & soft music. You had cleared your plate & Ransom his. Once the two of you finished, Ransom placed your plate on his before shifting them out of the way.

            “So, how was everything?”

            You nodded, confirming your enjoyment.

            “Good, good.”

            Ransom then clinked his glass with yours, “Would you like some more?”

            You hadn’t realized you polished the wine off.

            Before you could shake your head no though, Ransom was already pouring the two of you another round.

            What the hell? You thought. Ransom had made tonight something special, another glass would be okay.

            You signed your thanks once more before taking another sip. Ransom signed back. At that, you both shared a smile.

            It was a few minutes later when the vinyl scratched before humming, signaling the end of the record. Ransom stood up & approached the cart. On the bottom shelf of the cart was a plethora of vinyl’s in their jacket. He pulled out one that was encased in a faded white jacket that had writing in marker on it.

            “My cousin, Meg, was into making her own vinyl records. Kind of like how we used to burn CD’s but with vinyl’s.” Ransom shared with you as he removed the record from its sleeve. You stood from your seat, & the world around you shifted slightly. You caught yourself on the table, stabilizing yourself.

            You knew well-enough that it was the wine. You had never been drunk before, but from how your father would speak about it, you knew this is what he had spoken about. Ransom, fortunately, hadn’t noticed as his back was to you. So, you steeled yourself before straightening your posture. You didn’t want to appear drunk. This second glass of wine would be your last to ensure that.

            “I found this once a couple months back in the room she would stay in. And I was listening to it earlier while you slept & there was this song…” He placed the vinyl onto the player & moved the arm over the disc.

            “I think it’s suiting.” He glanced at you over his shoulder.

            Piano music began to sound along with the smooth, deep voice of a man.

            “Don’t know the name of the song or the artist, but I think you’ll appreciate it. Considering the state of the world.”

            You stood there as you listened intently to the lyrics.

And here it is, our final night alive

And as the earth burns to the ground

Oh, girl, it’s you that I lie with

As the atom bomb locks in

            The music crescendo’d & you felt your skin erupt with goosebumps. Ransom was peering at you & it made you shift awkwardly. To hide your awkwardness, you turned away slightly to take another sip of wine.

            The song stopped suddenly & you turned to face Ransom, he had gently lifted the arm & moved it to the edge of the vinyl. The song started over.

            Ransom approached you then, his hand held out, “Dance with me.”

            What?

            Had you been one for words, you would’ve stumbled over them.

            “C’mon.” Ransom gently grabbed your own hand & tugged you closer to him. Your chest nearly bumped into his but you managed to find your footing before you could.

            You grunted slightly as Ransom wrapped an arm around your waist, a hand on the small of your back. His other fingered it’s way down to your hand, raising it to place it on his shoulder.

            “This okay?” He asked, his eyes peering down into your own.

            Even your many years of signing failing you as your hands failed to move to life.

            He took that as your compliance.

And we’ve drunk a couple a couple of bottles, babe

And set our grief aside

            Ransom began swaying your bodies to the music & you felt your head loll slightly. You forced your head upwards. It was too intimate all of a sudden & you kept your eyes low, staring into his chest. Your feet didn’t move in sync with his as he moved the two of you & at one point you nearly tripped.

            “Here.” Ransom chuckled lightly.

            Shiver danced up your spine as one hand of his fell to your thigh, easily moving your leg forward until your foot was on top of his. Then he did the same to your other leg.

            He returned his hands to your waist but you still felt his touch on your thighs.

            Now, with your shoes on his, you danced easily.

We creep up on extinction

I pull your arms right in

I weep and say, “Goodnight, love”

While my organs pack it in

And here it is, our final night alive

And as the earth burns to the ground

Oh, girl, it’s you that I lie with

As the atom bomb locks in

            Ransom leaned in, his head nearly in the crook of your neck. His lips were at your ear.

            “I want to hear your voice.”

            Your tongue, for once, felt loose. Like speaking would be possible.

            You raised your eyes to meet Ransom’s, who was already staring at you.

            Your lips parted.

            Ransom stopped your dancing.

            Your heart raced.

            “…” You sighed, your head lowering.

            You dropped your hands from Ransom’s shoulders, stepping back & out of his arms.

            I’m sorry. You signed. Your body shivered, suddenly feeling cold & hot at the same time.

            “Don’t.” Ransom stepped forward.

            A soft gasp escaped you as he cupped the side of your face with one hand. His fingers tucked themselves under your chin.

            And then, as the world spun around you & your focus became blurred, Ransom sealed his mouth over yours.

Yes, it’s you I welcome death with

As the world caves in

i have been looking so forward to this chapter. things are beginning to get confusing for reader.

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